At the beginning of every school year--I think we all can relate when I say that--I spend the last week of summer hoping for kind teachers and for a schedule that doesn’t include a lot of walking. However, most of all, every year I pray that I have friends in all my classes.

In 2013, after my first day of school started, I quickly realized that all of my wishes were not answered, as I had only two of my friends in one of my classes. However, when I attended the class, one of my friends was missing. In the afternoon, my classmate approached me and explained to me that my missing friend, Caroline, was in a car accident the day before, and that my friend’s mom had passed away in the accident. Instantly, in shock, I froze. But my classmate continued. She said that Caroline was still in the hospital and that she suffered multiple organ failures.

At the age of 11, I don’t think I completely understood the severity of what that meant. Oblivious to the situation, I assumed that one of my closest friends would be back in at least two months, and everything would be fine. The next day my friend, who had just moved to St. Simons, Georgia, texted me and asked if I knew anything about Caroline’s condition. I replied to my friend saying that I had no information, but I was sure that she was going to be fine. That same day was my dad’s birthday, and my cousins had come for a visit. We were about to cut a cake, when my friend called from St. Simons. I picked up the phone, and I realized that she was crying. She told me that one of my closest friends had just passed away.

I cut the phone and everything after that is a blur. All I remember is that I didn’t cry, and I wasn’t sad or gloomy either. I was just so angry at myself for all the choices I made prior to the accident. I felt guilty for all the times Caroline asked me to come over and I didn’t. I felt guilt for the time I saw her at the store, and I didn’t say “Hi.” I felt guilt when I had assumed that she would be back at school, and I didn’t visit her at the hospital. Most of all, I felt guilt for the time I had no information on her condition when my friend asked. I was so furious at myself for not taking Caroline’s accident seriously.

The next week my school gathered all of her classmates and the counselor talked to us about grief and how we should remember Caroline. Everyone shared memories of her and talked about all the times she would beat the boys at “Keep-away.” That weekend I attended her funeral and her burial ceremony. There I saw my teacher, my counselor and some of my friends paying their respects to Caroline and her mom. When I came back home, the anger I had was still there. I felt so guilty for not being a good friend. What kind of friend am I? Why didn’t I visit her? Why did I tell my friend she was going to be ok?

I told my friends that I was feeling guilty for all the times I wasn’t a good friend to Caroline. They assured me that Caroline would be so upset with me if I stayed angry at myself. My friends explained to me that my friendship with Caroline should be remembered through happiness and not with anger. I realized that they were right. Being angry at myself and feeling guilty would not be remembering Caroline in the right way.

Today, I miss Caroline with all my heart and there isn’t a day that goes by without me wishing she was here. This year, as I start my first year in high school, I want nothing more than some friends in my classes. But if there is anything I have learned from Caroline's passing, it is that, as a friend, I have the responsibility to listen to my friends when they need it the most. I also learned that my true friends are those who encourage me to be happy and not waste time with being angry. But most of all, I realized that friendship is about being there for each other. I am so grateful for all my friends who are always there for me when I need them to support me. And as for Caroline, I have no doubt she is there for me every day. I believe that Caroline is watching over me with her kind heart, for that is what true friendship is.