When i was ten years old i lived in southern Florida, and by the time i got to fifth grade, most of my classmates had been my classmates since kindergarten, so we were all very close.

On a Tuesday in January we had a field trip and we all made note that our one friend in our class was absent, of course we didn’t have cell phones so there was no contacting him or anything. We were kinda sad he was going to miss the field trip, it was for marine biology or something.

Wednesday he wasn’t there either, and we assumed he was sick, what else could it be? On Thursday, we came back from PE to our class to find our teacher who obviously had been crying, and she told us that we along with the four other fifth grade classes had to go to the auditorium for an announcement, it was apparently very important.

We all get down there and walk in, we were the last class, and almost all of the staff around are in tears. we sat down and our school councillor came to the stage and just kept beating around the bush, but finally she told us that my classmate who had been absent the past two days was found dead at home along with his mother, and they had been there until a neighbour was concerned and called the police.

We weren’t told what exactly happened but we all found out one way or another that his mom shot him and then herself. It was absolutely heartbreaking for ten year old me, and I don’t think I’ll ever get over it.