The friend I lost

Some things are lost before their value is felt. I had a friend. We were best of friends. He was there for me through thick and thin. We ran along school corridors together, shouting and laughing. We ate up the teacher's scolding, together. He was always there beside my shoulder, He always had my back. We never were the teacher's pets. We never were responsible. But, we were inseparable. Time stood still when we walked and talked and ran and laughed. Those moments will always be cherished. One day, I was caught for some wrong he did. It was suspected that I had played a part in it. It wasn't that big a problem. I could have let it run. I should have let it run. Instead, I created a fuss out of it. I turned my back on him. I blamed it all on him. I never asked him if he ever did it. He never told me. We stopped talking. We stopped meeting. I felt nothing for a few days. Then, I started feeling empty. I always thought of going up to him and talking about it. My ego didn't let me. Then one day, he got a call from the office. I sat like I didn't care, but I did, in the back of my mind. At that moment, I made promised myself to talk to him once he came back to class. He returned after around 30 minutes. He took his bag, and walked out. At the door, he looked back at my puzzled face. A tear rolled down his cheeks. He went away. He never came back. We were told that his mother had passed away. It was hard to digest, but I had to. I never went up to him, never talked to him. Kept keeping it for later.  Maybe, he hadn't even done it. I never knew. I was packing my bag that evening, when I saw a keychain he had made me. It was hanging down my bag zipper. It was a 'best friend' keychain, that he had forced me into clinging onto my zipper, even when I said it was girly. I felt like crying. I lost a friend. I did.