So there was this kid who I seldom talked to, he was like 7-6 years younger than me, making him 18 or 19 years old. He was kind of a nuissance, always fooling around and never being serious, one day he even made me believe he was my cousin (I have a BIG family, and it's kinda hard to tell who's part of my family sometimes). Of course, the day I found out he wasn't related to me, I decided not to be so warm with him. I mean, we were still friendly, but I was getting tired of his shit so to speak. I met this kid when he was like 15 years old at the time, he was playing the messiah in a colombian play a few years back, though he still looked like he was 11. Back on track, I was being grumpy with him. He joked about something I don't remember and I replied with a cold sense of humour. I told him "you know what would be great? that you fell down some stairs and died choking in your own blood". He was like "ouch, man!" laughing like a teenager. I never fit in with my peers when I was a teenager, so naturally I don't really fit in with teenagers nowadays. So everytime he talked to me he was always goofing around, and I would reply with stuff that involved him getting hurt in manners that would sicken Chuck Palahniuk. I really didn't like him, but I didn't hate him either, he was just this kid who acted in some plays, just like I do. He was alright in my book. But maybe I was a bit envious, this kid got it all you see? lots of friends, popular with girls, he even had a band... a band! I always wanted to be in a band when I was 18. Though he may have fooled you, maybe he was an airhead, a bufoon. But no, he actually had some good interest too. He was thrilled to see The Hobbit, he asked me if I have ever read that book, when I said yes, he started talking to me about runes. But it wasn't for long, I had rehearsal and so did he so we didn't really got into talking about other subjects. Then it's january, 2013. I got a message from a friend telling me that he saw my director earlier that week about something that happened to this kid. In my mind I was thinking a bunch of stuff. "He graduated from high school?" "Did he somehow earned lots of cash?" "Did she got a girl pregnant?" I dismissed all that anyway, I really didn't cared what happened to him. Then later that same day I recieve a call from my director, telling that we should see each other on saturday, I was thinking "yeah yeah, we got rehearsal..." Then he asked me "you know what happened to (kid)?" and I was like "nope" I really didn't cared what happened to that fucking kid. "He took his life last week". "Ok" was all that I said. "Are you okay?" "Yup" "Well, take care" "You too" What? what... What the fuck did that kid do? How... What? Some minutes of silence and then I was saying "stupid stupid child, goddamn". My mood started to go down, I was angry first, but then I started thinking about myself... heck, I'm on this page, that means I've thinked about suicide sometime during my life. And I couldn't even tell that this kid was suffering too? he even pulled the same trick I do: hide the pain behind a smile. He didn't even hit 20 years of age, he killed himself just at the beggining of his life. He had it all... or maybe he didn't. I started blaming myself (well actually, I still do), for not noticing that, for not talking to him. I started remembering the things I said. I was fooling around too but maybe... maybe he thought I was being real. That he was a "good for nothing" somebody who was better "six feet under instead of breathing my air". Around 12:00 am I shed the biggest amount of tears I have shed for someone outside my family. I had two uncles die last year, I shed some tears when I saw one going down to his tomb. I didn't shed a single tear for my godmother, even though I loved her. Maybe it's because they lived full lives, and they weren't suffering any longer. But this kid was different, he didn't had a full life, and he never will. I also learned something from him... life is more valuable than I ever thought it was. People die everday in my country, just starting january 400 corpses arrived at central Caracas mourge, all of them killed. So I got used to death, after 10 years of violence and crime, one gets used to stuff like that. But this was so different, how could he have possibly killed himself? it was unreal. But now he's gone, and I have to move on, his family too shall have to do it, and his friends, and everybody who loved him, and I truly pity them. That's all.