so, about one week ago was the last time i saw my roommate "4" alive. obviously i'm not saying his name for the very same reasons that you could think were obvious. that would make 12-16-09. i never saw him again until friday 12-18-09. the only reason i saw him that day was because his mother called me up. she informed me that she had been trying to contact "4" for a few days now and his phone had gone straight to voice mail. she was wondering if i had seen him at all the last couple of days and if i knew where he was. i thought it was weird that i had been hearing his alarm go off til it shut itself off the last couple of days, but i didn't mention that to his mother. i told her what i thought, which was that he had taken off to be with family for the holidays. she said no, he hadn't. i then told her that i would go check his room. when i opened his bedroom door, which is adjacent(sp?) to mine, i saw the "4" had been in bed this whole time, covered in his blankets ready for bed. when i got one step in, that is when i really saw his face. it was one of the most disturbing shades of blueish-purple that i had ever seen. then my mind focused on the coagulated blood that was coming out of his nose. semi-dried blood with what appeared to be mucus formed an almost heart shape on his sheets before it dripped on the floor. only a few drops had made it that far, taking up no more than two peas worth of space. from there my focus shifted ever so slightly downward til i saw his outstreched hand, still holding a cigarette that had stopped burning at the halfway point. thank god for the new additives to keep it from burning all the way down and catching anything thing else on fire? "4"'s mother asked me what was going on. i returned with, can you come here? she said no, i'm on the east side of the u.s.(again with the obvious editing for the same reasons) she asked again what was going on. i said, he passed. she asked are you sure. to which came, yes. did you call 911? no. i will. you should. i call you back when i get off the phone. a call to 911. called the mother back. she's hystarical (sp)for the obvious reasons. the police come. no ambulance. questions. answers. some tears. more questions. cigarettes smoked. more answers. the morgue shows up in a mini-van. leave the house so that the police can take pictures. after about an hour and a half, i go back inside to retrieve my phone. the coronor asks me if i'm the one that called. yes. when was the last time i saw him. wednesday evening. the coronor then talking to himself says, that sounds about right. he probably passed wednesday evening, over the night. more cigarettes. stay with a loved one on friday night after calling work and telling them why i wasn't coming in. saturday, to the movies, still 'freaking' out like the night before, about the ordeal. mind drifts away from the thoughts. life shows some resemblance of good. by monday, life is almost back to normal. some dealings with the college i attend to get a few more days to finish the homework that i was planning on doing that weekend. wednesday now. a whole week since he died. almost a week since i found him.

life is what it is. i can not tell you that this is fake. i wish i could, because then i wouldn't have gone through this and he would still be alive and his mother would be happy. but it's true. never believe me, if you will, but i will always see his dead face when i think of it. i can still think of him when he was alive and 'see' him then, as well. life is what it is.