I reached for my last tissue and wiped my endless tears as I sat among my friends in the center of the crowded church, staring through blurry eyes at the slideshow of cherished memories flashing across the screen. Tears of confusion and sorrow dripped down my cheeks. I tried so hard to focus on the pastors heartfelt words of encouragement and the memorable stories that were shared by loved ones, but my ears could not listen, and my heart could not stand the desolate pain. I glanced up for a moment only to see a picture of us; she was bear hugging me, wrapping her small legs around my waist, and she looked so happy, genuinely happy. Her smile was beaming from ear to ear, for her passion and love for life was contagious. I could still hear her
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As I lazily drifted into my first period economics class, I noticed my teacher, Mr. Lacy, had a troubled look on his face. Minutes after the bell rang, Mr. Lacy carefully stood up and walked to the podium in the front of the classroom; he was noticeably holding back tears and stared blankly at the piece of paper he was holding in his trembling hand. “Unfortunately, I have some sad news to share with you all this morning,” he spoke to our class in a sorrowful tone. As he continued on to read the letter, I noticed a bit of hesitancy in his voice. The letter explained that Cassidy Hess, a junior cheerleader at College Park High School and a great friend of mine, had committed suicide the night before. At first, I thought there must have been some sort of mistake, that they must have the wrong girl because the Cassidy I knew would never do something so selfish, so gruesome. I was in denial for the rest of that class and would have been for the rest of the day if I would not have seen Cassidy’s best friend Abby run past me in the hallway. Seeing Abby’s tear shed face and puffy red cheeks was the moment I realized all the talk was true. My vision suddenly became a blur, stars flashing sporadically in all directions, and in that moment, I lost control. I was furious and completely confused and have been ever since that tragic
As I lazily drifted into my first period economics class, I noticed my teacher, Mr. Lacy, had a troubled look on his face. Minutes after the bell rang, Mr. Lacy carefully stood up and walked to the podium in the front of the classroom; he was noticeably holding back tears and stared blankly at the piece of paper he was holding in his trembling hand. “Unfortunately, I have some sad news to share with you all this morning,” he spoke to our class in a sorrowful tone. As he continued on to read the letter, I noticed a bit of hesitancy in his voice. The letter explained that Cassidy Hess, a junior cheerleader at College Park High School and a great friend of mine, had committed suicide the night before. At first, I thought there must have been some sort of mistake, that they must have the wrong girl because the Cassidy I knew would never do something so selfish, so gruesome. I was in denial for the rest of that class and would have been for the rest of the day if I would not have seen Cassidy’s best friend Abby run past me in the hallway. Seeing Abby’s tear shed face and puffy red cheeks was the moment I realized all the talk was true. My vision suddenly became a blur, stars flashing sporadically in all directions, and in that moment, I lost control. I was furious and completely confused and have been ever since that tragic