final_telegram_1440362278It wasn’t until Colby’s successful third attempt that I learned of the previous two. On New Year’s Eve, behind a locked door, with his father’s shotgun. Before that, in the bedroom with a bottle of pills. Before that, some other place, some other failed escape. He was sixteen years old. He was the first of my friends to commit suicide, but he wasn’t the first to die, nor would he be the last.