7 AM. I’m walking around the school with my best friend. She asks me if I know what’s happening at our friend’s house because there’s a bunch of cop cars and ambulances. I have no clue, but I get a terrible feeling in my stomach. I brush it off and hope it’s nothing.
Third period. Kids quietly chat. Then my teacher clears her throat and stands at the back of the room, holding a small note. She takes an uneasy breath and with a shaky voice and teary eyes, she reads: “I regret to inform you that one of our students, junior James T., was found unresponsive in his bed this morning. Ambulances came and he was rushed to the hospital but there was nothing they could do…”

No. This can’t be happening. She couldn’t be talking about my JT. The JT I’ve known since birth.

The JT I grew up with. The JT I’ve shared memories with. But she was. He was the only JT in the school and now he is gone.

The rest of the day was filled with people crying and people trying to get me to talk. I wasn’t listening, though, because I didn’t want to have to explain why his death affected me so much. No one knew about us. No one knew I grew up with him. No one knew JT and I were practically family.

JT and I grew up together. We went on mini adventures and created our own games to play. We were partners in crime. We played in the ‘off-limit’ areas of his backyard, then would run and hide to stay out of trouble when we heard his parents coming. Hiding was the only way to escape getting in trouble. But once we heard our full names get called out, we gave ourselves up because we knew that when we heard our full names, it was serious. “Time-out” was almost a permanent location for JT and I, but even then we snuck away and continued our adventures.
We lost touch when he went into high school, and I stayed in middle school. The age difference used to not be a problem when it came to our friendship, but with us being at different schools, it affected us. We stopped talking and didn’t hang out anymore. Our families were still close, but our friendship was depleting. Our friendship was never rekindled to what it used to be, but he was still a major part of my life and I couldn’t let that go.

The next few weeks were the worst. I wasn’t over never seeing him again, and I didn’t get any sleep. My grades slipped, and I couldn’t stay focused. Although my grades never dropped below a B-, that was too low for me.

I decided to refocus and get better grades with a better attitude. I needed to focus on my education. I couldn’t let this affect my grades.

I was able to bring my grades back up and learned that whatever happens, it happens for a reason, and I can’t change it so I shouldn’t let it completely change me. His death changed how I acted for a while and my perspective on life changed, but I couldn’t let it change my academics. I know that if I want to succeed in life I need to be able to overcome obstacles and stay focused, and that is exactly what I did.

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