The pain and emptiness of losing someone, especially your best friend, never really goes away. As children we are told that death is final and we will never see those who have passed, ever again. That being said, I had to reevaluate my life at age five when my grandfather passed away. I told my mom that I wanted a cat and that it would live forever. She smiled her beautiful smile and two days later I had a small gray kitten that I was to take care of. All of this, however, did not prepare me for what happened later in my life. But I'll get to that. My name is Phoenix Wright and this is how I dealt with the 'death' of a very good friend...and lover.
It all started when I turned eight in late March of 2000. My parents bought me a bike, and because I was a fast learner, the training wheels came off a month later. There were no limits after that and my good friend, Larry Butz and I were constantly testing any boundaries that came our way. Occasionally our antics included one Miles Edgeworth. He was an unusual boy, kept to himself at school, but after school he would run around with us, causing quiet havoc throughout the neighborhood. We would walk to school together and most of the time the three of us were a force to be reckoned with.
That summer marked the first of many lessons of losing someone precious in my life. I knew my mother and father were not happy; they hadn't been happy in several years. It started with the occasional fights, but I remember there used to be more happy times than down times. Somehow it escalated and my brother, Chandler, and I noticed that we weren't seeing our father as often as we used to. Our weekends stopped being the fun filled family outings, and started filling up with chores that we picked up where our father wasn't there to do. Finally, towards the end of summer, our mother sat us down and told us that our father wouldn't be around anymore and that Chandler would have to be the man of the house. He was twelve at the time and he was proud and sad at the same time. I, on the other hand, was indifferent. I was a mama's boy; however I did love my father, and I did miss our occasional moments where we would sit and read classic novels like Animal Farm and The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. I was resigned to the fact that I would only see him under special circumstances. Plus, I had Miles and Larry, and that was enough for me. Chandler... wasn't as lucky, and in the middle of the the fall semester, he moved on with father.
In the early spring, Larry, Miles and I were a force again and our bond strengthened one fateful day. Larry was skipping school, and I stayed out of P.E because I was coming down with a cold. Miles's lunch money was stolen and when he asked around, the other kids accused me because I wasn't there and I was poor etc. In our forth grade class, nothing escaped the ears of gossipy little girls who all had crushes on my big brother. When he wasn't at school that semester, the rumors flew about how our father had cheated or our father was in jail, or something ridiculous like that. I tried to blow the rumors off, but they hurt. Miles simply brushed the kids off, telling them they were simpletons, etc. He always used bigger words than we understood, and most of the time ended up the butt of a joke or two. This time however, it was my turn to be the receiving end of a very bad joke; at least that's what I thought it was, until the class turned against me. The teacher decided that the only way to settle everything was to have a mock trial, and since we were studying the American Judicial system it seemed fitting. It was an ugly scene, and the first time I ever cried in front of my peers. Why they felt as strongly as they did, I'll never know. It hurt, and left me disillusioned. Suddenly, Miles stood up and yelled an objection and stated his case plainly and clearly. Larry stood up for me as well and they argued with the teacher until she got so fed up that she decided to pay Miles the missing money and ended the trial. That was when I realized, I didn't know Miles as well as I thought.
The three of us spent a lot of time at each others houses, doing homework talking about movies and each others families over the summer and fall months. We spent the most time at Miles's fathers because he had the largest house. That and the fact that my mom swooned every time she came to pick me up. She was constantly reminding me that he looked like an actor that her mother used to go gaga over. I would only shake my head at her, but secretly I would admit that he was very pleasant to look at. It got to the point to where my mom was baking pies and cakes for Miles's father and he would accept them graciously in exchange for small repairs and odd jobs around our house. But as much as my mom turned on the charm, Miles's father was always polite and never made advances. My mom finally resigned to having him as a male friend and a sort of father figure in my life.
Then came the fateful day that would turn everyone's lives around.