the thirteenth.

I rode through the city, oblivious to all the danger occuring at that same moment. I admired the beauty that lies within this world, not minding its ugliness. I laughed. My laughing turned into choking which turned into coughing which turned into unbearable pressure trapped inside my throat and chest. I found out that a bullet took your precious young life. They penetrated in multiple places and left you to fade away in the vehicle in which you traveled. Rushing to the hospital, experienced doctors tried to save you. Their attempts failed. Family and friends wondered where you were, uncertain why you did not call. It was THE call that ensured the unwanted news. Pictures, broadcasts, and articles flooded the media telling stories that I could not believe to be true, but they were true. Silver bullets collided with your vibrancy and made you dull. Your smile got lost in the shaddered remains of what used to be your intact jaw. Blood painted the street illuminating the darkness. Silence. No words could be found. Looking at videos and reminiscing on memories of you juxtaposed your lifeless body residing in that light blue casket. I touched you one last time. I admired your casing, your shell, one last time. I cried for the family that you would never have, the people you would never meet, the senior year you would never get to experience. Seventeen years was the amount of time you had here. Seventeen times over again I loved you. In losing your life, you received the ultimate reward, freedom from this world. Free from metallic dangers, free from pain, free from captivity. As long as the sun rises and shines each day, I know you are looking down upon us. Your contagious ray of light will continue to touch the hearts of many. You will forever survive.