He was my best friend for 11 years - since I met him. We've
known each other since the 1st grade. His name was Ron - I
loved him very match, but he didn't knew that. We became
even closer since he got that awful news. I was in school
when Ron called me; I heard in his voice that something is
wrong. He asked if we could meet because there is something
important he needs to tell me. We met at that same day in a
nice coffee shop. Ron got there before me, he set there
shaking and smoking - I never saw him smoking. I set in
front of him. And after he ordered coffee he told me the bad
news. "I was at the doctor's today" Ron said, "he told me
that I have..." He took a sip of his coffee and continued
talking "...that I have cancer".
I was shocked, I didn't knew what to say, what can you say
to a person who found out that he has cancer... "I'm
sorry... I'm very sorry..." I mumbled and touched his hand;
he quickly took his hand away. The next day I went to the
hospital to talk to Ron's doctor. I asked him how long does
Ron have to live. The doctor told me that Ron has only a
year to live. I was very depressed. The next few months were
very difficult for me and for Ron. I researched about how to
treat people who have cancer. I was at Ron's house every
day; because of the chemotherapy that was supposed to slow
down the cancer he threw up allot and lost all of his hair.
I wanted to be there for him even in the bad times. I used
to go back home and cry all day. I was scared; scared that
I'm going to lose him. He was the one that I thought that
I'd marry and have kids with. And now I have to deal with
the fact that he'll soon be gone. My house was full of
paintings of him, because I was afraid that I'd forget how
he looked like after he will die. One day I walked in the
hallways in my school, and I got a phone call. It was Ron's
mother. She called to tell me that Ron died 10 minutes ago.
I dropped the phone, fell on my knees and started to cry...

Ron was 17 years old when he died. He had a nice funeral.
Allot of friends of him was there, and allot of his
relatives. The day he died was the saddest day of my life.
The only thing that I've got that will remind me of him is
the paintings... the house full of paintings...