Into Each Life Some Rain Must Fall

Mason Connor

I never wanted to believe that she was really gone. I can remember when the police told my mother that she was gone. She fell to her knees and started to cry. Even though she was not related to us by blood, we all still considered her part of the family. I used to think that her dad and my mom would get married and finally have a complete and perfect family.

Her name was Ava Taylor. She was so young and innocent, as all five year olds should be. I can remember her beautiful smile lighting up every room. She had this light blonde hair that hung down to her ribs. She had these large, beautiful, deep blue eyes that were so full of life. Whenever I looked into her eyes I could always tell how she was feeling whether she was happy or sad. She was always respectful and kind to everyone, even if they were mean to her. She put everyone else's problems ahead of her own. She cared about everyone and just wanted to help in anyway she could. No one has ever shown me as much kindness and understanding that she did.

Even though I was three years older than her, a big part of me depended on her to pull me through. She was there for me when my father died and yet somehow she made everything okay. She always gave me hope that one day everything will be right where it is supposed to be. I miss her so much. I miss her bright and innocent outlook in life. She was only five years old and yet she had this idea that everything had a brighter side to it. Nowadays, I have a hard tone seeing a brighter side to anything.

Now, I am sixteen years old and have to face another year without her. They say that time heals. The more time i spend without her, the easier her absence should be. They were wrong. Its not that it is easier, it is just that I know that have to move on with my life. Now I have to start to realize that life was never going to be the way we wanted it to be. My mom would never get remarried especially not to her dad. I could never have a friend that incredible. So in the realization that life will never be perfect, I have decided thateight years of grieving was long enough. Life may never be perfect, but it can get better. It has to become bearable again, somehow.

So, now I venture off into my junior year of high school. I am going to join the football team and actually be involved in the things that are happening on campus. I may even join the baseball team, or run cross-country, or even do a play. It doesn't really matter what I am going to do, the point is that I am moving on. I cannot let this tragedy run my life anymore. Moving on does not mean that I am going to forget, it just means that I am going to take back my life and succeed like she would have wanted. I am going to try to be happy because I know she would not have wanted me to suffer for this long.

My mother dropped me off at school, knowing this day would still be hard for me to face. As I got out of the car, I can see the worry and sadness in her face. I know it is hard for her too. She lost a good friend and probablythelo e of her life. She lost a child even though she want hers. I feel bad because, to be honest, it has gotten easier for me to deal with the pain, even today. Maybe this is finally my time to live a normal life. As I walk up the steps to the school entrance, I can see the Groupon friends I have made since this all happened. I can finally see that I am not alone. I know that these friends will be there for me when I need them. I am ready to face the world without her in it.

These next few moths have been the greatest time of my life. I have straight A's so far in all of my classes. I have this really amazing English teacher, Mrs. Brooke, who seems to really care about all of her students. She recently gave us a writing assignment due at the end of the year. She wants us all to thing of something that has truly effected our lives, good or bad. She wants us to write how it effected us in both a good and a bad way. As I tried tothink of something that effected me both good and bad, I have trouble thinking of one. All I can think about is her and what happened to her. Could that have a good effect on my life? Maybe that is the point of all of this. Am I supposed to try to see a good part of all of this? I asked my teacher about it. I shared a lot with this teacher. She told me that there can definitely be some positive outcome out of this terrible tragedy. Eventhough the event is terrible, you have changed but something good could come out of this if you let it. Just talking to Mrs. Brooke made me feel so much better about everything. I never thought I could talk about this event let alone write it all down and yet here I am preparing myself to document everything.

Everyday, my mom asks me about school, hoping that I will be okay. Everyday, I give her a look that tells her that everything will be okay. The truth is that I have never felt better about a school year. I made the baseball team, as a starter shortstop, and have a whole team behind me and that feels really good. I have though about it a lot less now that I have been doing so much. I feel really good about this year. I am really and truly okay.