“Riley, you’re being dismissed.” Oh no, oh no, no, no, no, no, no, no. I grabbed my study guide, and my stuff and rushed out of the room. It was second period, of Tuesday, January 22nd. I was sitting in algebra class when the call came in. I rushed to my locker, and quickly grabbed all my stuff. As soon as I got to the office, and I saw my Dad’s red eyes. I already knew. He looked me in the eyes.

“Melissa, she died.” His words got caught in his throat and were choked out. I gave him a side hug really quickly, before walking out with him. The whole ride to the hospital was quiet. Walking in I was dead silent too. Before I left the house for school this morning, my mom mentioned she wasn’t doing well, but I didn’t know things could go from not well, to excuse my French, but absolute s***.  I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want to believe this. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Bailey, my sister, was sitting on the ground in the hallway, eyes bright red, with a water cup on the ground, and tissues surrounding her. I sat down next to her, and held onto her tight. I didn’t believe it. My dad went into the hospital room, and grabbed my mom to talk to me.

“You can go see her if you want,” Said my mom as she hugged me tight.

“I don’t want to,” I choked out.

I sat back down on the ground, hugging my sister. After a few minutes, I gathered my courage and went into the hospital room. My aunt, a kind, young, playful soul. She has handicapped mentally and physically, but she was still one of the most caring people I knew. She laid there, motionless. People always said death was peaceful. This was the exact opposite of that. She laid there, crudely and unnaturally. I didn’t need to look at her another second. The truth had hit me like a truck. I walked out of the room, holding back an ocean of tears. My mom looked at me, gave me a hug, and spoke four light words.

After that, we stayed there for about another 30 minutes. I just wanted to go home and lay in bed and drown in my tears, which by now I thought was possible. As soon as my family and I walked into the house, we saw all her things sitting on the couch waiting for her return, which was never going to happen now. I felt a sickening bile rise into my throat. My heart squeezed together and I felt the air escape my lungs. I ran upstairs, not even waiting for anyone else. I slammed my door with all the anger in my bones. Why her? Why now? She didn’t deserve to die. She was healthy. She was living. I fell asleep crying that afternoon.

When I woke up, I wasn’t sure if the morning had happened or not. I slowly opened my eyes, and immediately knew the morning to be true because my eyes were completely swollen. I walked into the bathroom to see how bad I looked. With my reflection staring straight back at me, I knew this was the reality I had to face now. January 22nd, of 2019, was the day Melissa Ricker passed away of pneumonia. The liquid in her lungs had became to much for her tiny body. Her heart gave out that horrible Tuesday morning. She left too many people to count mourning her. My family all think she knew she was going to pass. She asked my mom to get her coffee before she did. When my mom went back into the room, she had already passed. As my mom, my sister, and I were leaving the hospital, we ran into a therapy dog. We sat down and pat the dog for a while. It was Meme’s way of telling us it was going to be okay. I think it’ll be okay, eventually. Eventually.