• Max Fisher


In the course of my life, I have faced many challenges that have transported me from the realm of adolescence to “real life” in a sense. In particular, one event in my life seems to stand out, and that would be the passing of my close childhood friend to illness. This loss of life seemed to be colder than the winter that year, as that was a record year for snow (67.8 inches total). The only reason I have knowledge of this odd information is due to the fact that I remember everything after her passing without the dream-like lightness, and vivid representation of colors that used to be omnipresent in my thoughts and dreams prior. From there on, everything seemed to just be gray for the following year, and that would go on to be one of most unflattering years to reflect on of my newly formed but quickly changing life. Her name was Angela, and I had known her since birth. Not only was she like another big sister to me, she was also a role model of who to be even though she was only a year older than myself. Reflecting on it now, she seemed to already have “grown up” when I knew her. “How ironic?”, I constantly ask myself. This figure in my life seeming to be unaffected by anything at the time has an even bigger effect on the small life of someone like me not through her presence, but by the absence of her. It seems customary for people to know exactly what they were doing when they caught wind of an event like this. I am not an exception. This sunny Sunday in the early weeks of August did not feel any different than the imagined life of a reckless eight year-old. Wake-up, eat, play, nap and play, seemed to be the normal routine for that summer. That day was no different as I went outside to finish playing tag with my brother and I was stopped by my mother. There is where I heard the news. Oddly enough, I know exactly where I was sitting when I received this speech-abandoning confrontation. I know exactly what I did, what I was wearing, what chair I was in, what the color of the chair was, and who was in the room with me as well. I wasn’t the only one in my family to receive this news at this time.Once hearing the news as well, my brother and sister moved on in their lives as one usually would with loss, as there is no real cure to the pain felt by abandonment. I was much different as I silently cradled my legs to my chest sitting, and staring at a wall. I must have sat in this position for a while, as the light started fading, and the sky turned from blue to pink, gold, and finally a dark crimson that day. Reflecting on this moment, it brings me pain to realize that I had experienced one of the most beautiful sunsets that day, but I cannot see the colors of it anymore. All I see from that day is gray. The red chair I sat in, seems to be gray now. My teal walls, all are gray now. My navy striped shirt, now is only gray. Just like the colors faded from that depressed day, all the colors seemed to fade from my life, turning my whimsical innocence and youth into colorless and stone-cold age.

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