Tell me what happened, When your eyes closed for the last time.

Hayden Michael Ramon Smith

28-July-08’ /: The Worst Day Of Our Lives.

Hayden died, in North Shore hospital, after having his life support taken off. The doctors said that he would never wake up again from his coma, and if he did, he would have severe brain damage. His best friend (and my very close friend) Allen, was given the choice of whether he would let Hayden live (although not very lively) or let him go. Allen gave the doctor the go ahead at 11:01am, and Hayden was lost to us, never to be seen again.

Hayden was your typical teenage boy. He was 17 years old, loved rock music (old school metal), partying and girls. He attended the same school as I was kicked out of, although he left after gaining NCEA lvl 2, which is the second highest lvl of achievement you can gain in New Zealand High schools. Dreaming of being in the New Zealand Army, his walls were covered in tributes to fallen soldiers, even though he didn’t know them. Hayden, also had some bad things in his life, like some other teens, he was a drug addict, although trying his best to sober up for the army, he never managed to, he loved to get stoned with everyone, and just have a good drink. Although he did some stupid things in his lifetime, Hayden had a high paying job as mechanic, and always helped out everyone else when he could, even if it meant paying their rent or buying them food.

My first memory of Hayden, was a photo my friend Allen had shown me, whilst we were in Primary school. We were 7, and he was talking about how great his friend was. I was really happy he’d found a friend like Hayden. Allen didn’t have many friends, mainly because he was a little shit, but he grew up and changed with time. I first met Hayden when I was 8, his father picked Allen up from school early one day, and Hayden came running into the classroom with tears down his face, screaming for his best friend, heartbreaking really. I later found out that Hayden’s cousin had died. My first conversation with Hayden was when I was 9, he was on the Peninsula Primary hockey team I was playing, and we started talking about how we both knew Allen.

Ever since then, Hayden and I were on and off friends. We had a lot of disagreements, mostly; dumb ones about music, but I’ll never forget the good times we had together as a group.

I remember one night, when all of the gang was at Allen’s house, and Hayden was so drunk, he couldn’t stand up, and was slurring a whole lot of nonsense, whilst drawing all over himself with a sharpie, The next morning, I awoke to him screaming about our friend Jack being a backstabbing freak and drawing penises all over his face. Needless to say; it was later proven it was him, and he shut his mouth.

I remember having a fight with him about which band was better, Metallica or AC/DC, I remember him hitting me with a pool cue because I beat him in pool and he wasn’t very pleased. I remember him waltzing into Allen’s lounge, talking about how cool he was for ripping his jeans, then using shoelaces to stitch them together again. He was really proud about that
I remember the day he got his Doc Martens; I’ve never seen him smile so big for a pair of shoes.

Thinking back on all of this, I think it’s sad that such a great person had to exit this world so early.
I’ll miss everything about him, from his usual dress style, his nasty comments about ‘scene kids’ to his spiky blonde hair he adored so much. I’ll miss him yelling my name, picking me up and swinging me around like I’m a ragdoll, then asking if I have a spare cigarette. I’ll miss him abusing me verbally, then five minutes later, taking me outside and apologising because he was too scared to say sorry to me in front of the guys.

I suppose most of you are wondering if you don’t already know; How did he die?

Well, in all honesty, my opinion was that he was murdered. I know it wasn’t meant to be murder, just a lesson, but it went too far. Hayden was shooting heroin two weeks beforehand, due to his depression, he felt the need to have it, he was still messed up from it, since he had an overdose and got admitted to hospital, where he was treated and released. He was been having on and off migraines since the overdose and decided to have some Panadol and a lie down, but he got a text, requesting him at a gathering at a mates house; Hayden being Hayden, couldn’t refuse no matter how crap he felt. He went of to our ex friend Becca’s house. Whilst at the get-to-gether, Hayden decided to have one drink of Woodstock (alcohol), and then have a small amount of weed, then he however, also had two party pills. After all of that, Hayden was fine, nothing was wrong, it was all as usual. He hadn’t touched his alcohol for a while, so he decided to have another drink, but whilst he was away from it, our ex friend Becca, had spiked it with Ketamine (A horse tranquiliser), she had put a lethal dosage into his drink, she didn’t know how much was enough to hurt him, or kill him. She thought that he was alright, so she didn’t feel guilty for doing it at all.

