The cold, solemn wind

October 25, 2010
By CaptainArnoldChang BRONZE, Denver, Colorado
CaptainArnoldChang BRONZE, Denver, Colorado
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
"They've done studies you know? It works 60% of the time, every time." - Brian Fontana

Three long, agonizing years ago, my friend Demetrius and I were constantly attending the basketball court. We belonged to our own world, playing basketball all the time and doing what we wanted, when we wanted. We enjoyed each others company. It was a brotherly bond that we shared.

His wide smile and the way he took stairs two at a time triggered laughter and comfort. But, I took a friend like Demetrius for granted and didn’t realize life would be like without him.

Everything was great, life was good until Demetrius flew to Atlanta to visit family. He was expected back in a week and a half. Waiting for him wasn't too difficult. I kept myself busy until the day after Demetrius was supposed to un-board the plane. I thought that I gave him enough time to unpack, so I set off for his house.
All of my emotions were banded together in a big ball of anxiousness, happiness, and excitement. I tried to keep a straight face, but I couldn't stop giggling. I mean my “best bud,” my “homie” was back! I skipped joyfully along the sticky, hot asphalt until I arrived at the front of his ramshackle house. My heart fluttered as I tapped on his door. My smile was the titanic, huge and unsinkable. As soon as I saw tears drizzle down Mrs. Williams' face the titanic began to sink. My heart skipped a beat and my pupils shrunk. A feeling of a alarm settled in the pit of my stomach. “What’s wrong?” I asked in a shrill voice, even though I already knew.
“It’s Demetrius,” she told me swallowing hard.

“What happened?”

“He… he… HE’S DEAD!” she squeezed out just before she let out a loud yelp and collapsed on the floor. I quickly grabbed her and we both laid there. Rising from the carpet, we moved to the living room. And there we both huddled, crouched over our own knees. She sat in the love seat and I sat across from her on the dry, itchy couch. Rocking back and forth, we were both in a catatonic state. After an eternity of silence I asked what happened once again.
“They shot him!!” her voice masked by tears.
“Who did?”

“I don’t know! It... he... I don't know why. All I know is that they shot him. They pulled the car up and... killed him... They killed him… they killed my baby!!”

The two weeks leading up to the funeral were a blur- a dark lonely blur.
The limo moved at a steady pace along the road. No words were spoken. It seemed as though the uncomfortable vibe of the limo cabin sealed all of our lips. I sat next to Demetrius’ sobbing mother, clutching his picture to her damp blouse. My eyes burned a hole through the side of the of the car as I choked back tears. I clinched my lip when I watched his mother pull the picture away, only to pull it back to her chest even tighter. I managed a smile through all the agony when I saw Alonso, Demetrius’ little brother, innocently play with the rain droplets that were scattered among the tinted window.

After the prayers were said they began lowering him into the ground… deeper, and deeper, and deeper, inch, by inch, by inch. Everybody began to pile into their vehicles afterward. But I… I sat alone- in the cold, solemn wind.
~R.I.P Demetrius W.~

The author's comments:
I wrote this article with extreme emotion and pain. This is one of the hardest things I've gone through.

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