It was supposed to be fun.
New school, new supplies,
Thin, neon highlighters glowing inside
Vera Bradley backpacks.
Skinny folders assigned to
Pointless subjects,
Which would be fattened
With pointless homework
By the end of the day.
It was supposed to be fun,
And for a little while, I forgot.
I forgot until History.
The new teacher hadn't lived here
Longer than a week,
Which was why he was
Excited
About teaching.
He had on a brand new tie
From Banana Republic
Which was obviously tied
By his wide eyed fiance.
His classroom was bare, as he explained,
"Don't worry,
I ordered posters yesterday."
The teacher wasn't the problem.
The problem was,
Between Richardson
And Roberts,
He still existed.
At least in the school system he did.
"Ashley Paulette?"
"-Here."
"Abby Richardson?"
"-Here."
"Bennett Rill?"
And my life shattered all over again.
The silence felt
Deafening.
Remembering how he wouldn't be there.
Not ever.
"Bennett Rill?"
The teacher was confused, looking around the room
For someone
Who was buried six feet under.
Someone who the teacher might've thought
Was sick, or vacationing.
It was supposed to be fun.
But then I remembered
One of my really good friends, Bennett, died on the last day of school last year. There are more poems about him on my page.