A Sad Story

K. Brown has had a rough path in life despite the brevity of it. Her parents divorced when she was in middle school. To cope with the hurt, she started sleeping with boys. She became pregnant in 7th grade but lost the baby shortly thereafter. Rumor around school has it she purposely fell down the stairs in order to abort the baby.

In 8th grade, she became pregnant again. This time the baby survived, and at the young age of 13, she gave birth to a little baby girl. Shortly after that, she learned that her little brother had leukemia. Her mom got a boyfriend, who moved into the house. K. Brown and this new guy did not get along, so K. Brown started moving from house to house to house. She brought her daughter along with her.

In 9th grade, the rumors flowed through school about K. Brown.
"Did you hear she's sleeping with T?"
"That's the girl with a baby."
"Her brother is dying."
"Her mom is a tramp."
"She's virtually homeless."
"She doesn't even know who the daddy is."

K. Brown didn't let that stop her. She put on a brave smile and walked through the halls as whispers swam around her. Her grades dropped as she juggled being a mother and a 14 year-old high school student.

I met K. Brown at the start of her 10th grade year. I was privilege to meet this gorgeous lady and become her English teacher. When I say gorgeous, I mean that in every sense of the word. She is the prettiest girl I have ever taught. She has a grace about her that puts her light years in front of her peers, but she has a sadness in her eyes that brought me to tears just looking at her. Her pain was evident to those who cared to see it.

We became fast friends, quickly exchanging phone numbers, becoming FB friends, and making plans to hang out during the weekends. These things are off-limits for teachers, and I understood the risks, but K. Brown became like a daughter to me. I tucked her under my wing and became her go-to teacher. While he mom was passed on the sofa from too much booze, K. Brown knew she could call me when she needed a mother figure.

In the middle of her 10th grade year, her brother's cancer started to win. At this point, K. Brown was failing all of her classes. Her little girl was almost two, her mom was a raging alcoholic, and her mom's boyfriend was yelling at her every chance he got. K. Brown was also working a job in order to pay for daycare for her little girl.

K. Brown's brother died over Christmas break of her 10th grade year. K. Brown didn't know her brother was THAT sick because her mother tried to keep that news from her. His death rocked K. Brown's world. Not only did she lose the love of her life, but she never even saw it coming.

Her life as she knew it was over. She never did recover from his death. I lost K. Brown the day her brother died. She never has been the same, and it broke my heart. She stopped coming to class. She stopped texting me. She stopped FBing me. She lost the smile on her face. She lost all hope in her eyes.

Her 11th grade year (this year), she walked as a zombie through the halls. I was excited to see her on my first hour roster again, and I hoped I would be able to help her. She came into this year with only four credits on her transcript (it takes 22 to graduate), so I spoke with her about a plan for graduation. She said she wanted to graduate and was going to do everything in her power to do it. Her attendance started out okay, but I never did see her smile. She wouldn't talk about her brother, although she did mention that her brother had died a year ago but it still felt like it was yesterday.

About three weeks ago, she stopped coming to class altogether. I knew then I had lost her completely. She stopped by my room randomly two weeks ago with her little girl. She wanted me to meet K. Brown junior. What a gorgeous little girl she is! She looks just like K. Brown but with curly blond hair. I asked K. Brown how she was doing, and with tears in her eyes she said her mother was as good as dead. She drank all day to take away the pain of losing her son, and K. Brown was being a mother to her daughter as well as her mother. She said the pain of losing her brother was smothering her and she felt like she couldn't breathe. She said she could barely get out of bed most days. I hugged her, but her hug back was limp. I asked her what I could do to help. She said, "There's nothing you or anyone can do to take away the pain." She walked away holding her daughter's hand. I cried as they walked down the hallway.

Yesterday, K. Brown dropped out of high school. With tears in my eyes, I signed her drop out form that a student aid brought to me. I didn't even get to say goodbye to K. Brown. The last time I saw her, she was void of all hope, happiness and peace.

So like I said, K. Brown has had a rough path in life despite the brevity of it.