This is a little "journal entry" I wrote after my classmate and friend Shaelaine Sothan died.
“She has cancer.”
“HAHA, serves her right. I knew her actions were going to turn around and bite her in the butt.”
That’s what I said when I found out. I feel stupid now. I should have been shocked; I should have been mad; I should have called her or something.
But I didn’t. And now, when I finally realize that she might not be here forever, that all she wants is to be a normal kid again, she’s gone.
Looking back on that day, I just want to kill myself for saying that. After hearing what she told her family about school when she was in the hospital, in so much pain, it makes me feel pathetic, unloving, stupid. She loved us. She wanted to spend every waking moment with us. She was so excited to get to go back to school, to see us, to have a normal life.
And now that’s gone. She’s gone.
I’ll never get to talk to her about it, ask her how she felt, just treat her like a normal person. I can’t believe I was so immature.
All she wanted was to be normal, to graduate, see the Northern Lights, and go to parties, prom, and class trips. But now she can’t, because of cancer.
Why does something so terrible happen to the least deserving people? If anybody should have had to go through the pain, hurt, and shock, it should have been me. I should never have thought the things I did about her. She didn’t deserve that at all. All she wanted was to be accepted for who she was. That’s what I stand for, and yet, I ostracized her. I’m a hypocrite. I should be in pain, not her. I should be missing school, not her. I should be losing my hair, not her. I should be stick thin and have no appetite, not her. I should be dead, not her.
After she died, I didn’t know what to think. I was asked to help go through pictures of her. As I was looking at the pictures, I couldn’t feel any emotion. I was numb.
When I was given a bracelet with her name on it, I didn’t know what to say. I was numb.
When I watched the slide show that I had made, I didn’t know what I was seeing. I was numb.
At her memorial service that my class had planned, I looked at her dad, saw him crying, and was confused. I didn’t realize my feelings until after I was told that she wanted us all to graduate and go to college, be successful and happy, that she really, truly loved us, loved me, one of the people that deserved her love the least.
After that, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. At the visitation, I couldn’t even look at her. It wasn’t her in that box. It was too cold, too lifeless, too boring. She was always so full of life, even after she was diagnosed. You could never tell that she was in pain. She was always constantly smiling, cracking jokes, laughing. She didn’t care.