Then it hit me hard. I remember the good times you had with all the people you cared about. Selling slutty brownies, smiling every morning, making comments with retort about the teachers and school work (which always made people laugh), college trips, befriending everyone, integrating a second family called AVID, and all of which shined your future.
My memories flashback to me on the day I last saw you and the last time I heard you spoke. "Awww, Erica! You beat me on Trivia Crack. Rematch!" as you said while hanging out in Dr. Preston's class. I'm glad I could say 'Thank You' one last time during Mr. Nesper's Test Corrections session, even if it was a request for a book. I'll keep that true to my heart. I'm also glad I had a tiny crush on you in sophomore year, but what's not to like about you. Four years that I've known you were the best of times.
We also won't ever ever ever forget the whole Senior class (during the taking of the class picture of 2015) cheer you on when you ran to take the picture with us.
Bree, hear us out. I know you wouldn't leave your comrades and family behind. We won't ever forget your wondrous voice and gracious smiles. There are things you still have to do and you carried over that mission onto us. We're going to represent you by wearing your favorite Rasta colors. Our AVID class is going to be heart wrecked when we start and finish that university banner we were supposed to do. We're going to design your banner, finish your masterpiece, graduate with us, come to the AVID Senior Party, and stay by your family always. You're a memoir to us in our hearts. You inscribed all the joyful and positive vibes in our mind and soul.
Breanna Rodriguez, rest in paradise and make that paradise an ever growing one.
"Personality is the most beautiful thing"
That was great Jayce, thank you for helping me remember the good times with Bree
ReplyDeleteI'm glad you think so Liz. Remembering these memories makes you feel like reliving them. We all had the best time to do these things with Bree. Irreplaceable.
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