Dear Trent

Dear Trent,

Even though I was only ten years old when it happened, I can still remember it perfectly. I didn’t believe it when I first heard. Brady Hudgeons, of all people, came to my house and told me that you had been shot. What? A ten year old boy doesn’t get shot in Sweeny! When I heard it on the news that night, I couldn’t believe it. Would you believe that the last conversation I remember having with you was about how expensive funerals were? “Ironic” is NOT a strong enough word.

I think about you pretty often. They even planted a tree for you at the Elementary School. I think about how sad it was that you were killed at such a young age. What would you be like now? Would we still have been friends? Would you have graduated high school, went off to college, and had a family of your own? Do you even remember me? Sometimes I think about our friendship and our little crushes and I wonder if I meant to you as much as you meant to me.

I see your mom every once in a while. The first time I really saw her after the funeral was when she came in to the restaurant where I was working. Of course I recognized her at once and took her table. Right before she left, she stopped and asked if I was Alison Ruggles. I said yes and she turned to the man with her and said, “That is Alison Ruggles. That was Trent’s sweetheart. Can you imagine how much that meant to me? Your mom is amazing and so strong for making it through all of this. I can’t even begin to imagine the pain that is caused from losing a son. But to also deal with the pain of knowing your other son is to blame is something I can’t even begin to imagine.

I don’t know the whole truth about what happened that day. All I know is that I lost a friend close to me. Ya know, I couldn’t eat goldfish for months after you died! I would always remember you singing the theme song. It still reminds of you to this day. I also kept a package of m&m’s you gave me one Valentine’s day. Corny, I know, but I just wanted something to remember you by.

I hope you are doing well and enjoying life up there. Maybe someday we will see each other again.

Miss you,
Alison