ENC 1101-B3 & B4: Writing for Discovery

As the sun sets on a wonderful day of skiing, Mike and I are starving for a cheeseburger and a ice cold Bud Light. Our second day on the slopes was badass. I ate shit, coming down that black. What was I thinking? I hope we meet up with some ladies tonight. We decided to order so we don’t have to get all dressed up and wait in line at some restaurant. That was the best burger I’ve ever had, man, that hit the spot.
“Mike you wanna just stay in tonight, cause I’m kind of tired”
“Yeah, me to. Lets just chill here tonight”
Mike, just signing on AOL to check his email, gets am IM from a close friend of ours, Richard Carr.
“Mike, is Tyler there?”
“Yea.”
“Then I don’t know if I should tell you this.”
I wonder if Richard hooked up with Amanda or something, I’ll be really pissed if he did. I really like her and he knows it. He is supposed to be one of my best friends that would be messed up. It turns out that I was extremely wrong about the whole situation. Then Richard said,
“ Are you guys sitting down?”
“Yeah.”
“John and Danny were in a car accident”
“And”
“And John is dead”
“I’m sorry, Tyler.”
No way man, I thought to myself, I was just talking to John like two days ago. John’s too young, that would never happen. It couldn’t happen. That’s not right it has to be someone else. As I look over at Mike, I can see the tears running down his face. At this point the walls feel as though they are starting to collapse around me.
I follow Mike out to the back porch, and sit down in one of the four wicker chairs. The darkness off the night helps me not to think about John. Maybe its because there is nothing in the sky, so that keeps my mind free and empty form the painful thought of John’s departure from us. I want to believe it’s bull shit, that it’s just a joke, why or better yet how could someone pull a joke like that. They’re sick if this is a joke, it’s Richard that told me this, it’s not a joke. He was so young, it’s not fair, why John. I stared into the sky as though God would give me an answer.
With a word yet to be spoken since we have got the news. I turned and look at Mike, and I just break down into tears.
“Are you okay Tyler.”
“Yeah, man. It didn’t hit me till just now. John’s gone man. He’s not coming back. I was just talking to him two days ago.”
“I know, dude.”
“Why did it have to be him though. I mean, there are a million other kids in the world. Why did they have to take John?”
“That’s just the way it works sometimes, man. The ones who are closest to us are the ones who get taken.”
“John had his whole life ahead of him. What about his little brother’s, I won’t be able to look at them anymore.”
“I know it’s going to be hard for all of us.”
“Man, my parents never taught me how to deal with something like this, dude. I don’t know how I’m supposed to react. We’re not supposed to be going through this, were too young, man.”
“I know, buddy, we just have to be strong for John’s family and just be tuff till its all over.”
After our talk is over, I get up the nerve call my dad to tell him the horrible news. When he answers the phone, I can hear it in his voice, and I know that he knows what I am about to say. How did he already know about it? At first he doesn’t know what to say, it was a blanc mumble on the other end. I don’t blame him; if my son just lost one of his best friends I wouldn’t know what to say either. That really has to be hard. I cannot imagine what was going through his head. I would know how to deal with the situation. He can say is how sorry he was for me and how much he is going to miss John too. You know all the basic instinct comments in the Father’s handbook to make his baby boy feel comforted. He fishes with the conversation uncle Charles, the man who owns the condo where we are staying, will be bringing us home in the morning. Our conversation ends in the normal manner, but this time it has more of a meaning to it. It isn’t just an “I love you, good night. Tonight it made me realize that every time I say, “I love you, good night,” that now it might be the last.
Unfortunately, the worst of the situation isn’t over. It is two days later and we have to go to the funeral. As I put on my black slacks with the freshly ironed crease in them, I know that this is going to be the worst day of my life. My tie and my shoes are tied and it is time to go. I take a deep breath as I got into the car. Look, Taylor, you got to be tuff for Mrs. Glade and John’s little brothers; they’re counting on you. You can do it just, be strong and try you best to get through the day. This runs through my head for the fifteen-minute car ride to the funeral home, which for some reason seems to be an hour today. When we arrive, I see all my friends in parking lot and their tears are flowing like blood from a fresh wound. I try my hardest not to make eye contact. I know if I do my tears will be flowing, too. As my family and I get in line to pay our respects to the family, the realization of John’s death dances through my head, and I grasp the thought that he is gone from me for ever.