Forgotten || Matthew Espinosa Story

Forgotton

I was Matt's best friend. 'Was' is the keyword here.

He moved to Vancouver when he was five from Virginia. I guess his family wanted a fresh start. Matt lived four houses down from me.

I was playing in my front yard and he came over and asked to play. Of course I said yes and we started to become good friends.

Matt was the best friend. Caring, sweet, he stood up for me. Everything I could have asked for.

Until one day, I was thirteen and he was fourteen.

I had talked to Matt earlier, he was going to come over and we were going to just watch movies like we always did.

I waited, waited for an hour, and that turned into multiple hours of me sitting on my bed and looking out my window, waiting for Matt to run towards my house.

I called his house the next day, but it wouldn't go through. I went to his house and no cars were in the driveway. An old chair that use to be inside was now outside with a for sale sign taped to it.

Weird.

I knocked on the door, no answer. Rang the door bell, nothing. I sat at the door step for ten minutes until I ran around the back and looked into the house through the window.

Nothing, no one, was inside the house. A couple papers were laying on the ground, but that was all.

Matt and his family moved?

Why wouldn't Matt tell me.

When I got home, my mom asked where I was and I said I was looking for Matt and she realized that I didn't know.

She told me they moved.

And I was mad, confused, and sad all at the same time.

Months went by and no contact from Matt has been made what so ever.

He started twitter and I followed him. He followed me back but never direct messaged me or tweeted me.

I tweeted him once and he never responded.

My mom said that she gave his mom my number so we could text, but I guess he never got it.

It's been two years.

No contact, constant name calling, constant bullying.

I am being hated for being one of Matts friends.

I was convinced by everyone that Matt hated me, that's why he never texted me.

I hide everything from everyone. I cut, constantly. It's hard to stop when you're not good enough.

No one knows, I just cover it up.

I guess you can say I'm depressed, sad, confused or whatever you think.

Ever since my best friend left, I've been living a miserable life.