by, 04-03-2012 at 11:05 PM (1273 Views)
One of my former students-he graduated last year-was shot and killed last night around 10 o'clock.
He had just finished playing a game of basketball and was sitting in a car on a dark street, with his cousin. They were waiting for his cousin's ride when another car drove up. It was someone they knew and they argued over a girl his cousin had been seeing. The young man in the car pulled out a gun and shot them. Victor was shot two times in the back. He was treated at a nearby hospital, but he died. His cousin, who survived, is in critical condition.
Why did they argue? Why did that person, that unknown quantity, think it was a good idea to pull out a gun and use it? He changed his life as irrevocably as he changed Victor's.
What I do know is that I wish Victor was still here on planet earth tonight, doing whatever it is nineteen year old boys do. Scrapping and yelling and mixing it up.
But not dying.
He had been annoying in class-he was far more interested in socializing than in reading MacBeth or writing essays, go figure-but we both survived. He came back to see me last fall and we had a good talk. He was working at a restaurant, and was planning to go community college this year. In December some co-workers and I went out to dinner-and there he was, all grown up and responsible. He was our server. He sent us a complimentary appetizer and was so very attentive.
Today, when my class let out, and my current annoying student was leaving, he said, "Hit me up, Miss. Hit me up with a lollipop. I know you got some." I rummaged around in my desk drawer, but couldn't find any. I did find a bottle of vitamin water. "Here, D, take this," I said. "Are you sure, Miss?" he asked. "Yeah," I said. "Do you know why I want you to have this?" I asked. "No, why?"
"Because you're alive."
Recquiscat in pacem, Victor. We love you.