Never Forgotten, Alaina Fornal [best ereader for students .TXT] 📗
- Author: Alaina Fornal
Book online «Never Forgotten, Alaina Fornal [best ereader for students .TXT] 📗». Author Alaina Fornal
This is dedicated to my boyfriend Ryan Wayne Smith. He went to be with his creator on October 12, 2011, at the young age of 16. He will forever be missed, and I know he would want everybody remembering him for his kindness to others. Ryan, this is for you, and we WILL find out what happened to you.
My name is Alaina Fornal. I have the best boyfriend in the world, Ryan Smith. He is my rock, my go-to person whenever things get bad. He is my best friend, as well as boyfriend. He is so kindhearted and caring to everybody around him, even if they aren’t the same way to him. All that would change on Wednesday night.
I should start on the weekend before that.
Ryan and I had been laying on my couch in the living room, watching a re-run of Fear Factor. For some reason, that seemed to be “our” show. Both of us loved watching it, then prompting each other with the questions like, “What would you do if you were in that position?” His answer was always climb… I don’t know why. If climbing wasn’t available, he would say lay down.
That night, my mother took us to the Tinseltown Cinema to go see Abducted. My mom’s movie started after ours, so while we rushed to get to the theater, my mom was yelling at us to be good.
When we actually found a seat, we sat down and talked a bit during the previews, saying what we wanted to see. I had told him that I wanted to see Straw Dogs, War Horse, and Paranormal Activity 3. He had told me he would take me to go see all three. War Horse, the premier day.
When the movie was over, and after the snide comments made about Taylor Lautner from him, we went out to the lobby to meet my mother. Her movie was still playing. So, we sat down on the many colorful couches. We sat there and cuddled, and kissed, and talked. One woman, probably in her eighties, had come up to us, telling us what a cute couple we made. That had made our night.
On Sunday, Ryan had agreed to come and help me clean the stable and feed the horses. He had come with me that afternoon, and we had brought Kentucky Fried Chicken with us. We ate then began pouring grain for the horses. When they were all fed, Ryan began filling the water trough.
It had gotten dark around then, all the stars coming out. We set an old horse blanket on the ground, laying on it. I lay on his chest, while we looked up at the stars together. We got to talking about the friends we hadn’t seen in a while, and how his best friend from Colorado was coming to see him next weekend. It was a perfect night.
On Monday, it was just like any other normal school day. We both went to school, although we went to completely different schools. We snuck in cute text messages during classes, called each other during passing periods, and texted or called at lunch time. When school was over, he went on to football practice, and I went to go tend to my horses.
Tuesday was just like Monday, except for I volunteer at a Therapy Center for horses and disabled children. I went there after school, and he went to his football practice. When I got home from volunteering, I got a call from a number I didn’t recognize. It was his brother.
I answered the number, hearing Ryan on the other end. He had told me he had broken both bones in his legs from being tackled too hard. I had instantly started crying on the phone. He had told me everything was going to be okay, and that he would see me the next day, because he had to go in for a surgery on Thursday. Somehow, I just had the gut feeling that everything wouldn’t be okay.
When Wednesday came around, I was sitting in my first hour, secretly texted him. He had asked me to go see him the day before he went in for surgery. I had agreed to do so. That afternoon, I went to go visit him before I left to go feed my horses. When I went to see him, he was laying on his bed, a huge white fiber covering his entire leg. I felt so bad.
My mom was with me, and we sat in his room for around an hour and half just talking to him. My mom originally brought up to him how his leg looked yellowed. We didn’t think anything of it. Little did we know, that if we had mentioned something to his grandma, he would still be here.
Before we left, I got the chance to kiss him. I kissed him, not knowing at that time that would be the last kiss. I told him I loved him, and that I would text him when I was through feeding. My mom and I left, and she dropped me off at the barn with my best friend.
When we were done feeding, I took out my phone, and began texting him. He didn’t act any different. I had started texting him at Four forty-five. When he told me he loved me for the last time was at eight forty-five. Little did I know, that would be the last conversation to ever have with him. When I texted him back, I said I loved you and never got a reply. I assumed he just fell asleep.
Thursday morning, I had a sickening feeling. I got a call around six in the morning, the usual time I wake up. It was his brother, Taylor. He had called me and told me he had bad news and his grandma would call my mom. So, she did. When I listened, I heard my mom start crying. That’s when I knew. Ryan didn’t make it through the night.
My mom came into my room, and she told me that he had passed on. I started crying, and she said I didn’t have to go to school. I tried to. I insisted. She was convinced I was in shock; maybe I was. I walked to my bus stop, not stopping crying the whole way. When I got to the bus stop, one of my friends, Sydney was already there. She asked what happened and I told her. Soon, two other people showed up. One was my ex, Zach, and the other y friend Alex. I told them what happened.
I got on the bus, and tried to finish crying on the way to school. Didn’t happen. When I got to school, my friend Lauren and I walked to McDonalds. I called my mom to come pick me up, knowing I wasn’t going to be able to get through the day.
When my mom picked me up, we went home, where I spent seven hours in there, nonstop crying. Then, the doorbell rang. My mom answered it, and it was my best friend, Kennedy. She goes to a private school and I never saw her. She told me that she heard about Ryan, and she wanted to see how I was doing. We sat and talked for two hours, until my friend from the school Ryan attended called me on my cell phone. She told me that one of the religious boys there was having a prayer circle on the football field during their lunch in five minutes.
I originally didn’t want to go. I got to thinking about it, and I asked Kennedy to come with me. She agreed, so we went to the football field. When we got there, I was greeted by three friend of mine, who came running up to me yelling my name and hugging me. We all cried.
When the circle began taking place, I realized the guy holding it was my friend from my last year of middle school. When he finished talking, he asked if I wanted to talk. I did. I was never a big speaker in front of people, but I knew this was for the man I loved.
I had said that you must never take anybody for granted, because you never know when you will lose them.
When everything was over, I had left quickly, knowing I was going to have a breakdown. I went home after that, and around six thirty that night, two of the friends from Ryan’s school, Holly and Sierra, had come to my house. Holly and her mother had brought over cupcakes, and pizza for us to eat. Sierra came over to try and cheer me up.
All three of us had eaten pizza, and they really got me laughing that night. We were enjoying memories form the middle school we were all at the previous year.
When they had to go, it was back to crying again. I ended up crying myself to sleep that night. Even to this day, I spend the night crying over him.
Since he died, his autopsy had come back inconclusive, as well as his toxicology report. The news media was assuming he died of a blood clot. He didn’t.
To this day, we are trying to figure out what happened to him. Nobody knows. We have been told that the doctor wasn’t on staff at the ER the night he broke his leg. He should have went into surgery that night because the nurses KNEW he had bone fragments in his muscles.
The state medical examiner had lied to the faces of his grandparents, his guardians. They wouldn’t answer her questions, and said he simply died of a broken leg. We all know that wasn’t true.
The medical examiner is covering up for the hospital. The hospital had previously lied to my mom about the medications they were giving my grandma the day she died, three years ago. There was no doubt in my mind that the hospital was to blame.
To this very day, we are still trying to find out what happened.
In memory of:
Ryan Wayne Smith
August 26, 1995 – October 12, 2011.
You are loved very much.
Publication Date: 01-28-2012
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