To Jeremy. No comments implied

I received a message from your girlfriend and from Noretta that you died in August 2003. You died one day before your birthday or something like that. I was on the way to an exciting camp. I learned about you just before leaving to the site. I loved you, Jeremy. You were my only true friend in US. Despite all the differences. You could hardly write in English. You chew this disgusting tobacco and spit it in the empty can. You had a big belly. You were stealing cigarettes from your mom and gave them or sold them to me. That is almost how I survivedJ. We played pool for hours and James Bond game on your playstation. And ate ice cream with cake. And split some wood together. And we were fishing on the lake of your neighbors. And I actually caught some fish. And then we were trying to catch a fish on a cigarette butt. It did not catch. You took me with your grandparents to Thunder over Louisville Theme park. I met your nice and welcoming family. You rode with me on the four-wheeler in the woods. I thought I’d die. And then at your grandparents I tore the grass in the yard of your Grandmother. That was so funnyJ. I taught your mom how to blow out rings when smoking when she sat on the stairs checking on what we were doing. I made a picture on your ‘Honda’. We almost did not talk at school. Because you were a junior and I was a senior. And did not have that much in common or otherwise. It is really strange. You gave me Marilyn Manson when I came to visit Indiana in 2002. And the day I arrived we drank half of the bottle of whiskey. And I could not stand on my feet I was falling in the bathroom. You sent me some smokes in the letter in 1998. It was hilarious! You have a terrible handwriting! I could hardly understand what you have written. I heard about your plans on working at a steel factory or joining the marines. And your fears on possible joining the Afghanistan war.

That was the moment when you realize that it doesn’t happen to someone else. It happens to you. You had a stupid death Jeremy. And I was in such a sorrow even though I didn’t talk to you forever. This is when you ask why. And you don’t have no fucking answer. I loved you Jeremy.

I still keep your one dollar bill with your writing on it.

Rest in peace, Jeremy.