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Her Unforgettable Smile MAG
Susan used to be one of my favorite counselors at camp. She used to always be energetic and fun. Her beautiful face was perfect. It would always be shining down on you, making you laugh. But not now. Not any more.
Early one morning, after about two weeks at camp, we were all called to gather at the ball field. I was annoyed and wanted to know why we were having an assembly so early. “Oh great, we’re not going to go to Wier’s Beach today,” I said angrily. But after the assembly, I was sorry those words had come from my mouth.
Only after we were all seated on the lush carpet of green grass did I notice how solemn all of the counselors looked. It scared me.
The next few minutes were just a huge blur of words that got jumbled up in my mind, but didn’t make sense. My mind was a maze for words that had no end. I tried to listen, but it was as though my ears had flown away. I just barely managed to catch some words:
“...There was a car accident...”
“...Nine counselors were in the car...”
“...Some counselors were hurt, others are just in shock...”
Terrifying scenes ran through my mind. I felt dizzy and sick.
No, this isn’t happening! This is only a dream! I thought horridly. The walls in my mind were caving in on me. My whole life was falling apart. The most shocking news in my whole short life was yet to come...
“...Susan Samuels did not survive the crash...”
I felt a sharp chill prick up and down my spine as the hideous words echoed rapidly through my mind. What? This is impossible! At camp? No! This is only a dream. Everything is fine. I tried desperately to persuade myself to believe I was just having a nightmare. But I knew deep inside my heart that it was true.
I felt hot tears pouring down my cheeks and splash to my t-shirt as I ran towards the bunk. When I arrived, I found two of my bunk mates already crammed into the bottom of their sleeping bags. I threw off my shoes, hopped into my sleeping bag and buried my face in my pillow. We cried for a long time. Though I didn’t know why, I couldn’t accept Susan’s death. My friend Anne came over to me and suggested we talk about some of the good memories of Susan. Though we had known Susan for a brief two weeks, she had already become a part of us.
“She always made me smile,” I added to the newly started conversation. After a bit, we just sat and thought to ourselves, thinking of our memories of Susan.
I know Susan is gone, and I will never again hear her cheerful voice, but I still have not fully accepted what has happened. This I know will take time. Whenever I think of her, I think of an exciting person always smiling down on me with her perfect face. And a smile puts itself across my face.