My dad died 6 months ago, and at first I was strong so I could help my mom through it, but then I finally broke down. One day during school I just started writing him a letter. I wrote about how much fun we'd had, and how much I had accomplished since he had left. I knew he could never read it, but it just made me feel better.

I was in Music Theory class, the smallest class in the whole school with just 5 people, and I started crying. We didn't have a regular class that day because there was a choir performance that Sun., and people were working on solos. I went in another room, because I didn't want anyone to know that I was upset.

I didn't think anything in the world could help me. I finally stopped crying and went back to join the rest of the class. Everyone could tell something was wrong but I didn't want them to know so when they asked what was wrong, I said, "Nothing."

One person in that class knew I was lying and said, "Seriously, what's wrong." So I told her that I missed my dad. She sat down beside me and said, " I'm sorry, do you want a hug, I have plenty of them!" And I just said " No," and realized that I really needed to talk to someone so I dragged her into the other room and told her everything I could remember, about what happened and everything.

She was a great listener and even though she didn't think she helped me, she did more than anyone else just by being there to talk to, and listening to what I said. Then she gave me a hug and whispered in my ear, " He loved you, you are beautiful and loving. You're his creation." Then she left.

She didn't know it then, but I thought that I could've saved my dad. I felt that his life was in my hands and I let him down. I was going to commit suicide.......but she saved me.

--- Written by T.D., Age 16 --- Ohio