"I'm so sorry."
"Oh, don't worry about it!" Her smile was bright. She cocked her head to one side. "I don't think I've met you before. What grade are you in?"
"6th."
"Oh, okay! I'm in 7th." She stuck her hand out. "I'm Alyssa. It's good to meet you. What's your name?"
"I'm Anna."
"Cool. I'm really glad you're here. Do you have a place to sit?" I nodded numbly and indicated toward a table where a couple of the girls I knew were sitting. "Oh, awesome! I think we're gonna start, so I'll talk to you later!" And then she bounced away. I relaxed a little. She was kind.
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I was in 7th grade and struggling with anxiety. When I started shaking in the middle of math class, my teacher send me to the nurse and I sat rigid in my chair, gnawing on the straw of a juice box. The nurse asked me the basic questions and I mumbled answers, wishing for my mom, disappearing further and further into my chair. I jumped when I heard my name exclaimed.
"Hey, girl!" I jerked my head around to see Alyssa standing there. "You okay?" I nodded.
"I just don't feel good." She gave me a sympathetic smile. I took a deep breath and asked, "what are you doing in here?"
"Oh, I'm going home." I don't remember her reason. I do remember that I got up and walked out of the office with her, and right there, in the middle of the hallway, Alyssa put her hand on my shoulder and prayed for me. Gave me a hug and told me she'd see me tomorrow. And walked out the doors. I stood there for a second trying to understand what had just happened. Let out a sort of half laugh. Then I went back to class. I didn't shake for the rest of the week. She was compassionate.
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I was in 8th grade and she was at the high school. We had started messaging on Facebook and she asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I told her I wanted to go to Africa and work with kids, and she told me to always seek the Lord's will in everything I did, and encouraged me to pursue my dream. I asked her what she wanted to be, and she told me maybe a nurse or something. And then she said, "and after my life is over and I get to Heaven, I'm going to run up to Jesus and give Him a huge hug. And He'll probably fall over." I laughed at my friend's eagerness to meet her Lord and wondered if I would have the same desire someday. I didn't know Him then. Later that summer, I went on a mission's trip to Chicago and met Jesus all over again. She rejoiced with me. She was real.
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I was in 9th grade and struggling to adjust to the high school, struggling with grades, struggling with myself, struggling with food, struggling with God, struggling with my life in general. Alyssa was aware and had been praying for me for sometime. She had texted me that morning and told me she was going to Caribou before school and asked me if I wanted anything. I said no. I sat in class and tried to understand triangles and how to find x and the Pythagorean theorem, and then the door opened, and I jumped as a familiar voice exclaimed, "is Anna Bode in here?!" I groaned as the class laughed, and got up to hug her as she set a hot chocolate on my desk. She made a joke about how unbearable math class was and how I would need a pick-me-up. I called her a dork. She just grinned and told me to have a nice day and went out the door, talking loudly with her friend as their voices disappeared down the hallway. My teacher chuckled and continued with the lesson. I shook my head and sipped my hot chocolate and couldn't believe that she had done it. Later I learned that Alyssa had gone to the office, figured out what class I was in, and then went across the school and down two flights of stairs, and then had gone to her own class late. Just to bring me Caribou. She was crazy. She was my friend. She was selfless.
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I was in 10th grade and we weren't talking as much in person anymore. I was actively involved with one of the faith clubs at the high school, and was scheduled to speak on Friday. We had been texting a little back and forth; I had asked for her help and she was giving me ideas and guidance. Late that Tuesday night, I needed to go to bed, so I told her goodnight. She responded, lol, goodnight girl!!! I'll see you tomorrow!! Sweet dreams and god bless you!!! <3 She loved her exclamation points.
The next day, I was sitting in the piano room at school. There was an announcement over the loudspeakers asking teachers to read an email that had been sent district wide. I ignored it, thinking it was about sports. Then the door opened, and one of the freshman came in. "One of the juniors died." My breath caught in my throat. I got up and shoved past her and ran to the choir room where my teacher was sitting.
"Who...?" My teacher stood. She came over to me and put her hand on my shoulder.
"Alyssa Ettl."
My legs stopped working and I would've sank to the floor if she hadn't put her arms around my waist and held me up. I heard someone sobbing, choking, screaming. I tried to block it out. She pushed my face into her shoulder. And then I realized the screams were my own. She was gone.
---
I was in 10th grade and my heart was broken.
I went to church that night and broke down in Julia's arms. 10 minutes I stayed there. Broken. Weeping. Exhausted. In shock.
I didn't go to classes for 3 days.
I still spoke on Friday. About her. I told everyone that she wasn't dead and to be strong and that it was okay. And then I went home that day and lay in bed at 3:00, my door shut, and refused to talk to anyone for the rest of the day.
I stood next to a friend at the side of the road, along with most of the rest of the school, on a freezing December morning, gagging on the Lord's Prayer. Pressed a kiss to the ribbon-laden cross hanging on a post. Squeezed my eyes shut in the truck on the way home and tried to hear her voice.
I stood slumped against my junior high youth pastor at her visitation. Cried into her dad's shoulder and told him I was so sorry. He told me that she really loved me.
I sat next to a guy friend at her funeral. I didn't cry.
I pressed another kiss to her casket at the burial. Told her I was glad she had gotten the hug she told me she had been waiting for from Him. Said goodbye. Let Zach put his arm around me and steer me away.
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I was in 10th grade, it was two weeks after the funeral, it was 11:30 at night, and I sat on my mother's bed, wrapped in her arms, my body convulsing in a panic attack, crying uncontrollably, struggling to breathe. "It's okay," she kept whispering, "it's okay. It's okay. It's okay."
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I was in 10th grade, and I spoke to my God for the first time in a month. And I began to heal.
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I was in 10th grade, and I sat on a stool in front of my church youth group, and I told them the story of how my God came near in the middle of the worst month of my life.
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I was in 10th grade, and I wrote her a letter. Poured out everything I had been keeping in. Told her thank you. Told her I was sorry. Told her I love her. And the pieces of my heart came back together.
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Her name was Alyssa, she was my friend. She lived. Oh, did she live. And then, one day, she died. And left behind a changed school, changed people, a changed district. There will never be anyone quite like her.
Her name was Alyssa, and she showed a scared 11 year old that she cared. That not all the world was mean. That God is faithful. And that you don't have to be big to make a change. She always said, "live a little, love a lot."
Her name was Alyssa, and sometimes I ache so badly to say her name and have her turn around that it physically hurts. But one day I'll be with her, and I find comfort in knowing that my God has her in His grasp.
Her name was Alyssa, and every time I hear that name, I sting a little inside, and then I smile, and I remember the girl who changed me.
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