Although I am writing about you, I should not be writing about you. 

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When the sky looks different, I think I am happy. I was happy… I knew everyone would stay. But not everyone stayed... This time got cut, cut into millions of fragments--pieces. Pieces that were flung back and ricocheted into my heart. The shards scatter and sink deep -- deep past Branson, past our hearts, and into the rich, unreachable, layered soil, where they will stay. Stay forever. 

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His long dangling arms swooped in, held, and surrounded our little world. Our community was suddenly warm and his charisma enveloped our hearts. But a hug, a daily hug was our thing. 

I wasn’t the only one. With that million dollar smile, he introduced us all to a better, brighter world, a new mindset. His magical laugh and radiant smile reflected his undying dedication to the choices he made. He embodied an angel, flying across each wooden gym floor and into the air, holding, gripping his world between his hands, shooting the black-lined orange ball with grace and ease.

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    Monday, June 10th, 2019: I awoke to the feeling of throbbing pain rising up in my throat. Losing breath, my airway was blocked with sharp discomfort. I bolted to my desk and chugged the water. Down. Down. The cold water slipped down my throat, enveloping the pain, easing the heaviness. Washing the damage away. The damage, however, never abated. This damage pierced, stained, and remained. The last day of junior year, our graduation on a peaceful morning was the last day I saw one of my best friends. Where he gave me his last hug. The last hug I was able to receive. 

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August 27th, 2019: The first day of senior year. Blank faces filled the atmosphere, avoiding the conversation, hiding the crushing destruction with forced smiles, laughs and welcome backs. Looking up at the sky, I searched for the right answer, for an explanation, for that beautiful smile, reliving that last hug I received. Where is he? And with a slight slip of a word, a razor-edged reminder, clouds of puzzlement evaporated. The sky dripped purple darkness onto the earth below, and diluted my soul. Expressed through the tears that dripped from my green eyes, these feelings shattered me, my heart, and my memories. My clear glass view turns, turns into a blanket of expressionless fog. My heart has cracked; no longer mended, these pieces have begun to rip off and crumble through this deep soil. I now have a habit of pushing, forcing this achiness deep down into my body. Trying to smile, I fold away this insatiable, stinging pain beneath and under my soul and core. 

I find myself spiraling, sinking. Nature and trees felt alive around me, until trees decayed, bark ripped off the scattered treelike edges, splitting into two ragged pieces that now fall to the ground and diminish into dust. The world scattered without him. He represented Branson, our little community, and held a place in everyone’s hearts. The ultimate manifestation of his soul, remained lost beneath this soil. But never forgotten. It’s impossible to forget him and that smile. When hearing that name, his name, and feeling his presence through words, he and his soil begin to feel unapologetically real. Painfully real. 

 The shift was monumental. Detrimental. He was the connection, the glue that could mend the pieces, the pieces of all of us together. He hooked us all in with his lengthy arms, and kept us hopeful, positive, and powerful. His enigmatic, unparalleled spirit and energy lit the match that sparked all of our flames. Now our once reality, morphs into an everlasting memory. We live, and live, and live through the ability to remember him, trying to recreate this reality that once was. 

Although released, his presence still moves through the trees, tearing every leaf off in sight. It seeps through the ground until it encloses you and anyone nearby into normalization. I began to learn in time to normalize this true, unspeakable sadness. Until it leaves a permanent look of emotionless feeling that covers my face, and it hides, it overshadows the mask of paralyzed sadness and fear. And this fear. This fear, now something more prevalent, reveals one day some might not stay, including myself. This rampant animal that constantly tugs on lifelines of those I love. 

My focus constantly escapes from my cluttered, confused mind. It hits me, hits like a wrecking ball crashing into that clear glass view. Suddenly any room can become fuzzy, and colors can start to collide and become a blur. Stained black dots could appear. Water drops could fall down my face. My world breaks without you. My world is different without you. But only then did I feel the pain of recognizing that nothing would change. Still waiting for you to come to school again from your never ending basketball tournament. 

This dream, this long, endless dream shatters my empty heart, shatters all of our hearts. Tears could fall slowly over and over again. But his devoted loyalty and effervescent spirit will help us to reweave the severed ties of this community. We search for that missing being in our lives. His soul, however, remains a part of us, lies within us. That unforgettable, courageous presence hooks deep into our hearts, leaving his legacy of selflessness within us. We constantly remind ourselves: support each other, love each other, support each other, love each other.

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As I wake up again, another morning, I look up to the sky, to him, just hoping he will one day fly back towards home. The sky looks different, feels different. Sometimes you will never know the value of a single moment, until it transforms into a memory. 

This piece is dedicated to Kwentyn Wiggins, my hero. Rest in peace.