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Chapter Three


October 3rd 1994,

2 days since.

Before her death, nobody knew who Grace was. This pisses me off because not only was Grace the type of person people deserved to know but also the type of person who deserved to be know. When she was alive that is.

The majority of those who did only knew her by name. To many, she was a nice girl and nothing more, someone you don't hate yet equally don't anticipate company with. Someone you knew you should talk to more but never felt obligated to do so. She was cute, but not adorable, funny but not hilarious, smart but not genius, pretty but not gorgeous. She was simply there. She existed, and her existence never truly offended or overjoyed anyone. That was all she meant to those around her. No one had a bad word to say about her. No one had anything to say about her.

After her passing, fuck, suddenly everyone was aware of Grace Susannah DeWitt. Everyone had their own story, everyone had talked to her, everyone had a lesson with her, everyone had sat next to her. Everyone not only knew but apparently loved Grace. In a sense, at least popularity wise, dying was one of the best things that ever happened to her. See, people don't love tragedies, but people do love expressing how much they don't love tragedies.

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