It was the night after I got the phone-call saying that a taxi on the Camlough Road knocked him down and that he was in a really bad way. I laughed when I got that phone-call, I didn’t believe my best friend Emma when she said it to me. I believed it couldn’t be true.
I was down in the Meadow with all my mates when I got hit in the face with reality. My friends didn’t seem like their usual selves. They all stood around looking very glum and dreary. We were all in shock. Marcus had only twenty-four hours to live and if he didn’t come around they were going to pull the plug. Short life when its over at the age of eighteen isn’t it?
None of us felt the same that day but we felt worse a couple of days later. The machine had been turned off and my friend was gone forever. The only thing that was going through my head was the good times we had together. Camping out in the summer, taking long walks out to the twenty-four hour station, and just three weeks before he died we ended our relationship. Marcus was a laugh he was always there to crack a joke or take the Mickey out of someone. We shared many a happy time together but the best times were when he held me tight in his arms and whispered softly that he loved me. Our time together is over now but he’ll always be in my dreams.
The day of the funeral hurt us real bad, all of us sitting in the church with tissues at hand and tears rolling down the cheeks of our sad faces as his song “you’ll never walk alone” echoed round the church like a knife stabbing me straight in the heart. Marcus always loved that song and always laughed at me because it was a Liverpool song and I supported Man United. The boys that hang about with me are real tight and not the sort of fellas that you would see crying but that day there was not a dry eye amongst them.
At the burial service I stood and watched the coffin getting laid into the ground and I cried my heart out. This was the second friend I had buried, I kept thinking, “Who would be next?” My ex-boyfriend was six foot under; all I wanted to do was go with him.
I would never see him again, the memories we shared were magical and the good times we had were the best.
I keep blaming myself even now. If only he had come to my house that night, if only we hadn’t ended our relationship. He would be still here with all my friends and me today, celebrating his twentieth birthday on the fourteenth of October. If only the lights were working on the camlough road, and if only he had of used the traffic lights. I say to myself there are plenty of ways that could of stopped the death of my dear friend, but fate took over. Now there is another angel shining down on me from heaven like the rest of my friends and family, I miss him dearly but obviously if it was meant to be it would happen. It happened; therefore it was meant to be.