It was May. Not any ordinary day in May, but May 16, 2002. This fateful day will echo for eternity in my soul. It was a horrible day, perhaps the worst of my life.

The abrupt ringing of the telephone broke the silence of my usually quiet Home Economics class. Mrs. Rogers answered, then announced in a subdued sort of way, "Justin, they need you in the North Office."

As these simple words left her mouth, a pounding of emotion washed over me like a tidal wave. Intoxicated by these words, I stood. Standing was never so hard in my life. Finally achieving a full upright position, I stumbled to the door. Confused as to why they would need me in the office brought an ominous burden that pulled me deep into denial that had come to me from Mrs. Rogers' fateful command.

In the hallway possible reasons flowed in and out of my head. One thought recurred over and over, even though I hated the idea. Swimming in my brain, it began to drive me mad. All I could think was, This is not it, this is not it. I was walking to my worst nightmare. With my palms drenched with sweat and pulse racing, I lumbered down the hallway to the office. Nothing in my entire life could have prepared me for what was to come.

Reaching the office I placed a quivering hand on the doorknob. I opened the door to my fate. More scared than ever, I saw my mother and two close family friends standing there. My mother looked like she had seen a ghost, which was not very far from the truth. She was definitely scared - more scared than I was. Her words were shaky but confirmed my worst nightmare.

"Justin ... your father is ... dead." These bitter, cutting words reduced me to a helpless being. In a desperate attempt my body covered me in a sea of shock that only allowed dry tears of deep sorrow. As I fell into my mother's arms, the only word I could say was "No-no-no ..." over and over again. Although surrounded by loving people, I felt alone. In fact, the most alone I have ever felt in my entire life.