“True Story”
By Kassidy Grant
10:50 pm. January 26, 2013. Her father comes home after a long day of work to, only to find his daughter wrapped up in his covers wedged between the end of his bed. She was dead. He begins to panic, knocking on every door in the bleakness of the cold silent night. Her mother was in New York at the time. She had just finished a long day of relaxation. Manicures and pedicures and a well needed luncheon with her sister. Nothing could have prepared her for the news she had to come. After six long months of boot camp in Rhode Island, she couldn't even come home to the comfort of her own child's arms. She gets the news and becomes weak and unstable, unable to even walk on her own. At exactly 3:44 am we get the call that Kyla has passed away.
My mother wakes me up from a dead sleep and informs me of what has happened. I sat there just thinking why bad things happen to good people. Or if I had been there, would any of this have happened? We sit on the bed and cry and cry, but we do not say anything. SIlence is the great healer. The date is now February 1st, the day of the viewing. We walked passed the shiny purple casket. Purple was her favorite color. Her dress was purple and she wore a white shawl with white roses all around it. He her hair was swept to one side with a flower on the other. We watched as she lay there in peace. No words, just silence. We were crying but somewhere in Heaven she was sharing her beautiful smile. Sometimes saying nothing says everything, so I cry silently.
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