Hayden and a few others, went back to our other mates (Russell’s) house to sleep for the night, Russell’s mother opened the door to the boys carrying Hayden, a sign he was not doing well, although they explained to her that he was stoned and had something to drink, so she thought he was just sick from the party pills, and didn’t need to go to the hospital. Whilst the boys were making beds in the lounge for the night, Hayden collapsed, the boys started laughing because they thought he’d just passed out, and they stopped however, when they noticed he wasn’t breathing any longer. They called an ambulance and performed CPR until he was breathing, but only slightly.

He was taken to North Shore hospital, where he was taken to the emergency ward straight away; however, he had already slipped into his coma, and wasn’t waking up.

On the second day, the doctors noticed he had increased brain activity, and managed to get him to wake up, he only saw his father, his two sisters, his best friend Allen and his girlfriend Sam. He had asked for all of us to come, but nobody had any credit to text anybody, our phones were dead and nobody from the group even knew where I lived now. Hayden had time with his girlfriend before she had to leave the hospital because visiting hours were over. Allen was allowed to stay, but he was the only person, Hayden’s family accepted that, and stayed home for the night. Allen and Hayden held hands and talked together, until he got worse, and fell back into his coma. Allen slept right next to him that night, hoping and praying. but it didn’t work…

Hayden died in his friends arms the next morning, 17 years of age, with no knowledge of what was happening.

Hayden was murdered, by one of our own.

Friday 1st August, 08’
Today, in about 7 hours, I will be attending Hayden’s funeral. It is currently 5:22am as I write this sentence. For the last two days, I have been crying on and off. Locking myself in the toilet and silently screaming at the roof, wishing it was all a joke. I cried myself to sleep the other night, because I just can’t handle this. He can’t be gone, not now, not while he had everything.
What’s worse about this whole situation is that I may loose one of my other closest friends, Allen. Hayden was all Allen ever knew in life, Hayden was his air, He did anything and everything for him, and vice versa. They were never apart if they could help it, they were like soul mates, only in friend form. Allen ran away, the night Hayden died, he was found the next day, crying by the beach, holding onto a photo of him, the same photo he had showed me. I’m so scared that Allen will hurt himself; he does it all the time lately, because he’s failing rehab, and now with Hayden gone, His only support in this world, he’s lost. Hayden’s girlfriend isn’t taking it good either, and she was close to me for a long time, were still pretty close. Despite Hayden being a prick most of the time, I really did care a lot about him, he was a great mate, and always made me laugh when I needed it, and now that he’s gone, it’s going to be a lot different, all of our groups will splinter off, and not hang out anymore. One of our old friends is now in jail for his murder, although she will be at the funeral tomorrow, we won’t see her for a while, not that any of us want to.

What bothers me the most in all of this, is that it was Hayden, out of all of us, none of us ever picked Hayden. It was like he was invincible, he never got hurt, and when he did, he always pulled through and came out stronger.
It scares me, but also makes me wonder who my real friends are. It makes me think about drinking anything, it makes me double check taking any and all pills, it makes me shake when the word ‘marijuana’ is said, and it makes me cry when people who didn’t even know him that well, say that he deserved it. He didn’t deserve anything, no one deserves to die. Not like that anyway.

Today is going to be hard. Guaranteed, I’m going to breakdown in front of almost 100 or more people. (Hayden was pretty popular) I’ve been asked to sit near Allen, to keep him calm, which will be near the front. This makes me nervous, because everyone can see me, and what’s worse, is that I’ll be able to look back, and see all their tear stained faces. In a way, I just wish it was somebody else in the group, because Hayden didn’t deserve it, he had the most going for him in the lot, and he worked really hard for it, he didn’t even get to enjoy most of it.

A lot of us have been having dreams lately, about him just knocking on the door, sending us a text or giving us a phone call. It sounds crazy, but we’ve all been having the same dream. Maybe it’s just because we’re not ready to let go yet, maybe it’s because he wants us to know, that he’s really still here.

All that matters now is that he gets to wherever he’s going safely, and that he meets his mother and cousin again up there.
Wherever he’s going, I just know he’s going to be the life of the party, no matter who’s there.
We all believe we’ll see him again, and we’ve all made a promise, that every year, on the day he died, we’re all going to write a letter, addressed to him, telling him about what’s been going on in our lives, and burn it, hoping the smoke will carry those words to him, …or the nosey prick was reading over our shoulders.

I’ve lost count of how many tears I’ve cried within the last 3 days.
I’ve lost count of how many silent screams have erupted from my mouth.
I’ve lost count of how many memories we’ve lost, broken and forgotten about Hayden.
But what I haven’t lost count of, is that smirk he always gave us, whenever we were around.
That’s what we’ll always love about you, your ability to smile, even in the darkest times.









Posted on July 31st, 2008 at 01:41pm

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