My best friend during my middle school days committed suicide.
When I received the news, I was so surprised that I couldn’t react in any way. My hands shook so much that I could barely hold on to anything.
But in my mind, I had some kind of secret feeling of foreboding and fear. It was as if I “knew” why she had chosen to go down this path.
I was one of the murderers who killed my former best friend.