I had the general reasoning of any teenager: run to your closest friends, boyfriend, girlfriend, family, teachers for solutions to your problems, or for guidance, but that’s not always so. Sure, some good friends and family are close enough to relate to, but it’s the people that can read your face like a book that I am speaking of. The people that always bring a smile to your face even when you’re in your deepest turmoil. These are your angels. Adam has been and always will be my angel. He was my salvation when I was weak, my shoulder to weep on, a joker, and an all around nice guy.
If if it weren’t for him I probably wouldn’t have auditioned for Juilliard a few weeks back. I owe so much to him, but the biggest thanks I could ever give would be his persistent manner in getting me to audition for the drama plays. I have always had a passion for drama but didn’t want to pursue it in St. Paul.
I was so depressed about leaving all my friends behind at Whittier, that when I came here I didn’t even give up—- I just didn’t start at all. It wasn’t until my first week of school that I met Adam, the boy who smiled from ear to ear. . .
Little did I know that he would be the best friend I would make at St. Paul, and the first to leave me behind. Over the next two years we had gotten incredibly close. We went out for weekends, celebrated his 15th birthday with Andrea and Crystal, and Miguel—his closest friends. We helped each other with our relationship problems, family problems, school mishaps. .
. We were each other’s alter egos when we went out. We had a conversation over the Internet a week before he died. He was so mad that I hadn’t auditioned for the musical that he forced me to join crew (which a few weeks previous I had).
That night we were talking about all these pranks we would play on the cast and crew, and the cast party to be had, and all the fun. . . He told me about all the traditions that go on backstage and it was “going to be the best time,” he said. He told me that I had to make it up to him, that in our junior year we would both go out for the fall play. He hadn’t told anyone that he wanted to do that.
He really wasn’t sure whether he was going to do drama or football. . . He wanted to do both but it just wasn’t possible.
So I promised to keep him happy. On April 23rd, the night of Sadies, I don’t’ think anyone saw it coming, not even Adam, but it was that night that he was physically gone forever. That week, life as I knew it had ended and I was just lost. It was Adam who re-established my faith and got my agnostic self into church again.
It was Adam who got me to audition for Drama, and yay for me I succeeded in getting lead roles. It was Adam who inspired me Freshmen year to take on the Leadership class, and it was Adam who opened me up and got me to wear colors instead of black all the time. Life was a burnt out candle before Adam stepped into my life, and for the short period that I had him on Earth, life was bright again. I didn’t know how hard it would be without him. I didn’t realize that I had to prepare myself for tragedy. I didn’t know how dark the sunniest April afternoon could be.
How sad a comedy musical could seem. Or how solemn school could sound after he departed for Home. I know that Adam still watches over me each day. In fact, this is the second time I’m writing out this testimony because my original has mysteriously disappeared. .
. There isn’t a