Tragedy and a new beginning.

I feel like a sixteen year old's most important memory shouldn't be so grim. Unfortunately, mine is.

Last year, April 13th was just like any other day. It was Friday, the day before April vacation at my high school. Last period. Everyone was a little antsy, especially considering the fact that my English teacher had chosen to put on a film adaptation of Moby Dick. It was safe to say I wanted nothing more than for the day to be over. I was supposed to spend my week of vacation in Disney World, in Florida, with the rest of my school's band and chorus. I was full of happiness and excitement.

Our teacher left the room as the assistant principal came to the door, motioning him outside. I thought nothing of it, and kept watching Moby Dick. After a minute or so our teacher came back in, turned on the lights, and paused the movie. Instantly my eyes darted to the clock, assuming the period was over. We still had a half hour or so. I remember internally groaning because I thought that now we had to do a writing assignment. Stupid.

"Guys, sorry to stop the movie but I have some bad news." Everyone's heads were lifted off desks or hands and we all turned in our seats towards the back of the classroom, where he stood holding a piece of paper. I still thought nothing of it. There was no surge of panic or worry in my heart. I sat there like I was comatose, not thinking there would be any actual bad news. Again...stupid.

"I have the unfortunate task of informing you that this morning, a senior student here at Holliston High was in a car accident, and that student has passed away." There was complete silence. Even at this point in time, even though all of my friends were in the senior class, I just blinked. No reaction of shock or horror, or even dismay. It sickens me.

"That student's name is Cori Sheahan."

I literally felt like I was punched in the stomach. With bricks. So many thoughts raced through my head that it's impossible to describe all of them, or even a few. So my body settled for making a completely involuntary, horrible noise. The only noise I've ever made completely involuntarily. A combination of a gasp and a scream came bursting forth from my lungs, shattering the silence, as my entire body jolted with the force of 50,000 volts of recognition at my best friend's name. At once I felt everyone's eyes upon me, everyone's pity staring into my soul. None of them knew him. We were only sophomores. I was the only one in my class who showed any reaction to his name. After my outburst, there was stunned silence, and I turned my head away from everyone. My teacher was talking, I didn't hear him. I started sobbing, my whole body shaking. I had to walk down to the library. I left my backpack. A girl in my class who I'd never so much as talked to got up, took me by the hand, and began to walk with me. She talked to me, patted my back, asked me how well I knew him. I must have answered her, but I can't remember what I said.

I was the only one in the library, for a few minutes, and some man was trying to talk to me. I didn't want to talk to him. He kept referring to Cori in the past tense, and Cori wasn't dead, damn it. I kept attempting to convince myself that I was only dreaming, pinching the skin on my arm, praying for someone else to walk into the library. I didn't want to be alone.

One by one my friends, his friends, came in, every one in the same state as me. No one knew what to do. We didn't talk to the grief counselors - how could they help? We held each other and cried with the deepest sorrow any of us had ever felt. It was wrong. Cori was seventeen. He was about to graduate. Things were finally looking up for him. He'd tried to kill himself a few times before, and obviously failed. But now, a car crash took him away from everyone while he was in the best part of his life?

The next few days, put simply, were hellish. I wasn't exactly in the mood to go to Disney World. The Sunday night before Disney, I got a phone call from the chorus teacher, asking me if I still wanted to go. It took me a lot of thought. At the time, of course I didn't want to. My best friend had just been ripped away from me, there was no fucking way I wanted to be surrounded with sickeningly cutesy happy endings everywhere I turned. Cori was supposed to be my ride buddy. He knew how scared I was of heights and rollercoasters. So he agreed to go on every ride right next to me, to make sure I didn't chicken out. To make sure I made an experience out of it rather than watch all my friends have fun. And what would I do without him? Eventually, I decided to go. But my Disney memories are for another entry.

His mother decided to hold the wake and funeral when everyone returned. The wake was one of the worst experiences of my life. It was open-casket, and as soon as I walked into the room Cori was in and saw him, I immediately rushed to the bathroom and vomited. I didn't want to be there, I didn't want that to be the last memory I had of my best friend. I wanted to remember him as full of life. Even now, it's strange for me to think about the wake. I walked up to his casket and knelt beside him, and forced myself to look. My eyes played tricks on me, fooling me into thinking that his chest was slowly moving up and down. He looked peaceful, at least, and he was wearing his favorite Flogging Molly t-shirt underneath a suit jacket. Even in death, I swore I could see that famous smirk on his lips. It was impossible for me to comprehend the fact that my friend just... wasn't there. He would never be able to hug me again, I would never hear his voice again. I could see him right there in front of me, but at the same time, it wasn't really him.

Later, after the funeral, we planted a tree for him on school property. At the ceremony, we all decided to sing his favorite song - "Drive" by Incubus. It was embarrassingly bad, as not many of us are singers, but we tried. And I think he got a kick out of seeing us make fools of ourselves.

I will always miss him. His death brought tragedy and grief, but also joy. Everyone needed friends. We needed a sense of closeness. I became much closer to people who are now my best friends. I made nice with my enemies - life's too short. Cori was, and still is, one of my best friends. I don't know what happens after death, but I hope he and I will be able to meet again.