Denial
I close my eyes, open them again
& reread the text message,
“dead” … there it is.
My mouth drops and my jaw quivers.
I am shocked, as if I were just dropped into the Arctic Ocean.
After a few minutes I erase the text in disbelief.
I am short of breath.
My nose begins to run.
I lie back on my bed.
Anger
My face is warm with rage.
I clench my teeth & think to myself.
How can he be gone?
Why was he taken?
Shaking in pain, my heart feels like it’s being stabbed.
I clench my fists closed.
I am bitter.
Confusion
Driving by the tracks where he was hit.
I see mounds of flowers.
I raise my hands & draw them across my shrinking view.
Hunched over I shake my head & turn away.
Why him? He was so young.
Acceptance
I catch myself looking for him
in the hallways where we used to pass each other.
I can’t walk by the park without thinking
about that sticky summer day
when all of us climbed up into that small, creaky tree house.
We sat up there until sundown, laughing & talking.
Most of the laughter was product of his clever personality.
There isn’t anything anyone can do to bring him back.
However, we can remember what made him so special
& try our best to keep that alive.
I close my eyes, open them again
& reread the text message,
“dead” … there it is.
My mouth drops and my jaw quivers.
I am shocked, as if I were just dropped into the Arctic Ocean.
After a few minutes I erase the text in disbelief.
I am short of breath.
My nose begins to run.
I lie back on my bed.
Anger
My face is warm with rage.
I clench my teeth & think to myself.
How can he be gone?
Why was he taken?
Shaking in pain, my heart feels like it’s being stabbed.
I clench my fists closed.
I am bitter.
Confusion
Driving by the tracks where he was hit.
I see mounds of flowers.
I raise my hands & draw them across my shrinking view.
Hunched over I shake my head & turn away.
Why him? He was so young.
Acceptance
I catch myself looking for him
in the hallways where we used to pass each other.
I can’t walk by the park without thinking
about that sticky summer day
when all of us climbed up into that small, creaky tree house.
We sat up there until sundown, laughing & talking.
Most of the laughter was product of his clever personality.
There isn’t anything anyone can do to bring him back.
However, we can remember what made him so special
& try our best to keep that alive.
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.

blingblang4eva

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