Journal Entry # 99 :

Upon hearing the news of his death I immediately sped to his apartment. When I drove up, I saw his mom, surrounded by firefighters and police officers outside of the apartment complex. She was hurled over with her hands on her face, choking on her tears, unable to speak. The sight of her like that made the hair on my arms stand straight, and my throat felt like it was closing in as my eyes welled up in panic of what might really be happening.

"Your name is Andrew. You are 13 years old. You are an orphan. And your life sucks."

The first stage of grief I experienced while coming to terms with Stan’s condition was depression. Having received no sympathetic support from my family, I sat alone by Stan as he slept. Thoughts raced through my head, so much so that it was hard to think, so instead I began to cry. As I cried the fog in my head slowly lifted, and the only thing I could think about was how I was not ready for him to leave, and I couldn’t fathom how to continue without him. The cliche phrase ‘he’s in a better place now’ kept surfacing in my mind, and no matter how great my will I could not bring myself to believe it. I felt so helpless sitting there next to him knowing he was in pain and there was nothing I could do about it. I left his side only when I could no longer keep consciousness, and somehow deep within my heart I knew he wouldn’t make it through the night.

Kendrick asked me to have dinner with him tonight at his cottage. He said he was preparing something special for dinner. This would be our last time together before he went back to the oil rig for another twenty-eight day shift. As I thought of all that time we would be apart, I wanted to make tonight extraordinary, and something he would remember while he was out on the rig. I also hoped that it would make it easier for me to be without him for the next month. I still hadn’t had the courage to voice how I felt about him. I needed to figure out my feeling toward Kendrick. I started to believe I might be able to trust this male. Kendrick had risked his life to save me from the Finman. I couldn’t think about getting hurt again: it would crush me to have Kendrick deceived me. I

Everyday is a battle. Battling for the strength, courage, and heart to carry on without him. There is a hole I'm manu hearts from the accident, but it can't change now so we must carry on. I remember my mother telling me, “Keep your head up! Choose not to be sad today.”

It had been a full year since I had seen my dad. But now we were coming together to celebrate the end of 1975. It was to be a new chapter, a new start, a new page. I want to start this year with positivity and not with hatred or anything biting at me. I will try to take everything easy. But the fire still weighs on my mind.

I ran downstairs and found my father on the floor. My mom just stood there and did nothing. I... I killed them. I wasn't able to save them." My voice cracks and I start crying. Aaron moves closer slowly, he puts an arm around me and brings me in for a hug. I would never let someone do that, but right now I need a shoulder to cry on. He's warm and welcoming. "It's ok. Just let it out." "Honestly, how can I be ok. I'm alone now..." His response angers me. How can he say it's ok! He's not going through my pain. "You won't be alone. I promise. I'll help you." I'm startled by his words. I look up at him wide

Have you ever felt so helpless to help someone? you would give anything to take away their pain and help them get better? 05/11/15, the day my brother died. Four-o’clock Was when my life really started going downhill. My mother left to take my sisters to violin lessons and I stayed home with Luke and Nicholas. I started making lunch for the boys with Nicholas's help, he was peeling eggs while I was washing them in the sink. Nicholas dropped an egg yolk and it went rolling across the floor right to Luke’s feet, where it was promptly picked up as he stuffed it in his mouth, I heard strange noises and turned around to see what looked like Luke throwing-up, but he wasn’t. When I realized he was choking I was scared, but not as scared as I was when

His grief was private and I had to shield him from the crowd. That was all I could do, because I couldn't do the one thing I really wished I

I walked into the room on New Year’s Day and felt a sudden twinge of fear. My eyes already hurt from the tears I had shed and those tears would not stop even then the last viewing before we had to leave. She lay quietly on the bed with her face as void of emotion as a sheet of paper without the writing. Slowly, I approached the cold lifeless form that was once my mother and gave her a goodbye kiss.

On a dreary, stormy Friday morning, Connor’s voice was replaying over and over again, telling me, “It is going to be okay.” It took me back to Saturday morning, the first day of my vacation; I was sitting at the kitchen table with my family, drinking my morning coffee. I received a text from my best friend, Olivia, disclosing that our friend Connor had a brain aneurysm, was rushed to the hospital, and was on life-support. Connor also had bleeding on the occipital part of his brain, which normally is not a reassuring sign, but the doctors were optimistic, telling family and friends he would wake up tomorrow. That night, I continuously thought about Connor, telling him in my mind that he was not allowed to die. Sunday morning, I woke up to another text from Olivia, telling me the bleeding in Connor’s brain did not stop and he had been taken off life support. Connor officially passed away at 4 p.m. on Sunday,

Imagine hearing everyone you love crying, praying, and begging for you to just open your eyes or move your hand and you are trying your best but your body refuses to do what your brain tells it. It's killing me to hear Dmitri's voice constantly talking to me telling me how sorry he was and how much he loved me. I never thought my brother would be this depressed without me he cried almost every time he came into my room and Shanice was no better even though she tried to be strong she was failing miserably, but the voice I wanted to her the most was my angels. Not hearing Lyric’s sweet voice for so long was killing me, I have no idea how long I've been like this but it feels like forever, all I want is my life back. As soon as my eyes open I

Everything around me is chaos. I lay beside my dead husband, holding his hand and my stomach at the same time. I’m in pain. Both physically and emotionally. This can’t be happening.

I sat in my silent grief and awaited the start of the funeral service. I struggled to hold back the grief; tears flew steadily and silently down my immobile face. I felt bruised inside, numbness, emptiness, as I walked behind dad’s coffin. Although he is gone already, my soul unwilling wants to acknowledge the finality of death, thinking about how I will never be able to look upon his face again, see the warmth in his eyes,

I woke up on a beautiful summer morning in late October of freshman year. I stretched my arms, rubbed my eyes, and looked at my phone like I always do before I lazily get out of bed and prepare for school. I noticed I had received several text messages from friends whom I had not spoken to in ages. As I started to read them, one after another, they all said the same thing, “sorry for your loss”. I started to worry, I texted back to a couple of friends wondering what had happened. It was then when I received the news that Tommy Quinn, one of my best friends, had taken his own life.