Dear Death,

I want to start by saying that you made my senior year go to trash. I did not imagine having to experience the conclusiveness of losing my grandma to you. I remember the day as though it was yesterday. The phone call from my mom. The loss of feeling in my whole body as I drove 30 mph over the speed limit to get to Grandma Toni. The site of EMTs. The man with the mustache telling mom that my rock was gone. You had taken her, far too soon, far too abruptly.

You created a hole in my stomach that to this day still wakes me up in the middle of the night, cold sweat on my brow. You are the reason I wasn't myself for a really long time. You not only took my grandma, but you took a piece of me and everyone else who loved her with you. I may never understand why you took her so soon, hell why you always seem to take the good ones before their time. But you did. You wrecked my entire life in one action and destroyed pieces of my life that I will never be able to get back.

Everyone said that God called my grandmother home because her time here was painful and she was better off in her eternal resting place. To that I must disagree. She was loved here beyond measure. She was spunky, she was fun, and quite honestly she was my best friend. Sadly, now all I see is you--a black cloud of hurt, pain, and resentment. I can't look at pictures of her without realizing that you took her. That she isn't a phone call away, she isn't a short drive from home, and she won't be making her appearance at Thanksgiving this year, for the 2nd time. She's with you now and gone from here which sucks more than words.

I ask you to tell her I am going to college at Missouri Western (something no one saw coming), Bammy went to a good home where I know he is loved beyond measure, and I still love her as much as I did the last time I talked to her.

So I hope you're happy for stealing my best friend, for ruining my senior year, and making me realize that you are an inevitable element of life because without that I would be completely naive and not realize that the last thing I say may literally be my last words to my loved ones.

Sincerely,

A living victim