The Short Life

I'd only talked to him maybe twice, three times. Always with some of my friends around. Or rather, I'd be around them all. There's a difference there, even if you don't know it.

And this kind of stuff, well it doesn't happen around here. It just doesn't. It's not that my town is super small, or super safe. It's just that... up here it seems like it's own little bubble. And things happen...

Well, I guess what I'm trying to say is, this doesn't happen to people I know, and to people who people I know, know. We're not a huge, tight-knit group. Some of us hate each other, some of us have history, some of us have nothing at all. But it only takes one thread to bind people.

So you can kind of see how I'd be skeptical. People have played crueler jokes. And this stuff just doesn't happen. Not around here.


So far, rumors say that he got hit by a car near the mall. Another says that he died in his sleep, which is scary. Cause he's our age. Maybe even younger. I think he skipped a grade or two.

There's nothing about it anywhere. Sunday is a silent day for news and the like.

No, I don't need condolences. I hardly knew him. Doesn't mean I don't feel anything for it all, but really, I can't say anything. I have nothing to say. It's sad, but I'm not hurting. I'm more scared than anything, to be reminded that this kind of stuff happens.

No, it's those who were actually friends with him that need the condolences and the support.

It's a crazy world out there. It's sad that the young and the great and the hardworking don't always get to live it fully.