They say after death, the human brain lives for 7 minutes to replay your best memories.  You would take up all seven of those minutes.  From the time we met to our final goodbye.  The time I slept over at your house and you woke me with ice cold water.  Our car rides to Chipotle.  Going to McDonald’s even though we both have 2 cents in our bank account.  My favorite memory of them all was the beach.  Going to the beach and sitting under the sun tanning.  The UV index was 9 that day and we burned so bad we couldn’t walk.  Then we were on the boardwalk for God knows how long talking to anyone who would listen to us struggle to form sentences.  I remember getting ready at your house before we went out for dinner.  I don’t know, every day with you is a good day.  

At least that’s what you think my last 7 minutes will be.  Little do you know, you won’t even be in my replay.  You won’t even be featured for a millisecond.  Not after the last time I saw you.  

It was a Thursday morning when we left school early together and hung out for an hour.  We sat in your room until noon when the UV index is the highest.  The weather app says it’s a UV index of 8 and we change into our bathing suits and get into your pool.  Something was different about you though, I noticed it.  The way your hands shook grabbing your water bottle.  How silent you were that entire day.  I thought you were mad at me or you were just in a bad mood.  I didn’t look too much into it until we got in the pool and you pressured me to go into the deep end.  You know I can’t swim, so I don’t know why you urged me.  But, I was willing to just because I couldn’t say “no”.  You stood on the edge of the pool as I tried to go to the deep end on my tippy toes so it looked like I was swimming.  

Out of nowhere, I sank.  I reached out a hand, hoping, praying that you would grab it and try to save me, but you didn’t.  Instead, you swatted away my hand and pushed my head deeper into the water.  The blood rushing through my body, my lungs trying to get just an ounce of oxygen.  Nothing.  The last thing I remember is how much hatred I felt for you.  The betrayal I felt, hoping this was all a prank and we could laugh about this over the phone.  Nothing could’ve prepared me for death.  For you, I hope those 7 minutes are filled with your worst memories, nightmares, and the darkest thoughts because I will make sure your life ends the way you ended mine.