Forever 17

For·ev·er, Adverb, without ever ending; eternally. Example Sentence: Izzy will be gone forever. So before I tell you about what happened on February 4th 2018, I’ll tell you about who I am. My name is Mason Charles Coleman, or as all the other kids say, the boy who’s best friend died. I think it’s rather unoriginal. My best friend did actually die by the way, they’re not making that up. It seems like it was just yesterday that she was right here, just as alive as everyone else. Now she’s lying in the ground with her eyes closed, the cold skin of her eyelids forever stuck in place. They’re never going to open again, that thought is awfully overwhelming. Purple and white lilies surround her casket from the weeping relatives who “Didn’t want to see her go”. So, let me tell you what happened, what happened to my dear, deceased friend Izzy. 

    Izzy, Isabelle Evans, is my best friend. We’ve been in Senior year for a couple months now, we’ve just come back from winter break. You came over for a little while on Christmas because your Grandma had to go out. Your parents died the year earlier on their way to pick up your sister from the airport. You were still at school when it happened you got called down to the office over the loudspeaker. You chuckled at the normal “Ooo, she’s in trouble” from the infamous Todd Joseph. I knew him and I knew he liked you. He was going to ask you out on Friday, I thought he would chicken out so, I vowed to tell you when you turned 18, but you’re still 17, your birthday is February 18th (I still celebrate it to this day). You died on Thursday.

As we were walking through the barren halls of The President Lincoln School for Youths together you saw a flyer on the wall that seemed to peak your interest. It stated that the school would be putting on a production of Grease, and that auditions were on January 4th. I thought it was just a silly school musical, but to you it was like your big debut on broadway. You acted for days like it was the holy grail, but you wouldn’t sign up if I didn’t. 
“Hey you have any plans?” You said with a sing song voice that I knew was not going to play in my favor. 
“No.” I stated blankly, hoping you would get the point. 
“Then there’s no reason you can’t audition!” You beamed because you knew you had stumped me.
 At the time (and if you were still here today) I could never argue with your logic. So, as you and I walked down to Mrs. Amber Wale’s classroom to sign up, I wondered why it meant so much to you. (You had no idea that your death was near on the horizon.) I still don’t have that answer, and I guess I never will. 

It turns out you had to show your “talents” in front of Mrs. Wales to get a part. I was surprised even a person got one considering how much she seemed to hate basically everyone, I don’t know why she chose to be a teacher. She seemed to like you though, and you looked forward to her class everyday. Her husband died three years ago and her daughter passed away in September of this year, she was only four years older than you when she died. She had just graduated college to be a pilot, but things went wrong and now the plane is swimming in the Atlantic, with all of the passengers, flight assistants and the pilot still in it. Mrs. Wales came to your funeral. 

Make the cut used to be one of your favorite sayings, you said it with the passion of nominated actress and the attitude of a Reality TV show contestant. This, as you used to tell me, was your favorite part of auditioning. I, on the other hand, decided to duck out. Even though I didn’t tell you I did, I knew you understood. You looked at me with pleading eyes, but deep down I knew you could tell I wouldn’t budge. I knew that you wouldn’t push me to do it, you were never that type of person. You might have begged once or twice, but you never forced. I watched you walk on the huge wooden stage. I remember just last year when we were too late to audition, but we could join stage crew. I remember waxing down the boards after rehearsal had gone through. I never wanted to forget those memories. The click clop of your 3 inch boots, that you loved oh so much, snapped me out of my trance. You were buried in those boots.