Suffering brings Strength
August 24, 2004 was my first day at Southeast Polk high school; being a transfer from a extremely small school that I had went to my freshman year, I was quite overwhelmed and alone. I did not talk to anyone at all that day until the last class of the day. It was a small class size of only about ten to twelve students. As in the previous classes I was not too talkative and of course I sat by myself on the opposite side of the room as everyone else. I was preparing for class to start when I looked up and saw this attractive girl walking towards me. She sat down, right next to me and introduced herself with a hand shake. “Hi my name is Angie H–”, she said delightfully. “Hi, I’m Isaac P–, nice to meet you”, I told her. We talked for a bit before class started and she sat by me the rest of class. Everyday of school she would always wave to me in the halls and say hi in class, I will always remember how nice she was and how welcoming she made me feel that first day. It did not take to long to find out who she was. She was the valedictorian of my class of 400 students not only that but she was one of the most popular kids in the school. I thought it was that much nicer that a “popular” kid would be so friendly to me.
The first semester of my sophomore year finally had passed and second semester was about to begin. I was getting to know more and more people but I was still kind of on the outside, so I was hoping to have Angie in one of my classes since she had become a good friend to me in the little time I had been at school. Thankfully she was and it was Spanish class, I was pretty happy I knew at least one person.
The semester was going really good and everything was looking up for me. Thursday morning February 17, 2005, I walked up to the school doors, thinking it was going to be another normal Thursday. I opened the doors, I stopped, froze in my tracks by what I saw. I didn’t really want to go inside, looking at the students inside, grieving and confusion was on their faces, I had no idea what had happened. Some students were sitting on the floor crying, some were running through the hallway screaming with grief, and some were like I was; silence not knowing what had happened. I finally found someone I know and ask them what was going on. “Angie’s dead, Angie’s dead”, she muttered out as she cried. “What are you talking about, it’s not possible, your wrong!” I said confusingly. I kept walking down the hall to see everyone grieving, I tried holding back my tears of confusion and disbelief.
That day was hectic for everyone in the school, nothing was accomplished but grief and suffering. In my first class the intercom came on and Mr. Bredlow the principal came on and announces that Angie had committed suicide, which led to more whaling. I couldn’t talk; I didn’t know what had just happened. Why would she do this, so many people cared about her and loved her so much. Angie impacted the lives of everyone she met, I felt I had known her forever and it had only been a semester.
Death is hard, suicide is so much harder for me because most of the time you’ll never know why they result to suicide. I along with a lot of others love and will always miss Angie, I am stronger to this day because of her. Nothing can be harder to deal with then the death of a loved one. I believe that suffering brings strength, there is always something good that can come out of a situation that causes suffering.
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