On February 9th I had gotten on the bus as usual and the girl that I previously argued with the day before asked me how I was and how your family was doing. I said that they were good although you were still sick. But then she looked at me with sorrowful eyes and told me that you were gone. Silence, thinking, and trying to push the words away. Then crying. Only one of your brother’s got on the bus that day. We sat together and sobbed uncontrollably. I begged him so many times to go home so that he could be with your family. As we got to school everyone was in hushed whispers talking about it. Talking about you. Anger, crying, and pushing people away. That’s how the rest of the week was for us. Hearing your voice, your laugh, and your witty little comments and jokes. Then your favorite song, yellow, and then green. Days go by and I still try to deny it.