arqueete | It'll be a day like this one when the world caves in

We were in play practice today when we heard what sounded like planes flying overhead, which I'd never heard at school before and the thought passed through my head that it seemed kind of funny, since so often in this play, without tech yet, we have to pretend we're hearing the sounds of planes and bombers.

As we stood at the piano, all of us vaguely joining in on the song being sung, our characters taking a moment to think back to happier times, I could see commotion offstage and I glanced to the center of the auditorium and our director was no longer there.

shelbaquerkey came over and told us to stop, followed by the curriculum coordinator or whatever coming over to tell us that a classmate of ours had just passed away in a car crash and we ought to end rehearsal. The "planes" we'd heard earlier were probably helicopters. His brother had been in the car and was brought to a hospital by flight for life, he's expected to survive.

I didn't know Justin personally, I don't think we'd ever really had a conversation. But as soon as she said his name I could see him in my head -- this wasn't like Clint, who I'd heard about on announcements and vaguely knew of, or even like Michael who I'd met once or twice and already knew he didn't have much longer. This was someone in my class, someone who was probably in classes with me through the years and I never thought anything of it. This was someone whose face I could see right then.

A brother of my sister's friend said he saw him -- he saw him die.

Fuck.