I merely blinked as all the chairs screeched back as the students began to leave class. I slowly fell into line, right behind her. Though I lost my sense of touch, taste, and smell it was almost as if a freshly baked bread scent revolved around her. Maybe it was just the kindness and comfort her dark eyes held, the same feelings my mother’s pastries brought in me. I felt my heart ache at the thought of her. I remember watching her teary eyes before she collapsed to the ground in front of the school.

“Your son--”

“We are investigating.. We still don’t know--”

“He’s dead.”

I closed my eyes shut, almost as if I could escape this very moment, this very place. To disappear from this very world would be bliss. I briskly moved past her and out into the gloomy hallway. And I merely lost it when my own knees buckled and I floated just inches above the ground with my head hanging down. I let out this cry of agony… almost scared my own self by the sound of the terrible grief it held. I knew that no one else would hear, no one could. But when she patted my shoulder and I felt her warmth somehow touch my icy aura, she had heard my cries.