• David was flying through the air.
    "Oh, God, I can't wait!" He'd said thirty minutes before, and now he was parachuting out of a plane. When he came to a gentle halt on the grass, he looked winded.
    "How was it?" I said, watching as he unstrapped himself.
    "It was amazing." He replied, and shot me a smile.

    The air in the room was stagnant. The cold tile I slammed against when my knees gave out was wrought with pain, and for a moment I thought I was floating. I looked at the clock.
    Time of death? Six forty-eight P.M.
    I looked over at his bed. He was sleeping, wasn't he? He was sleeping at six forty-seven. The monitor showed it's disapproval by shoving out a monotone, single, long beep. I whispered his name, I didn't want to wake him up. "David?"
    My mom was yelling his name. Lauren and Dad. All of them shaking him. The doctors were pulling us back. I couldn't breathe, or cry, or yell, or talk. My mind was as numb and senseless as my body. I looked up to see Lauren throw herself over him.
    Poor Lauren, I thought. Lauren and David were meant for each other. It was as if, at birth, they were destined to find each other. He towered over her, and she didn't mind.
    I finally looked at my older brother. My nineteen year old role model was laying in his bed. Dead.
    Was he cold yet? I reached out and touched his arm. Still warm. The touch sent a wave through my body.
    The spell was broken. My chest lunged and heaved, and at first nothing came out. Then I could hear myself cry out for him again.
    "David?! David!?" He didn't tell us this would happen. It had to be the Doctor's fault. How could cancer win against David? They let my brother die. He was a fighter. We was a liver. He was walking around when he had a cancerous mass wrapped around is torso.
    He's David.
    Smoking, drinking, loving, David.

    Dawn came late. It felt like the sun rose off schedule. Had it been mourning?
    The birds didn't sing. I don't blame them though, I didn't feel like singing. We left the hospital, and my mom called to make funeral arrangements. We let balloons go on the day of his funeral. The rain tried to keep the balloons down, but they made it to him. He loved the color red, and I knew he'd appreciate the gifts.
    Don't angels get their wings when you do that? I'm sure he got his.

    I went back to school a few days later.
    People heard. People told people and it spread like butter. I couldn't go a passing period without people's grief. From people who didn't know him.
    But I surprised them.
    I smiled.
    "He's happy now." I told them. "He's not suffering anymore. He has a family that loves him, and he'll wait for us."

    can't remember the last time I walked into his room and smiled. Or looked at one of his pictures and not feel an ache in my stomach. I can't not fear moving on without him. Afraid I'll forget him if the world keeps turning and he's not here to spin. But David was my hero, and he was strong. He still holds up my family, he's still our pillar.

    I love you David. We all love you.