• Probably one of my greatest and most tragic high school memories is of Arik James Alston.


    It was about two weeks into my freshmen year in high school that I met the fifteen year old sophomore that would change the way I looked at the 215 freeway forever. He was charming, handsome, and street smart, he was Arik Alston. I met him through some of my friends, Ashley, Chico, and Jarrod. I love talking to him, even though a lot of the times I saw him he was drunk or high, trying to escape from problems at home, and didn't make sense. What can I say I fell in love. We started dating on his birthday, August 15. It was a rocky relationship I'll tell you that much. We would break up then, a day or two later, get back together then in a couple weeks break up again. The last time we broke up, he left. I had no idea where he had gone. An absence of almost 3 months. I was scared, not knowing what had happened to Arik, just about made me crazy. but on January 13, he came back. Oh how happy I was to see him! I embraced him so tightly I though his eyes might pop right out of his head. Seeing him smile again made my heart skip a beat. The smell of cigarettes and alcohol was faint, but familiar. His eyes, looked into mine and I think he knew how much I truly missed him and how I never wanted him to leave my side again. Arik was re-enrolling to Perris High, since he was a drop-out, he had quit most of the drugs he had done before, and was trying to cut back on the drinking. Things finally seemed to be working out for him and the next two days were the best days of my high school life. But on Thursday, January 15, at approximately 10:45pm, on the northbound 215 freeway Arik was hit by an SUV. I didn't want to believe it, so I didn't. It seemed unreal. The way the words escaped Jarrod's lips, it seemed like a joke, a cruel joke. All I could do was laugh a little under my breath and say "Yeah, okay." In a doubtful tone. "No really he was hit by a car on the freeway last night." He reassured me. I examined his face his eyes were sort of puffy and red. From crying? He stuttered a little in between words, like he was still trying to get around the fact himself. Then I realized. Jarrod wouldn't lie about something this big, especially not about his best friend. I nodded and as soon as I turned around I felt warm streaks of tears rolling down my cheeks, which were cold from the chilly January air. I slowly walked to my first period class,Physical Education. Tears streaming down my face, which was almost completely covered by my bangs. I broke down crying the moment I stepped into the locker room. The funeral was the following Friday. He's buried in the last row of the cemetery. I go to his grave a couple times a week after softball practice. I'll never forget Arik. And I can only hope he's in a better place.