After waiting for a while it was starting to get pretty late so we decided to go on without our escort. We walked for hours, after hitting every house my bag was getting too heavy to carry. I had filled up and entire pillow case with candy. As we started walking back it began to rain, not too hard, but a steady drizzle. I decided to walk my friend home before making my way toward my house. Once we got to his house and parted ways the rain had picked up significantly, the rain was beating on my helmet like a snare drum in the school band. It wasn’t far to my house but the rain made the walk seem to take forever.
The whole community was affected by losing such a person as David. The next day started cold and grey. Walking into school you could feel every ones pain, you could see the groups of people huddled together crying. Signs had been posted all over the school reading, “R.I.P David Taylor,” all the people had made shirts reading the same. It was more than just another death in the neighborhood, it was a knockout punch, and it would take quite some time to get up. No one had expectedhim to do this; everyone said he seemed fine the day before. Tragedy had struck our lives and none of us knew why.
Many people don’t understand that when a tragedy such as this happens, there is more than emotional pain. The physical side of the pain set in for the next couple weeks, I couldn’t get out of bed, not even to take a shower. There is also a mental aspect to how a tragedy can affect you. After David died I refused to speak to anyone, including family and close friends. I had turned my body into an empty shell. I never thought the pain would go away, and it hasn’t. I can’t help but feel partially responsible for the things that happened. I felt like me calling David and asking him if he was on his way over to my house yet, was possibly what pushed him over the edge. I’ll never know what he was feeling, or thinking before it happened. I just know that what happened to...