I’ve known him for a long time. We met in high school. We became friends in sophomore year. He was a very humble, and smart student. He lived alone in New York and never really told about his family and parents even when we got closer. He began to change and started not showing up to school and leaving behind. When approached why, he would always say that most of the nights he’s busy with his friends and had hangovers and missed school. One day, he wanted me to come over to meet his friends, I agreed and went. They were as I expected, drinkers, and smokers who also drove while drunk.
Later, he also bought a car and started to race. I always told him to stop whatever he’s doing because one day it will cause him trouble, it could cause his or other people’s death. He used to race while drunk. This just continued, and he was distancing away from me. When I called or went to his house to check up on him, he would not answer or open the door. This awakened a lot of worries and fears about him till one day I went to his home again and this time the door was open. I went in and he was sleeping. He woke up and begged me to leave, he promised he was feeling alright, he was just tired and cannot talk right now. So I left. Two days after late at night, I got a call from the emergency medical services since he had me saved as an emergency contact number and heard that my friend died from a gunshot injury. I obtained the address and rushed there. As I was driving, I felt like I was never getting there, cold sweat was dripping from my forehead, and felt the boiling of my blood from rage, sorrow, and anger. It happened outside of the bar that he and his friends always gathered at and his friends were there also. There were EMS members and police officers for investigation and were taking reports about the killer who fled the scene about 45 minutes ago.