Can't Be True

February 1, 2012
By brandon turnberg BRONZE, Everson, Washington
brandon turnberg BRONZE, Everson, Washington
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

It was in the third grade when my life was changed. I was always the type of kid who never did anything to get into trouble, I was what you called a “good kid”. That changed when RJ walked into Mrs. Scott’s class in the 3rd grade. I knew though when he walked in the door he was one to be a troublemaker but I still wanted to talk to him because everyone wants to get to know the new kid. It also just so happened that RJ lived right down the road from me so we could hangout outside of school whenever we wanted. RJ basically lived at my house when we were younger and my mom didn’t mind one bit she loved RJ as if he was her own. I didn’t go to RJ’s house very often because my brother was always there hanging out with RJ’s older sister and I didn’t like my brother when I was younger. At first you would think that RJ was a bad influence on me because before he came I never got into trouble but when he was there I started to get in lots of trouble because the things we did, like I’d tell my mom we would do one thing and then we would do another and it would be something we weren’t suppose to do. But overall he was a great influence because if I had never met RJ then I would not be the same kid I am today, wouldn’t have the same friends or the same attitude.

At the end of summer football was starting and I knew I was going to play but my mom wanted RJ to give it a try as well so she signed us both up for it. RJ never played a sport before but he seemed to want to do it and he wouldn’t stop talking about it. Football was a great chance to meet friends when you were younger because we all went to other elementary schools and me and RJ met a lot of people who became are friends quickly. And if you have ever met RJ and talked to him and even mention football he would have a story lined up like a snap of the finger. He always loved to tell the story about how in little league he would play defensive end and he would always make the quarter back cry because of him sacking him every single play. And that quarter back happened to be Bret and he never really cared when RJ would tell the story so it was ok.

The last time I saw RJ was at church and he was there with his foster parents. I didn’t even know he had foster parents or that before that he was living on the streets by himself in Everett. I really felt for RJ and all he went through at just 15 and 16 years old it wasn’t right. Though RJ’s mom was not very healthy, had no money, she needed a place to live as well she didn’t know what to do with RJ since before he was living with Jesse, another friend of his who he happened to meet in little league football. But when he left our school I had no idea where he was and really wanted to find out. But it wasn’t tell the first Sunday I started going to church with Pete and Levi and it was weird because after the service we had seen RJ standing outside, it was a great feeling to get to see him again. After that Sunday of first seeing him we sat next to him though it was only 3 weekends of seeing him but after the 3rd week we invited him to go swimming at homestead with us and he said yes but that he would meet us there so we went ahead and left but RJ never showed up. We were not worried because we figured he wouldn’t show up anyways.

That following Thursday on April, 7th RJ passed away in his foster parents home. His foster parents found him there but nobody knew tell later, I didn’t even find out tell 6:00 in the morning when Jesse texted me. I was laying in my bed not knowing what to think all I know is that it couldn’t be true I knew him to well he couldn’t be dead. I couldn’t even move or talk, my brother could tell something was wrong but I didn’t say a word I went to my mother’s room and lied on her bed and just thought to my head how this could be possible and trying to remember all the great crazy memories we had together that made me laugh for a second and then bust out to tears the next. I felt as if I could have done something like gave him a call right before or go over there just to hang out with him because we were friends. But it was too late there was nothing I could do he was already gone and I know I will never forget him and the times we had together.

RJ was one of the most annoying person but there was nothing you could do to shut him up. He was never rude when he was annoying he just liked somebody to talk to. Me and RJ could literally sit in his room all day for 24 hours or even more and just talk about everything that was on our minds weather it was girls or his addictions and him and juvy. Whenever we were going to do something he wanted to fight with my boxing gloves and I didn’t want to fight him because he was crazy like just went all out swinging crazy. The only person that was fair to fight him was Michael because he was the same way.

The day of the funeral I got out of school really early because I didn’t feel like being there and I was going to help set up for the funeral. I knew the funeral was going to be hard because I was RJ’s only friend that really talked to his mom and she was like a mother to me when I was a young kid. T the funeral I was fine no tears until I went up to RJ’s mom before it started and gave her a hug with her crying in my arms I couldn’t help but to burst out in tears I tried to hold it back as well as I could but it was too hard. I sat with my mom and brother at the funeral because I didn’t want to be with my friends who I knew would be loud but Ty sat next to me as well for the same reason I’m pretty sure. The funeral seemed like forever but I knew it would and it was ok because I liked it when everyone was talking about the experiences they have had with him and nothing but good things about him. After the funeral I wasn’t in the mood to talk to all my friends either so I went and sat next to RJ’ mom and talked to her and said goodbye and I was gone.

The author's comments:
My best friend from my child hood who passed away at a young age.

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