Preface

The boy with the gun pointed in my face appeared to be only 7 years old. I knew of course, that he was actually 11 and a half, but from this angle and the light shining on his face, he appeared to only be 7. I don’t know why he would point that horrific weapon at me. Was it something I said? Something I did to disturb him so? You, the reader, probably want to know how this story began, and why the barrel of a gun is nipping at my nose. Well, to understand the beginning, first we must go to the end, where you will meet someone who was there before you started and gone when you began.
***

The sun shone bright on that day of mourning, as if it had misplaced or didn’t even bother to read the memo sent out the week before. The grass was also especially green. Why was that? How the most beautiful days end up being so horrible. I scanned the small crowd of people; all wearing different shades of black and grey, and saw whom I was searching for, a girl a little older than me, probably around the age of 6. She was sitting with her mother, and twirling her long brown hair with her small fingers. Her hair was really long; it had always been, as long as I could remember. It sort of hung there, lifelessly around her waist. I don’t know why she never wanted to cut it, probably because if she cut it, it would be like cutting off the one thing that reminded her of why she had grown it out in the first place. That doesn’t really make sense, but it does in a way too.
I will ever forget him, the one who was lying in the earth a few paces away from my seat. He was courageous, and smart, and brave, and everything that I wanted to be. I only wonder why he could just leave so quickly. It was I was shown that great red bike in the window of the new toy store. Someone showed me the bike, maybe let me ride it for a few minutes, and then snatched it away again. Leaving me wondering if I had even ever saw the bike in the first place. Had I just ridden it, or was it simply a dream, a wish that my small heart made in a deep sleep. Was he even there at all? On that one night that changed everything, or was he simply a dream, a wish that my small heart made when I was in trouble. Well, here we are, on this day that smells of clover and pedals, to cherish the one who have had to be there that day. I mean, he is gone, but I am here, which could only have happened if he had been there.
I stare at the girl again. Her black ribbons in her hair seemed to make it seem even longer than it really was. Yes, she was here, and so was I, but only because of him. Yes him, the one in the ground at my feet, one who had given up everything for two simple children. Are we really simple? Children that is. We are small, that is true, but I guess that we can grow to be extraordinary. That was why he did what he did. That is why he is in the ground. I don’t know where he went, but he went there so that I, we could be extraordinary. That is what I plan to do, you know. Be the most amazing extraordinary person I can be, for him, for the girl, maybe even for myself. Then, when I am done being extraordinary, I will find him. I will tell him thank you. I will tell him that I have succeeded and that it was worth being in the ground for the lives I have changed, the hearts, I have touched, and the extraordinary person that I became. Yes, that is what I will do.