It had been five years since she left me. Seemed like a lifetime. It's really hard for me to describe what happened after Leslie died, but I'll try.

So just after the accident, I was completely numb. And I guess I was too young to fully understand what had happened. I mean at first, I didn't believe it, didn't want to even hear it. When my sister first told me, and even when everyone else said it was true, it just didn't seem possible. But Leslie didn't go to school that week, didn't call, wasn't anywhere to be found. Finally, I realized that she was gone forever and wasn't coming back.

The way it set in gradually was like a knife slowly twisting in my gut. I wanted desperately for it just to be one long nightmare that I would wake up from, but I never did. Needless to say, I didn't sleep very restfully for some time.

Of course, my family left me alone after that. Everybody did. Even if they hadn't, I wouldn't have cared anyway. There's something about your best friend dying that makes you immune to trivial things like bullying, keeping up with chores, or getting in trouble. I tried to trick myself like that for awhile - that Leslie had helped me even after death, and that it was a good thing.

I also kept myself busy with May Belle. She took to Terabithia like a natural, filling Leslie's space immediately. I used to bring her there almost every day. And it was enough, for awhile. Heck, she was still just a little kid who adored her brother, and I didn't want to stop my routine of going to Terabithia. We did everything that me and Leslie used to do. It was fun. I liked it.

But that didn't last. You know how kids are - occupied for one moment and then onto something new. Simply put, the place lost its charm to her, lost its charm to me, and we went less and less until we stopped altogether. It's not even that I had more important things to do, because I didn't. I just wasted the time at home, watching TV, and kept up with running. I pretty much forgot Terabithia, forgot the magic of it, and pushed Leslie into the back of my mind.

And of course, there was puberty. It was two or three years later that I really started to change. Seems like I just woke up one morning to find myself two inches taller than before. And then a few weeks later, I was taller than everyone in my family except for my dad. So that kept me busy for awhile, as I started noticing girls at school more and all that. Had crushes. They came and went, nothing lasted. This is usual for most boys that age - so I've heard.

Then something strange happened.

May Belle was growing up, too. It was at her ninth birthday that relatives were commenting on how much taller she'd gotten, and that's when I thought I had seen something similar before. Later, I realized that she was starting to resemble Leslie. I mean, she looked more like Leslie than my older sisters even, with a skinny athletic figure she had developed by going on runs with me sometimes, more so than most girls anyway. Momma never would have encouraged her daughters to do that kind of stuff, but May Belle always followed me, and I guess Momma pitied me too much to make her stop.

When I really looked at her, the resemblance was clear. And that was probably the beginning of the end for me. It stirred shit up that I had buried deep down at the age of 10. For a long time, Leslie Burke had only come back to me in my worst nightmares. I'd wake up in a cold sweat but just go back to sleep, and everything would be forgotten by morning. Not anymore. For some reason, I couldn't shake it.

It got so that I kept replaying the old days with her over and over again in my head. It was like a constant loop of regret and depression that just hurt more with each passing day. I couldn't seem to block it out, with school or anything. The guilt had crept back, found its way into the pit of my stomach, and stayed lodged there. Night after night, I would cry myself to sleep thinking about her.

And why not? I mean, I neglected her – my best and only friend – for one second, and that was enough to end her young life. There was just no getting past that fact. I was old enough by now to comprehend death.

The day she would have turned 14, I visited her grave for the first time in years. It took me awhile to find the thing amidst the other gravestones, but it was still there. Her ashes were scattered somewhere down below. Long weeds had grown around the base, and it looked largely unkempt, forgotten. I guess Bill and Linda never returned.

Here lies Leslie Burke

1967-1977

I wanted to say something just then, but I didn't know how. Seemed that words wouldn't even do it justice.

So I just cried. I fell on my knees and just bawled my eyes out right there, for the whole world to see, until I was out of tears. Then I went home.