A/N: Ok, so I got the idea for this fic when I was listening to Bayside. I started thinking about what happened to Taylor Briggs. Remember him? Casey's best friend? Well, I was thinking about how Casey doesn't seem to talk to him anymore. So, here's why. It's kinda sad and depressing. Read and review! Oh and I got the idea for the end from the book Go Ask Alice. And there's an excessive use of the f-word so if it offends anyone, don't read.

DISCLAIMER: WVD owns the characters. Bayside owns the song.

Tony, your life's not over,
but you've given up all you lived for.
Put the bottle down and fix the thing you ran from.
Do you say what you really mean?
Are you really how you're perceived to be?
If the lights go out tomorrow,would you know?

He was my best friend. He wasn't supposed to get addicted to speed. He wasn't supposed to overdose and die. I never got a chance to forgive him. It wasn't fair. Taylor Briggs had been my friend since I was six years old. He wasn't just my friend, he was my best friend. I could tell him anything. And then New Years came around... and Taylor snorted crystal meth for the first time. And it was all over. For the first few times he did drugs, I didn't say anything. But after awhile I got tired of seeing him high all the time and I just stopped talking to him.

I don't wanna call your family and tell them to build a coffin,
because their oldest son just overdosed on pills.
You've got a red glare in your eyes,
and the sky outside your door's a blacker blue.
I hate to see what's become of you.

I tried talking to him. I really did. I hated that not only was getting high all the time but he was trying to drag me down with him. I wouldn't let him. We ended up getting into a huge fight that didn't help anything and I ended up with a split lip and bloody nose. He was mad because I was "trying to tell him what to do with his own fucking life". Didn't he see that I was trying to stop him from going down the wrong path? Didn't he know that I didn't want to see him dead?

Tony, it's just a stick in the spokes.
It's not too late for you to find your way home,
because your friends are still here,
and your family's where you left them.
So put on a clear head and try it out for a ride,
because you're better than this and you can better your life.
You can't choose your father,
we're suffering together.

"It's not too late you know," I told him. "You can still get help."

"You know what? Fuck you! Just shut the fuck up, Casey, and leave me the fucking hell alone. I don't want your fucking help," he replied angrily and prepared to snort a line of cocaine. He was now not only addicted to speed, but now also crack cocaine, heroin, and pot. I knew it was only a matter of time before he would overdose. Before I left for good I told him, "Just remember that your friends and family are still here."

You're getting closer to the end of your rope.
I never thought you'd let yourself get so cold.
But lately I've been thinking about the things I said to you,
and now I need to prove that
I didn't mean it when I said, that you were dead to me.
You mean the world to me.

I stopped caring after that. If he didn't want my help I wasn't going to bother him. I avoided him at school, stopped talking to him, and just let myself become angrier and angrier at him. How could he do this? How could he just destroy his life like that? I caught him snorting what I'm pretty sure was heroin in the boy's bathroom at school once. He looked at me. I was pretty much at my breaking point by then and screamed, "Why the fuck are you doing this shit? Why the fuck would you just go and destroy your fucking life like this?" I had no idea what made me say all this. I was normally so much better at keeping my thoughts to myself. I continued. "I fucking hate you! You don't even fucking care that you're not only destroying your own fucking life but also all the fucking lives of people who used to be my fucking friends!" It was true. He had gotten all of my old friends into drugs. Every one of them, even my sister! I couldn't take it anymore! I just yelled at him until I couldn't yell anymore before storming out of the bathroom and over to my next class.

And now I regret everything I told him, because now he's dead. And he's never coming back.

Taylor overdosed two weeks after that incident at school. His parents had been away on a trip and his brothers were at work. By the time anyone found him, it was too late. And I couldn't help thinking that maybe it was my fault he was dead. What if he was suicidal? What if it was a premeditated overdose? Then it would've been all my fault. If I had just kept my fucking mouth shut, maybe he'd still be here, high... but alive.