This book was created and published on StoryJumper™

©2014 StoryJumper, Inc.   All rights reserved.

Publish your own children's book: 

www.storyjumper.com

On my 15th birthday to celebrate 

I had a party at my house with all 

my friends. Later that night 

though, my parents left the house 

to go visit my aunt, and wouldn't 

be back for at least 4 hours. After 

this things took a turn for the 

worst. One of my newer friends, 

Will, gave me some weird 

substance for me to smoke. 

Trying to keep the party going I 

smoking it not knowing it was a 

form of cocaine known as crack. 

What happened next surprised 

everyone at the party, within 

minutes of trying to drug, I died 

instantly. About an hour later I 

was pronounced officially dead at 

a nearby hospital. Will on the 

other hand, was taken into 

custody and was most likely later 

charged for possession of an illicit 

drug. My parents didn't reach the 

hospital until long after everything 

happened, so they never got to 

see me again, dead or alive.

After my death my family went into a severe stage of depression. My mom no longer 

got out bed, and had no will to clean our house, knowing that she would find my old 

things. She didn't want to remember all the amazing memories I left, because she 

didn't want to really accept my death. My dad on the other hand, threw himself into 

his work and slowly started staying so late that he wouldn't even come home. This 

left my sister, Vimarie, with no real parents or guidance as she entered her teens. 

This brought on Vimarie having depression and low self esteem because nobody was 

there for her.

After my death my friendships started falling apart. Some of them blamed Will, 

and sadly enough a good half of them blamed me. They even blamed me for the 

feeling of loss I left them with. At my funeral a fight broke out between the two 

groups, which resulted in the flowers on my coffin being burned. Each friend of 

mine coped with the pain, this pain led to depression is some, and anger is 

others.

In school, people stared at my empty 

desk. Some barely knew me, but still 

felt that ripping feeling in their chest 

when they thought about what 

happened. One class in particular felt 

the worst pain. It was my Core 21 

class. This is because the people I 

used to sit with would always joke 

with me about dying, saying that none 

of would actually not live til 20. Now 

they sit there are realize how wrong 

they were. If only they could talk to 

me once again and tell me how wrong 

they really were.

Overall after my death the town of 

New Fairfield felt just sad. They 

never expected something big like 

this to happen in such a small town. 

Some even couldn't believe that 

drugs were in possessed in such a  

small town. Something good did 

come out of this though. Now the 

schools had more security, and 

most of the drug addicts were 

eliminated from the system.

You've previewed 10 of 16 pages.

To read more: