Death of a Best Friend

It was in a sixth grade classroom with about twenty strangers, where I learned my best friend would not return to school. The sun glaring through the window nearly blinded me as I turned away from the class to hide my tears. Facing away from the quiet room, I still knew everyone’s eyes were fixed on the teacher as they waited on her to say something else. After sitting in silence for what seemed like forever, the class turned their attention to the school guidance counselor frantically rushing into the room. I kept my position toward the window until she hurried over to my desk and told me my parents were there to check me out of school. It was the most unusual feeling I had ever felt. I had been to a few funerals before and I had even lost both of my grandparents, but losing Alison was different; it was unlike anything I had ever experienced. It seemed so unreal because just the day before I was sitting in the same seat talking to her. How strange it is that someone can be so full of life, but in just a short moment God can take them away. In that one short moment I lost so much. I lost the person I could confide in, the first person I told my secrets to, and the one I could be my complete self around. Friends like Alison do not come along everyday. On August 16th, 2006, only the third day at my new school, I found out how strange death is. Though some may not understand because they have never experienced it, the death of a best friend is easily the most painful feeling; it is an experience full of mixed emotions and countless life changing realizations. On that third morning of school, our teacher, Ms. Mandy, calmly announced to the class that Alison was in a wreck on the way to school. The only thing I could think about was how mad I had been at my parents for not allowing me to ride to school with Alison and her brother. The entire school, which could not have been more than three hundred people, met in the gym to pray. Mr. Skipper, our