Remembering my Sunshine.
She's been gone but never forgotten for 30 years.
I’ll never forget where I was on January 16, 1996, when I got the worst call of my life. I was at home, watching the news on TV, which was in the basement of the house that we had lived in at the time. After school, I would watch the news, then work on my homework. There was a story on that day that was disturbing. A teenage girl had been shot and killed, wrapped up in a blanket, and dumped in the woods.
After that news story had finished, the phone rang. I answered it. It was one of my friends who rarely ever called me. So, something was wrong if she was calling me. She asked me if I had watched the news. I told her, yes. She asked me if I had seen the story about the dead girl. I said, yes. She then took a very deep breath and let out a huge sigh. She confirmed it was my best friend.
I dropped the phone. It was a cordless phone, so it fell onto the floor. I just stared at the TV, in disbelief. I let out a half-scream, half-cry. There was no way that was my best friend. It couldn’t have been her. I had just seen her a few hours ago at the end of the school day! She couldn’t be dead!
Unfortunately, it was true. My best friend, who was like a sister to me, had been murdered. This is when I first experienced depression. I was never the same after her murder. When she died, a piece of me definitely died with her. 1996 was the year from hell for me. It began with my best friend’s murder and ended with me becoming a victim of a heinous crime.
She was my sunshine. And I was the sunflower that basked in her beautiful light. Her light was cruelly extinguished far too early. I still feel the pain just as deeply as I did 30 years ago. I often wonder what could have been. I like to think that she’s a part of the sun, watching over me and keeping the light for me.
I love you, Sunshine. I will never let you be forgotten.
Melodía