Sad Friendship Fiction

I met her when I was five. We were great friends, best friends. She got me a necklace when I was eight, a friendship necklace in the shape of a heart that broke into two, one for her and one for me. When I was ten I gave her the first book I had ever written. I wrote it for her, I called it My Best Friend. When I was fifteen she whispered to me late at night of the boy she had fallen in love with, and would someday marry. We planned how I would come over every day and watch their children. One day, her family moved away. We called and wrote letters to each other, but I could feel ourselves growing apart, and it made me sad. I would miss her.

"Emma!" My roommate Stella yelled from the balcony of our apartment. The balcony had a view of the college where we would be attending the next day.

"What?" I yelled back.

"Wait, I can't hear you." She said,

I frowned, Stella had a hard time hearing and she was needy. She was not my friend, but I needed someone to help pay rent if I were ever going to college.

"Can you make dinner tonight?" Stella said, "You know I can't really cook."

"Yes, I can make dinner." I said with a slight sigh.

"Good! I'm going out with David, so don't wait up."

"Do you still want me to make dinner then?"

Stella rolled her eyes and said, "Yes, I don't think we are going out to dinner, and I don't want to starve."

"What will you be doing then?" I asked.

"Oh, I don't know, just sit and talk I guess."

"Ok," I said, "have fun."

Stella bustled around for ten minutes before she finally left, and I was alone with my thoughts at last.

I walked to the cookie jar on the counter in the kitchen where all the money Stella and I made over the last month was kept.

I started counting.

"Ten, twenty, thirty." The clock on the wall went tick, tick, tick.

"Five hundred eighty four dollars, and ten cents." I said, sighing a little. Stella had taken some of the money, last time I checked we had one thousand. She had taken a little under half of it. I pulled out twenty dollars, and stuck it in my bag. Then I grabbed my shoes and a jacket and left the house. When I got to the dollar store that was right around the street from the apartment I headed right to the office section, where I grabbed a pack of envelopes, a set of pens, and stickers.

"Well, it looks like someone will be getting a very nice letter." The lady at the checkout said to me,

"Who are you sending this too dear?"

"My..." I stopped for a moment, then said. "Someone I knew when I was younger."

"Are you friends?"

"Not really," I said sadly.

"Then why are you sending them a letter?" She asked."

"I'm just keeping up my unbroken faith." I said, with a sad smile. "Just like I have done for three years."

When I got home I wrote my seventh hundred letter to my first and last best friend.

Dear Willow,

I know that you don't want to talk to me anymore. I wish you would tell me why. I miss you. After you moved away I was heartbroken, I thought you were too. I could feel us growing apart, but I did not think it was really true until the day you stopped writing letters to me. I could not figure out what was wrong. I hope someday you tell me, but in the meantime, i'll just keep writing letters, and hope you write back. Love or hate Emma.

I sealed the envelope with a sticker, put my address and a stamp on the top, and then I wrote her address.

Willow Smith

122 Apple hill drive

Nampa, Idaho 82275

I slipped the letter into the mailbox. Then I started on dinner. Green beans and steak. Stella’s least favorite. After I made it I put the still warm food into the fridge, not hungry.

I went to bed with a knot in my stomach, knowing the next day would bring bad things.

"Wake up Emma!!!" Stella's shout sliced through my dream. She threw something at my head and said, "It looks like you got a letter."

I sat bolt upright, and grabbed the letter.

"While you open that, I'm going to eat whatever you made last night."

With trembling fingers, I opened the letter.


We are afraid to inform you of the untimely death of Willow Rose Smith. Age Seventeen. Her funeral will be held at the graveyard across from her house on July tenth twenty seventeen.

We are sorry for your loss.

I dropped the letter.

"She's dead...? Twenty seventeen!?" My mind raced.

"Stella, what kind of sick joke is this?"

"What do you mean? What a joke?" She ran out of the kitchen and into my room.

I showed her the letter, and even though she was not really my friend her eyes welled with tears as she said. "Oh Emma I'm so sorry, I wish that was a joke, but I got one of those for my brother a few years ago, it was so hard for my whole family. That's no fake."

"But we are not in the year twenty seventeen, we are in twenty nineteen." I cried.

"The letter must have been delayed."

"For three years?!" I felt broken inside, my heart or a part of it, had died when Willow had, but it hadn't known until then.

Stella ran out of my room, and I thought it was because she couldn't take all of my sadness. But she returned a moment later carrying a stack of bills.

"I don't know how much it costs to fly to Idaho from Texas, but I hope this is enough." She handed me ten one hundred dollar bills.

"You deserve to see her grave." I pulled Stella into a hug, then left for the airport.

When I got to Willows house I was met with hugs and tears.

"We are so sorry! We thought the letter had reached you, and all the letters you sent to Willow... we never opened one. We wanted to keep them all for her spirit." Willows mom said.

She handed me a large bag.

"I can take you to her grave." She said.

When we arrived I stared out the window of the car.

"I want to find it alone." I said. "Is that ok?"

"Of course it is." Willows mother replied.

I got out of the car, and began to I stroll sadly through the graveyard. In a hurry and somehow not, to find one grave. Willows grave. A tall tombstone caught my eye. I bent down to read the inscription, the soft petals of the yellow and pale pink roses brushed my nose. Their soft scent filled the air. 

Willow Rose Smith

 A Loyal Citizen, A Brilliant Student, A Kind Daughter, A Best Friend

Born, Two Thousand One

Died, Two thousand seventeen

My eyes welled with tears, I never thought I would ever be standing in front of Willow's grave, Willow’s grave! I dropped the flowers on the ground, and I slumped down next to them, my tears flowing freely. 

“I thought you were mad at me,” I said to the grave. “I thought you didn't want to be friends with me,” I reached into my bag and pulled out a stack of letters, hundreds of letters. All the letters Willow would never see. I opened the first letter and began to read. 

Dear Willow, 

I know you don’t want to hear from me, but I need to keep on trying, I need to talk to you. You're my best friend and even if you don’t, for you I have unbroken faith. 

The End.

June 11, 2023 03:22

You must sign up or log in to submit a comment.


21:21 Feb 18, 2024

Oh I like this... I've drifted apart from a number of people in my life, but I wasn't expecting the friend to be dead. What an interesting twist! I liked the opening part in italics, the brief, factual sentences remind me of writing in a diary, and I especially liked the detail of a friendship necklace shaped like a heart, but it can only be worn by two people when it is broken. I also liked the creative close to the letter "love or hate, Emma" Nice work!


Kaelyn Klaus
04:01 Feb 19, 2024

Thank you! I am super glad you enjoyed this. I love hearing that people enjoy my writing. I laughed and cried writing this.


Show 0 replies
Show 1 reply
RBE | Illustration — We made a writing app for you | 2023-02

We made a writing app for you

Yes, you! Write. Format. Export for ebook and print. 100% free, always.