Before I tell you anything, I’ll tell you that I loved Elijah Cory with my whole heart.
Elijah was my best friend. Sure he was troublesome, and he got suspended a lot, but he was a good kid. His heart was in the right place. People used to try to tell me that we wouldn’t be a good pair; he dealt drugs and smoked weed in his car, and I was the volleyball team captain and devout Catholic.
I liked to remind them that just because someone does bad things doesn’t mean they’re a bad person, just like how doing good things doesn’t make someone a good person.
Elijah was always telling me how much he loved me. It was intoxicating. I couldn’t go a day without hearing it, without feeling his hands on my skin. I believed he was my soulmate, if such a thing existed. I loved him so much, and it only got stronger every day. I was at a point where he was all I could think about. I couldn’t concentrate on school or sports or church and anything because the only thing I ever wanted or cared about was Elijah Cory. I was obsessed with him. He was driving me crazy.
Until one day Elijah disappeared.
Speculation spilled from the mouths of everyone who heard the news. People immediately began to spread rumours that he had run away to avoid the law, that he had been kidnapped by one of his drug suppliers or customers, that he was imprisoned in another state; all sorts of terrible things. I was devastated. None of them knew my Elijah like I did. For all they knew, he could have been on vacation. But anyone I asked gave me the same responses I had already heard. I missed him so much. Days, then weeks, and then months passed; nothing ever turned up.
I still love Elijah Cory. I can still remember the way his eyes looked and the way his voice sounded. Even after the case went cold and people forgot him, I never did. I kept loving him. I kept missing him. I miss him every day.
Sometimes I miss him so much, I wish I could remember where I hid his body.
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