He came to me when I needed him the most. I don't think he knows how much he helped. He helped me in a way that no one else could, but how did he know? How did he know I needed someone more than ever?
It was a cold, dark day. It was the middle of spring and another big thunderstorm was coming. I wanted it to be a normal day; but he was waiting for me in the hallway. Why was he waiting again? I walked past him and tried to forget he was there. He grabbed my wrist. I tried to pull away but he was too strong. He pulled me into a tight hug. In his low, rich voice he whispered, "I'm always here for you. When you are ready to talk come find me." He let me go. I walked away as soon as he did, so he could not see the tears running down my cheek.
I was ready to talk before it was too late. I was ready to talk to him about what happened. I wanted to tell him. I wanted to tell him what happened that long day; the story that I had told a thousand times. I had to tell him how I felt that day when my friends were killed. I needed to tell him before I forgot, before everything that happened that day finally catches up with me. This is not something I wanted; I didn't want to tell him. I needed to tell him. So I would tell him, I would go to his class and tell the teacher I needed to talk to him. So I did.
That afternoon we walked outside; I felt the cold rain hit my face. We walked to the gazebo in the school garden. I had to tell someone who really cares. Maybe it will help the pain go away. "I guess I will start with that morning," I mumbled while staring at my hands.
"Take your time," his voice was calm and caring.
"It was a normal day; we were talking and laughing, like we were always going to be together. I never thought that it might end. We were the only ones in the parking lot except for a guy in a blue and white van. He had been there all week, I guess he slept there. We wanted to stay there all day and just talk and laugh, but we all had to go our separate ways. We were saying our goodbyes, I had finished and I got in my car.
"I heard them laughing, because one of them tripped. The next thing I hear is glass shattering and people screaming. I ducked down and closed my eyes. The glass was everywhere. I wanted it to end; I wanted the screams to stop. I closed my eyes harder and put my hands over my ears. It finally got quiet. No more screaming. No more glass moving. It was so quiet. Then I heard the tires on the road." I was trying so hard not to cry as I sat there and told him about the silence that killed me more than their screams.
"I set up and looked around. I didn't see any of my friends. I slowly got out of the car; the first thing I saw was the glass. I felt the glass under my feet; I felt the cool wind on my face." I described this with tears coming out of my eyes like a waterfall.
It was so hard to keep going, "I stood there and looked at my friends, lying on the ground, lifeless. I could not move, I could not think. I finally got my phone out of my pocket and called 911. I don't know what I said.
"Then I heard the voice of the police officer asking me if I was hurt, I was frozen in my place. I looked at my arms, my hands, and my legs. I had blood on my hands; I had no idea where it was from. The officer took me to the ambulance and as they were working on my head, that's where the blood was from, she asked me questions. So many questions, what happened? What were you doing? Where did you come from? Who are the people on the ground? I thought it would never end. I could not answer, the only thing I was able to say was blue and white van, blue and white van, and I kept saying it, over and over again.
"She finally left me alone, she was not getting the answers she needed out of me. I could not answer her. As the paramedic worked on my head, and I watched them tape off the scene, it finally hit me. My friends were dead. I would never hear them laugh again. I would never see their happy faces smiling at me. They were dead and there was nothing I could do." I heard the bell ring, but neither of us moved. It was then that I noticed that he was holding my hands. They were as warm as the cool rain that hit my hands. I squeezed it once, as the tears from my eyes hit my shirt. He lifted on of his hands and placed it on my cheek. He slowly wiped the marks away, but I knew that they would be back in a minute.
