As I stood there looking at my best friend’s lifeless body I couldn’t help but think I could’ve done more. Before I could break down in tears, I heard someone come up behind me; it was her mother.


“Garrett, it wasn’t your fault. You did the best you could. She felt it was her only way out. You did the right thing by trying to help her. Thank you.”



I couldn’t move, I couldn’t respond, I just stood there, lifeless and numb. It was almost as if it all went away for a moment; and we were back at school joking around about our chemistry teacher’s dorky attitude towards everything in life. I guess you could say it all was perfectly fine for that split second. Then it all sunk in. What if I tried just a little harder? What if I stood up for her more? What if it was me instead of her being bullied? What if the kids at school looked at me as the “freak” or “loser”? What if the kids at school judged me based off my appearance and the self-inflicted cuts on my wrists instead of her? My mind was filled with “what ifs”.


I stayed there for an hour, maybe two, before my mother came up behind me and gently tapped my shoulder and said it was time to go. When I got home I went straight to my room. I didn’t say a word to anyone, I didn’t eat, I didn’t make any stops, I just walked up stairs, put in my head phones and ignored the whole world as I broke down in tears for hours. I continued this process for weeks. I didn’t care about school or grades or homework. To me it became a thing of the past. You know that crying where you can’t even feel it anymore so you kind of just sit there for a while, feeling numb and unable to move? Eventually I found myself to be the one in a state of depression as my best friend rests in paradise.



My mother knocked on my door before letting herself in one night. Held against her side I noticed an old photo album.


“Geez,” I said, “The history museum called. They said they need that back.”



She chuckled, “Good to know you still have a sense of humor. It’s your Grandmother’s old photo album, even with a few diary entries she wrote. It dates way back to the 1940s when she was still in Germany. I thought you could learn a little something from it.”

“Thanks but no thanks mom; I’m not really in the mood for that.”

“Well that stinks because you know what? I think it could help you. You see, your grandmother lost her best friend and ended up going through depression when she was just about your age too,” she added, “At least look through it once with me?”

“Ugh, fine.” I groaned.

That night I spent about an hour looking at old pictures of my Grandmother and their old house, but that’s not what got to me. What got to me was her diary entries. Her best friend lived in the next town over. My Grandmother met her at one of their youth camp meetings. You see my Grandmother lost her best friend when she was just about my age too. At the time there were lots of bombings in Nazi Germany; and her town just happened to be the one hit. Everyday after school my Grandmother would go to the street her best friend used to live on and just stand there, with the same numb feeling I always have when I think of my best friend that’s buried 6 feet under now.

“Why are you showing me this album? It’s just making it worse for me” I stated.

“Skip to the last page, sweetheart, trust me” my mother added as she put her hand on my back.


As I opened the last page I saw a picture of my Grandmother with a genuine smile on her face, but that’s not the only thing that stuck out to me. The picture was dated 4/16/1942, a year after the death of her best friend. All that was written on the back was, “das leben geht weiter. Immer für das licht schauen am ende des tunnel” which means “life goes on. always look for the light at the end of the tunnel” in German.


All I can say is it’s amazing how much history can still impact us to this day. I still struggle with my depression from time to time, but whenever I feel down I just look at that picture of my Grandmother that now hangs on my wall next to a picture of my best friend; and it feels as if I have reached that light.