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In memory of My Best Friend

Tenth grade. I was 15. Monday morning, my best friend didn’t show up for school. Didn’t come in Tuesday, either, or the rest of the week. Some time over the next weekend, her body floated up in the canal, bloated and decayed and so damaged that they only identified her by her jewelry. Her boyfriend had shot her in a rage. She was 16; he 18.

So many lives destroyed by one act.

Reacting shows support for gun violence survivors.