Read the full story, chapter by chapter here.
Some names and events have been changed to protect the identity of certain individuals.
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Chapter Twenty-Four
Reminders
By the time I left seminary that morning, more details had been given, but not enough to identify the victims in the accident. The student that was killed was a girl, my age, my school and she had an older brother who was severely injured. I was torn between panic and denial. Immediately thinking of Megaera who had an older brother and lived close enough to the area that that the location of the accident would be one of few paths to get to her home.
I was also feeling denial. I kept thinking that I would get to school and it would turn out to be someone who had just moved to town. No one would know them, and while the situation was still sad, the day would continue nearly unaffected.
I was wrong.
I stepped one foot off the bus and instantly the wave of reality hit me. People I knew were crying. I immediately wished that Matt was there with me, but he had stayed home sick that day. I was alone to wonder which of my friends had been killed the night before.
I glanced over the school grounds in confused grief. I watched in the corner of the parking lot as three girls I knew collapsed, clinging to one another for support. I saw in horror from a far as one friend told another the news, and an emotional fist went through a glass door. Teachers moved across the campus in sporadic panic, trying to help those who seemed the most needing. Security prevented angry fights started by emptiness and grief.
Tears soaked my High School.
Everyone was affected. Not a single person laughed, smiled or appeared hopeful.
I ran as fast as I could to my homeroom building where my friends and I usually met before the first bell rang. I looked for Megaera first and when I saw her I felt instant relief followed by more panic. There they were, a puddle of emotions. I mentally counted them, trying to see who was missing. I'd never seen them like this. I'd never seen pain like this. I was confused and angry all at once. One of them looked up at me and said one word:
"Karen."
Karen. Everyone knew the name. While I was not as close to her as most of my friends were, I knew her. I spoke with her, and in one of my darkest hours in Freshman year, it was Karen, who at the time was a stranger to me, who lifted me up and made me smile.
Overwhelmed by my own sadness and flooded with the grief of my friends, I heard words like, "Does so and so know? Where is he? Do you think she's been told? We have to find them before they do something stupid." Concerns for those who were closest to her. I immediately thought to call Matt.
"Hello?"
"Matt . . . ." I paused, holding the phone in the art room.
"Did you know Karen Ferreira?"
"What do you mean did
I know her?!"
More than one hundred students went home early from school that day only to return later for the candelit memorial held in Karen's honor that night surrounding the flag pole in the center of the school. As a collective, we fell to pieces. Four camera men were injured as they invaded our privacy. At least one was chased off campus, and I heard a camera was thrown down a flight of stairs. Many wanted their grief not to be for the media to play off of.
The newspaper article described the scene as smelling of perfume and cigarettes, and it certainly was. In the distance, we could hear cheers being shouted and music being played across the parking lot at the game that for some reason wasn't canceled in light of the days events. It fueled the angry fire.
The student council arrived and began singing
Amazing Grace. Those who knew Karen laughed and began singing
Nothing Else Matters by Metallica . . . eventually overpowering the gathering as over fifty other students joined in.
In the crowd of people watching candle wax melt onto the grass, fire blurred by a constant stream of confused tears, I found Megaera. Once best friends, closer than sisters, we now stood as strangers. But we turned and embraced one another tightly. A camera man caught the footage of our reunion, eager to twist the image into something for the eyes of the media. He left with death threats from three fifteen year old boys who towered over him.
I left Megaera to the rest of Karen's friends who knew her best. I was sad for them all. I hadn't been very close to her. But their pain was so severe and I knew that I needed to be there. I needed to help in any way that I could.
In the corner of the courtyard two boys broke out in a fight. At the opposite end, three cheerleaders, who were eager to celebrate the recent game, were attacked for crossing into what was now sacred territory. Overwhelmed by the anger around me, I sought out my new friends from Church. We joined hands, and we prayed. Prayed for the mourning family, the grief stricken friends, and the angry mob. We prayed that in the wake of this tragedy, our fellow students wouldn't drink and drive home.
Death seemed to follow me every where I went. Happiness was but a passing moment in between destruction. It was overwhelming, and I was drowning in it.
Despite leaving a large impact on the rest of our class forever, the days following Karen's death still continued. The sun still rose and set each night, no matter how many people wished it otherwise. We had to keep living.
Winter Ball came and went, and Matt took both Kristine and I as his dates. Despite the anger that still plagued many of my friends, for one night, it was good to see them all smile.
On Valentine's Day morning, Matt arrived at my door with chocolates and presents for me, even bringing a box of sweets for my sister.
In addition to holidays, dances and everyday life, Matt had a role in the upcoming spring musical, and I was an assistant stage manager.
There was too much going on. We couldn't just sit and be stricken with grief.
But grief was taking control whether we had time for it or not. Pressure was building and it caused emotional outbursts and deep strains on our relationship. We fought constantly. Constantly over ridiculous things. A tone of voice. A wrong word spoken. And certainly speaking without thinking. We were forgetting that we were teenagers and instead were turning ourselves into feuding adults.
Lucky for us, a reminder was just around the corner.
We gathered together as a family, Matt's family that is, and drove to the
Albuquerque Temple which was having an open house. The Temple, freshly built was going to be
dedicated in March and there was an open house for the weeks leading up to the dedication allowing the public the view the beauty of the inside of the house of the Lord.
I was so excited. Still on a baptism high, I was more than eager to see the temple, especially since this was where I was planning to eventually get married.
We slipped on covers for our shoes in order to keep the carpets of the temple clean and beautiful. There were so many people. We lined up as a tour guide lead us through the temple, showing us each room individually, telling a little about it. There were beautiful paintings of Jesus everywhere, and everything was white and gold. There couldn't be anything more beautiful, any place more peaceful.
We were lead into a
small room with a beautiful altar in the center and mirrors on either side. It was small, but so beautiful, like everything else we had already seen. We formed into a tighter line in order to move through quickly and efficiently. Matt stepped first, followed by both of his parents and I brought up the rear. As Matt and I moved on either side of the sacred altar, the tour guide explained that this was where couples came to be married for time and all eternity.
I looked across the altar and smiled at him.
For information on LDS Temples, please feel free to visit this website.
