This week has been so hectic. And not in the way I had hoped it would be. It all started on Saturday, February 12th. Us MESIS XXIII was having this so-called Amazing Race with our ca.ang and let me tell you, it was a blast. We had fun like we've never had before. And afterwards some of MESIS XXIII went to McDonalds to have lunch and talk about stuff. It was getting dark so we decided to move to my house and discuss more about that stuff.
Not long after that, my friend J got a broadcast message. And that was it. The news.
As soon as we heard about it, our mood dropped drastically. Some of us (including me) started to cry. I personally only knew him from a distance. He used to come to my class almost everyday. But it was just too shocking to actually believe it, because the last time I saw him (on Friday) he was in such fit condition.
And so, me and some of 8'2012 went to his funeral on Sunday, February 13th. There were so many familiar faces who came. From families, to teachers, and friends. Even some of our Year 12 seniors and alumni came to give him the last goodbye. I cried again. It was one of those dark moments that simply sucked the happiness out of your body. I couldn't think of even the slightest positive thought in my head.
The grief atmosphere continued on Monday. The moment I entered the gate, I knew, today was going to be different. And it was. Since the first day of being a student here, I honestly had never felt a day darker than that Monday. The halls, which used to be filled with laughter and screams, were oddly quiet. It's as if someone had put a mute button to this school. Drops of rain kept falling down since morning and the cloudy sky didn't turn sunny for just one minute. It almost felt like the sky was also crying with us.
You see, the strangest part was, somewhere on that Monday, someone left a note on my desk. And it said:
It's weird because the paper was torn apart in half since the moment I found it. And when I turned the other half, I realized something. After all that we've been through. After all those moments that we had to pass together as one union. I think what we really need now is a bit of
P.S.: My deepest condolences goes to Arsya Pratama. May he rest in peace and may God bless his family with patience and strength.
P.P.S.: Keep fighting, to my dearest second family, 8'2012! Everything happens for a reason. Just remember: together, better, stronger!
Not long after that, my friend J got a broadcast message. And that was it. The news.
As soon as we heard about it, our mood dropped drastically. Some of us (including me) started to cry. I personally only knew him from a distance. He used to come to my class almost everyday. But it was just too shocking to actually believe it, because the last time I saw him (on Friday) he was in such fit condition.
And so, me and some of 8'2012 went to his funeral on Sunday, February 13th. There were so many familiar faces who came. From families, to teachers, and friends. Even some of our Year 12 seniors and alumni came to give him the last goodbye. I cried again. It was one of those dark moments that simply sucked the happiness out of your body. I couldn't think of even the slightest positive thought in my head.
The grief atmosphere continued on Monday. The moment I entered the gate, I knew, today was going to be different. And it was. Since the first day of being a student here, I honestly had never felt a day darker than that Monday. The halls, which used to be filled with laughter and screams, were oddly quiet. It's as if someone had put a mute button to this school. Drops of rain kept falling down since morning and the cloudy sky didn't turn sunny for just one minute. It almost felt like the sky was also crying with us.
You see, the strangest part was, somewhere on that Monday, someone left a note on my desk. And it said:
It's weird because the paper was torn apart in half since the moment I found it. And when I turned the other half, I realized something. After all that we've been through. After all those moments that we had to pass together as one union. I think what we really need now is a bit of
P.S.: My deepest condolences goes to Arsya Pratama. May he rest in peace and may God bless his family with patience and strength.
P.P.S.: Keep fighting, to my dearest second family, 8'2012! Everything happens for a reason. Just remember: together, better, stronger!
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