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I Destroyed My Best Friend's Life To Save Him-And I Regret Nothing

I Destroyed My Best Friend's Life To Save Him-And I Regret Nothing

What lengths would you go to in order to save a friend? Unfortunately, I was forced to discover how far I'd go, clear until I ruined my best friend's life.

And if I were to do it over, I would have done it sooner.

"Quin" and I met during his junior year of high school, when he moved here from the other side of the country with his military father. He is one of those people who you can instantly like upon meeting, tall, goood-looking, African-American, talented in theatre with a marvelous baritone singing voice and a charisma that drew people in like moths to a colorful flame, an overall charming and funny guy. He found his niche in the new school in choir and the musicals almost instantly.

That's how I met him. We clicked instantly during choir and worked together a lot on various music projects, growing close. On lousy days for me, he'd make me laugh so hard my sides hurt with his Dwayne Johnson impressions, silly facial expressions, or even just a well-placed sarcastic remark.

Maas senior year progressed, he began to confide with me what was behind his mask of carefree and confident character, revealing deep hurt and emotional pain. Quin had been raped shortly before he moved to our area, felt like he wasn't good enough or that people liked him, or that his stern military dad didn't approve of him singing and dancing and acting for his career, and that the predominantly religious community we lived in was judging him for being agnostic. Though I didn't agree with him on everything, I was always willing to listen, just like him.

Quin announced his decision to attend a university across the country from our city, which, naturally, was devastating news for all of us choir and theatre kids, and when the August after graduation rolled around, he was gone, majoring in Musical Theatre with plans to go on Broadway. And, unlike many other friends with similar dreams, I knew he could actually make it there. I still do have that faith in him, and I always will.

Suddenly, in January, it all came crashing down, starting with a brief, panicked text from Quin's younger brother: "Quin's in the hospital for failed suicide attempt. His roommates found him. Pray for him to stabilize, will keep you updated."

I sat there in my biology class, staring at my phone in numb shock. Quin. My rock, the coolest , most talented guy I had ever known, tried to end his own life. My mind seized onto any explanation it could for this, but came up with nothing.

How could he do this to himself?!? He had been home for winter break only a few short weeks before, and he seemed fine, singing and laughing with me like usual, telling me all about his upcoming audition for Hamilton tour. Quin had so much to live for! I didn't understand.

After getting the okay from his brother, my shaking fingers texted Quin: "Quin, are you alright? What's going on? Why?"

The only response I received: "I couldn't take it anymore. I just want to forget."

A month or so later, I worked up the courage to try and reach out to him again. To my best knowledge, he had been released from the hospital and resumed studies, so maybe he'd want to talk.

"Hey," I tried through text. A minute later, I got a response back, nearly unreadable and jumbled. A pit grew in my stomach as I tried to make sense of what he was saying. Quin was OCD, there was no way he could misspell anything, or have a grammar mistake, even in a text. The. It hit me. "Quin, are you drunk?" I texted anxiously.

"A littttle," he sent.

My hearted pounded. Quin was only able to attend that university through a full-ride scholarship, which could be revoked if he got caught underage drinking or other trouble. Not to mention his safety could be at stake. "Why, Quin??? What if you get caught?"

"I dooont carre."

"Why?"

"I jus wanna forget."

"Forget what, Quin?"

"Everything "

I Destroyed My Best Friend's Life To Save Him-And I Regret Nothing

Shakily, I called him, doing my best to keep my voice even as I tried to figure out his location. I could hardly understand his slurred speech, but eventually I got the address and called an Uber for him to get home, messaging his roommates to let me know when he made it back to his dorm. Then I collapsed on my bed, and cried.

That was the last I heard from him for another month, until the climax of the situation. Remember how I asked how far you wouldn't be go to help a friend? This was it.

I tried to Skype him one night, and was met with a tear-stained face, eyes filled with rage. I had hardly said hi before he cut me off. "Don't talk to me. I don't want anyone to contact me, just leave me alone."

"Quin, a-" he ended the call, leaving my horrified eyes staring back at me on the now-dark screen.

I Destroyed My Best Friend's Life To Save Him-And I Regret Nothing

An intense feeling of panic swept up my body. My mind seized upon the only logical reason for his behavior:he was going to try again. Suicide, that is. That idea was solidified for me.

What was I supposed to do?!?!?!?

I anxiously paced back and forth in my bedroom, fretting, wringing my hands. I felt so utterly useless. What could I do to fix this?

Suddenly an idea popped into my head. A way I could make sure Quin was safe shot of flying across the country. But...

No. I had to.

I looked up the number and dialed. "Hello, I'd like to request a welfare check at the University. I'm scared of a suicide threat."

I Destroyed My Best Friend's Life To Save Him-And I Regret Nothing

Less than a month later...

"Ready to get your ass beat?" Quin asked, finishing lacing up His rollerblades.

I moaned, my own skates laced. "No. This is just cruel."

"That's good. I like my victims to suffer before I crush them," he grinned, holding out a hand. I took it, and we glided out into the skate rink of the local fun center. Or rather, he glided. I stumbled like a drunk sailor until he righted me. He was a rollerblading master, since performing in Xanadu all on skates.

The skating had been my idea, since I heard he was back home. It was hard to keep my face impassive as he told me on the way to the rink what I already knew: how the campus police had come knocking to check on him, how they had to break down Quin's bedroom door to find him passed out in a drunken stupor on the floor. An empty noose was strung from the lighting on the ceiling. He was awoken and promptly arrested for underage drinking, and charged with that, along with resisting arrest. Fortunately he was not given jail time, merely put on probation.

However, he was expelled from the school, scholarship revoked. The bitterness was clearly there, etched in his eyes.

I looked down at his hand, holding mine, eyes following the dark lines of scars all down his forearms and wrists. As soon as I had seen them, it was easy to figure out how he had tried to take his life back in January. The scars were deepest over his wrists, marring the light brown skin of his arms. I bumped my hip into his and nearly fell. "I'm glad your home," I told him.

Quin almost smiled. "Me too." His face darkened. "Maddi, if you knew who did this to me, would you tell me?"

My stomach jolted unpleasantly. I tried to keep my voice level. "What?"

He spun to a stop, causing me to stumble into him. He caught my arms and looked me in the eye.

"Who called the police on me. Got me kicked out of the school with a record."

I sighed, "Quin, there's something you should-"

"Because whoever it was ruined my life. They're no friend." His grip tightened on my shoulders for a second. "I want to know who it was."

It was at that point I knew I could never tell him. Quin was the best friend I could ever want, but right now his mind wasn't stable, and it scared me. I gulped and forced myself to speak. "Quin. I don't know who ratted you out." He sighed, so I plunged on. "But you can go to school here. Start new and enjoy your life."

"I know," he said weakly. "I just want to know."

Fortunately, I slipped on the skates, falling flat on my back and bringing him down with me. We laughed, and that was that.

I ruined my best friend's life. Now he is forced to attend a local college where there is little chance of being moved on to Broadway, but he is happier. He is where his family and friends can watch carefully, where he is required to go to rehab and therapy by his parents. No new cuts have joined the line of scars down both arms. It may not be what he dreamed, but it's better this way. He's safe. I did the right thing.

I hope.

I Destroyed My Best Friend's Life To Save Him-And I Regret Nothing
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