My boyfriend Eddie had a best friend named Jeffrey. They had been friends for over 20 years. I met Jeffrey about 6 months after Eddie and I got together. They were nearly inseparable. Jeffrey was always at our house, spending the night and helping Eddie around the house with repairs and such. Jeffrey had a problem with drugs and was frequently depressed. We had him stay with us as much as he wanted to keep him away from the drugs but Jeffrey would eventually want to go home. The drug dealers lived across the street from him and he always gave into temptation when he was home. One week-end, Jeff became really depressed because his grand-father had passed away and Jeff started drinking and drugging and when he did this, he always had a poor pitiful me attitude. He thought Eddie was mad at him, and this depressed him even more. The night his grandpa died, Jeffrey called us and asked us if we had a pair of dress pants he could have. Then he asked in a crying voice why Eddie was mad at him and I assured him he wasn't.
Later that night, around midnight, the phone rang again, the call came from Jeff's house. I answered thinking it was Jeffrey. It wasn't Jeffrey, it was his aunt. She told me she had bad news, Jeffrey had hung himself in his grand-mother's back yard, he was dead at 34 years old. Eddie's best friend was gone.
The night before, around midnight, we were to visit the funeral home and there was a knock (three raps) on the living room window. The dogs went crazy. I went to the door and walked all the way outside, but no one was there. I didn't think a whole lot of it until the day of the funeral, I was in the shower and, again, there were 3 raps coming from in between the wall and shower wall. I then said "ok Jeff!" and closed my eyes.
I know Jeffrey is still here and I am glad he is.