UNFINISHED | For Apollo Anglin, our beloved friend of many. A bit choppy, apologies.
|As the rain ragingly pours onto the sulking ground, the thoughts and regrets of our beloved friend and daughter lingers in our heads. Grief and Regret, a natural emotion of the human brain. Yet, we hate such feeling. The feeling of being sorry for oneself, drowning in your own sorrows, crying hopelessly as if maybe-just maybe-it will bring them back into your arms.
I couldn't believe it when I first heard the news, no one did. It was so sudden; it didn't seem even slightly possible for something so horrible and terrifying to happen to someone like you. You didn't deserve death. It shouldn't have happened to you. I didn't know what to feel at the time; I was too confused to process the news given to me. I searched aimlessly on various news websites, looking for a relieving answer for something so dreadful. Frustration was all I could feel. Only the simple news of a "teen girl" shot by a stray bullet was reported; nothing about the girl who was shot; no name, only his age and gender. I was frustrated. Frustrated at the shootout, frustrated by the news reports, frustrated at my friend who told me, frustrated at myself. Then, everything hit me. It was like a bat to the back of the head. Everything me and Apollo did together; The jokes we made, the fun we had, the time we spent with others. I wanted to cry-I did, of course-but I couldn't. I forced myself not to. I didn't want to cry, not now at least. It couldn't've been Apollo. No, it wasn't, I was sure. Yet, I still cried myself to sleep that night. I was sure, wasn't I? Why was I doubting myself so much? The news didn't say who it was, it wasn't his address, so it couldn't've been Apollo.
The next day. I woke up like any other school day. I stayed quiet in the car, staring out into nothing out the window. When I reached the school, I got out of the car and headed straight towards my group of friends.