Death

Jeanne, 16, USA

Sean S. died in November 1995, days after his 15th birthday. I found out on the way to school, and couldn't believe it was true. Dear sweet Sean, the first kid I ever knew who died.

As we arrived, it was clear that the ugly rumor was true. Everyone was quiet, no one was playing basketball, and guys and girls alike were crying. The adults who didn't know said it was his fault, he shouldn't have been riding on the back of that three-wheeler on the road at night, but every child knew that Sean could do no wrong.

Sean's last words reflected how he was, and what he believed every day of his life. While in a helicoter, in terrible pain, knowing he didn't have much of a chance, he said, "Tell everyone not to worry and that I love them, tell them it's better off this way, and tell my sister and brothers that I'll be watching out for them." And, just like on the movies, he took one last breath, and lost consciousness.

Sean, to adults, was known as a bad boy. He wasn't very good in school, he would be the first to fight for a friend, and he would do anything for a laugh. Most of all, he protected his little sister, when she got raped, when she got pregnant, and when she was in the hospital. With Sean's unique way of convincing, no one picked on Jennie. He had no ounce of bad in him, though. If he would be here today, he would tell everyone to love, and to try not to have any regrets. He didn't.

The afternoon after everyone found out, Sean was buried. To go to the funeral, you needed a note from your parents, a note from the person you were riding with, and special permission. With all of those rules, every person I knew was at the funeral. School was empty. At that funeral, the rest of the school and I buried a piece of ourselves, of our youth.