I am 39 years old, I am a teacher. I have had many students in my few years of teaching, but none like this particular one. Neither have anyone of my colleagues. I am laying in my bed right now, I don’t know what to do or even think. Should I laugh to feel better? Would that be wrong? Should I cry to express my sorrow? Should I pray to attempt equality?

“Fair is not everyone gets the same. Fair is everyone gets what they need.”
-???

But, is this what this particular one needs? No. Finally understand why, why it is people said life isn’t fair.

The phone rings next to me, I pick it up. I don’t say a word before I hear the familiar voice.

“Henry? Henry,” The voice is frantic now. “Get ready!” The woman on the other end pauses, she chokes. Fighting to speak, she says, “It’s happened.”

“Okay,” I croak. The line goes dead, I drop the receiver letting it hang there by the cord.

My body turns cold, my eyes burning in rebellion. Hot tears roll down my frozen face. I continue to stare at the now blurred ceiling. I closed my eyes, it was the worst thing I could possibly do. Words cannot describe this feeling. I can only simply describe what I see. A once vibrant face now ashen gray the rose coloring in her cheeks were gone. Her shiny, delicate blonde wavy curls of hair have now fallen limp. Her shiny warm blue eyes like the ocean have frozen behind sheets of ice, blue stones completely lifeless. Staring, staring, just staring. She is dead. Jamie is dead. Taken by cancer, into oblivion.