The Days With No Sun

Hes Gone...

He is gone. And I will never get to tell him what a great friend he was. I'll never be able to tell him how he impacted my life back in 5th grade and other grades too. I'll never see him smile again or laugh again or anything else. He was my friend too... And the boy who did this... The 15-year old that shot him is still out there. He was going to be 18 and he took that away from him... This world is such a cold place... He didn't deserve to die. He was a good kid. Always happy had everyone smiling and laughing. He did not deserve to die. Everyone knew his name only so many knew him. I was one of those people that at 10 years old in 5th grade we went through enough bull shit by this world we knew what was going on at that age. We talked like we knew the world. The things we talked about the things we knew. We should not have known at that age. We had family that was gang affiliated but we were not. We wanted nothing more than to stay away from red and blue. His favorite color was blue though... His style matched but he was never affiliated. It was just how he was raised. But his belief couldn't be more the complete opposite. He hated gangs he wanted nothing to do with him so when it was announced by the school that he was killed by a "rival gang," that "he was gang affiliated," I knew it was complete utter bullshit at its finest. He was taken from this earth 4 days after homecoming. 4 days. In those 4 days, something happened... So something changed in a young boys mind that made him say... I'm going to kill another kid. Something happened within 4 days that caused the death of my friend. I could be wrong... He could have been planning this for years, months, weeks, maybe within those 4 days... We don't know... He's still out there... If I find him... If all of my school finds him... He will be no more... Napo will get justice. I refuse to believe he won't. He didn't deserve to die. He did not deserve to go out of this world like that. He wanted to be a preacher... I didn't even know until everyone talked about it at his funeral... He had a great service... He didn't need it this early in life though... He was almost an adult still a junior in high school. 17. He was 17. He was too young. I miss him... I wish I could have been there those last days... I didn't even see him all of the homecoming... I went alone though... Met a friend and hung with her. But I should have said something. "Hi," or something. Anything to let him know I was there. Anything that could have maybe changed the circumstances. I wish there was something I could have done... And I hate myself every day for it...