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I just don't understand
I know I wasn't the closest person to Mica, but I wasn't the farthest person, either. I heard rumors until today, when Erica looked up my number in the campus phone book just to let me know he was dead. Dead. Even now I find it hard to believe. It's just so . . . impossible for me to grasp the fact that someone I saw almost every day for eight years is gone. I'll never see him again. I can't even wrap my head around the idea that someone our age, someone I knew, is gone. Dead. It's just so . . . messed up.
My hands are shaking. I can't even . . . no. I know how cliche it sounds, but it is a reminder of our mortality. If someone so good and smart and nice and young as Mica could die, then any of us can go any day. Today. Tomorrow. In an hour. In a minute. It's just to hard to grasp. I don't get it.
Okay, I'm going to stop now and just remember him as I knew him.
I remember being in math class with him in seventh and eighth grade. He would make jokes in class, and he always did so well. He was good in math. He was good at a lot of things. He always sat near me in math because our last names both start with 's' and the seating was done alphabetically. He would make fun of Mrs Mackenerny behind her back when she was putting up the "morning math" (which was void in all senses because we had math eighth period). And when we were in Kellman's math class, he would banter with Mr Kellman and always get him to almost bring out his book of horrible jokes.
In sixth grade, I think it was, we were in an art class together. I remember him saying that he liked Star Wars, which immediately made me respect him even more. We had to make these three dimensional paper mache sculptures of characters from books and movies. I made Helaine Votrin from "Diadem" and he made Admiral Ackbar from Star Wars. It looked really good and I remember admiring it at the little art show we had. And I told him I thought it was cool, and he thanked me. He was always so nice.
In high school, my memories of him are a little more fragmented. We were in a few classes together, we hung out sometimes in studyhall. I don't have any solid memories of those times. I remember him at the Ring Dance, seeing him around in his tux. I remember seeing him in the hallways. I remember his nickname was Boy. Boy Stanmyer. I think Mr Kellman started it, but I can't be sure.
I remember the first election I was allowed to vote in. It was his first election, too, because he was closer to my age than a lot of the people in my grade. My mother and I went down to the High Falls fire house and we waited in line. Mica was signing in just as I was, and I talked to him about the candidates. He was voting for the Green Party. It was the race for NY governor, I think last year.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that I miss him, and I always will. It isn't fair that it should happen to someone as good as him, but it did. Why do good people keep dying? I want to know. It isn't fair. I hate it.
Okay, breathe.
I miss you Mica, I wish you rest and peace, and even though we were never close I want you to know I love you.
My hands are shaking. I can't even . . . no. I know how cliche it sounds, but it is a reminder of our mortality. If someone so good and smart and nice and young as Mica could die, then any of us can go any day. Today. Tomorrow. In an hour. In a minute. It's just to hard to grasp. I don't get it.
Okay, I'm going to stop now and just remember him as I knew him.
I remember being in math class with him in seventh and eighth grade. He would make jokes in class, and he always did so well. He was good in math. He was good at a lot of things. He always sat near me in math because our last names both start with 's' and the seating was done alphabetically. He would make fun of Mrs Mackenerny behind her back when she was putting up the "morning math" (which was void in all senses because we had math eighth period). And when we were in Kellman's math class, he would banter with Mr Kellman and always get him to almost bring out his book of horrible jokes.
In sixth grade, I think it was, we were in an art class together. I remember him saying that he liked Star Wars, which immediately made me respect him even more. We had to make these three dimensional paper mache sculptures of characters from books and movies. I made Helaine Votrin from "Diadem" and he made Admiral Ackbar from Star Wars. It looked really good and I remember admiring it at the little art show we had. And I told him I thought it was cool, and he thanked me. He was always so nice.
In high school, my memories of him are a little more fragmented. We were in a few classes together, we hung out sometimes in studyhall. I don't have any solid memories of those times. I remember him at the Ring Dance, seeing him around in his tux. I remember seeing him in the hallways. I remember his nickname was Boy. Boy Stanmyer. I think Mr Kellman started it, but I can't be sure.
I remember the first election I was allowed to vote in. It was his first election, too, because he was closer to my age than a lot of the people in my grade. My mother and I went down to the High Falls fire house and we waited in line. Mica was signing in just as I was, and I talked to him about the candidates. He was voting for the Green Party. It was the race for NY governor, I think last year.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that I miss him, and I always will. It isn't fair that it should happen to someone as good as him, but it did. Why do good people keep dying? I want to know. It isn't fair. I hate it.
Okay, breathe.
I miss you Mica, I wish you rest and peace, and even though we were never close I want you to know I love you.
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