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When A Friend Dies At College

I was a very lucky guy on the first day I arrived at my new college. I met a roommate that was amazing. He was a great guy in so many ways, and within minutes of him entering the room we were laughing and behaving like we had been friends all our lives. It really was friendship at first sight; we just clicked that quick and that deep.

He and I actually did not share that much in common. He came from a poorer family than me. He had a large family, and I was a single kid. He had few belongings that he brought in with him, whereas I seemed to arrive with two huge car loads of stuff. In fact if it was not for me our room would not have a pc, radio, TV, DVD player or any of the white goods that always filled my room at home. As I said he arrived with almost nothing but a small suitcase with clothes.

He was the same age as me twenty. He was leaner than me; I am heading for the plump side. He was into running and basketball. I was into watching people run and play basketball. He was not much of a reader and would flip through my books and put them down after a few seconds with disappointment that there were no drawings or photos within. But he did have some excellent Marvel comics that I became hooked on over the few months we shared rooms.

We never had an argument. We never moaned about what belonged to whom. If and when he used my stuff he was always careful to ensure it was put back after and would always tell me. In short I had a roommate as a friend and buddy who was also trustworthy. He was a delight to be with. I would enjoy the occasional evenings where we would just chill out in our room and watch movies or play the Nintendo. He got a huge thrill out of the computer games, as he really had never played them before as his family could not afford the console and games.

We would sit up till the early hours talking about our lives and worries and lack of girlfriends. We would even hug each other if the conversations got too sad. We were perhaps the odd couple of the college. No one ever assumed we were gay, everyone just knew we were going to be long-term soul mates. I think some of the gay guys were jealous of our relationship anyway.

One Friday morning after a night of drinking we got up and realized we had no food in the room. The night of drinking had made us exceptionally hungry, so the only thing to do was to pop on down to the local burger joint and have a disgusting big breakfast. The burger bar was only about ten minutes away, and it was a nice morning.

As we walked out the door, I realized I had not yet finished my essay editing which was due in in a few hours. I asked him to go ahead and I would fetch it with me and finish it off as we ate. He smiled and ran off and seemed to be in an extra cheerful mood. I printed off the essay and took the course notes and put them into a loose leaf file and headed for the burger bar.

As I arrived I could not yet see him. Annoyingly he had the money, so I left him a voice mail and told him to stop chatting and hurry up and get here and buy my breakfast. After thirty minutes he still had not arrived and I was too hungry to wait. I managed to find enough money for a small burger and I was curing him for not being here. I collected my finished essay and headed back to college and my room. I was a little pissed so I decided to give him a mild telling off for letting me down. But he was not even in the room. An hour later and still no sign of him, so I walked to my class.

Five hours later an emergency assembly was called, and still no sign of him. The assembly announced that a pupil had died this morning in a hit and run. That pupil was my friend. That pupil was my soul mate and I never knew anything about it until then.

I never did hand in my essay. As far as I was concerned my stopping to collect the stuff for my essay editing had allowed my friend to be killed. I was not there to stop it happening. I have lost a good friend who really I have only just met.


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