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Non-fiction essay I wrote for English; kind of depressing I suppose; enjoy

05:31 Apr 24 2005
Times Read: 635


Regret





Death… Is it something to fear? How about something to hate? In my opinion, Death is something to get ready for, whether it is your own, your family member, or your best friend. Be careful of the last thing you say to people before you walk out of the house, walk out of school, or hang up the phone. You never know; you might just regret the last thing you said.

I was talking to my friend, MaryBeth, on the phone. I hadn’t seen her in 5 years. She had been ranting on about how her father grounded her and how it was unfair. I never listened to her when she was talking about how her father was unfair, because I never believed he was.

"I mean please! All I did was have my boyfriend spend the night! He’s probably done that millions of times! Well, except he probably had his girlfriend, not a boyfriend," she said annoyed.

"MaryBeth… Number 1: Your father is a minister and probably just doesn’t want his daughter getting pregnant. Number 2: You shouldn’t have your boyfriend spending the night at your house anyway! Especially if your just using him!" I had said while laughing.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, next thing you know your going to tell me to stop drinking and smoking pot!" she laughed at her last comment, knowing that I was going to tell her just that.

"Well, MaryBeth, you know you should. It’s really bad for you."

"Bernadette, please. Really, not again. I’m going to smoke and drink whenever I please, and there is nothing you can do about it. What are you going to do? March all the way over to New York and make me stop? Why do we have to argue about something that you can’t control period!" she yelled at me.

"Maybe," I said calmly, "because I care about you and don’t want you to get hurt. Even if I can’t get to New York and make you stop, I can only hope that you will listen to me one day."

"I don’t need to listen to you! You aren’t my mother! Why don’t you take my side for once instead of taking my father’s side!" and with that she hung up on me.

I was angry with her for hanging up on me and decided not to talk to her, even if she did call. I would just hang up on her if she did.

No one knows the last time they are going to talk to someone. No one knows when something traumatic might happen. No one knows when his or her friend is going to be killed. I know I didn’t.

Two days after MaryBeth hung up on me, her parents called. They were crying and coughing. I could tell that something terrible had happened. They told me that MaryBeth was dead. She sneaked out of her house the night she hung up on me. She walked down Maine Street and as she crossed the street a drunk driver drove out of his parking lot and hit her, full speed, head-on. MaryBeth had been in the hospital all night. She couldn’t talk; couldn’t move; could barely breathe. MaryBeth died a day later.

While she was dying in the hospital, I was thinking about how mad I was at her for hanging up on me. I was thinking that I hated her, when really, I shouldn’t even have been mad at all.



Again, I say, Death is something to get ready for. Be careful of what the last thing you say is to someone. Try and always leave on a good note, because you never know, you may just regret it later.


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