By Meg C., Age 19
I came home from class last week and my mom had left me a voice mail asking me to call her because she had some “bad news about Nick.” So of course I call her immediately. She tells me that Nick passed away that afternoon. Despite being 19 years old and for all intents and purposes a rational person, my first thought was that the doctors were wrong. “What?” I asked. “He’s dead,” she replied holding back the tears. “Forever,” I questioned still not quite capable of grasping the meaning of a rather simple concept.
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