I remember thinking how adorable you were with your small petite stature and big smile. Your voice was soft and girly, and you had a slight lisp that made you sound like an innocent little girl when you spoke. Your blonde, wavy hair flowed at your shoulders and slightly bounced when you walked. You were happy and beautiful in all the ways that mattered.
You were exactly like me. Happy, kind, fun, silly, sweet, you even loved kids. You were genuinely nice to everyone, even me who was a complete stranger. One night together was all we had. We laughed, and danced, and took pictures until our phones died. We breathed the same, went to the same school, had the same friends. The only difference is that I am still here and you are not.
Why? Why is it that someone like you, like me, had to die? Someone so young, so beautiful, so kind to the people around her, someone so innocent… The thought of it scares me because your death only actualizes the fact that it could have easily been me. It can be me. It will be me, someday. The fear resonates deep within my soul every minute I get a spare moment alone in my thoughts.
You did not expect your life to come to an end that night you were on a boat with your parents. You didn't expect your world to come crashing down in a moment of comfort and solace. Your parents didn't expect to lose both of their daughters, and your friends did not expect to lose their supposed lifelong friend. You had plans of growing old, going to school in the fall, possibly even partying with friends that weekend.
Did you know that you were going to die at 20-years-old? Was there something in the back of your mind, whispering to you the tales of your demise? Did you dream about it, receive an inconspicuous image from God? I would like to believe all of these things happened. Believe that death isn't just random and unexpected. It would comfort me to think that you received a warning or some kind of sign to prepare you for your terrible end because if you did, then maybe I will too.
Your life meant even more to me after your death. You remind me every day to live life like it's my last, because one day, inevitably, it will be.
RIH
Sincerely,
Anijah White