January 28, 1986
Today was a horrible day. It had all the makings of a good one. Mom didn’t wake me up too early. No one stepped on the new snow before I went out. Dad was scheduled to come home at four. Mrs. McAuliffe was going to space. We had time out of class to watch the launch. Everyone came early, and we all talked in the gym. Six teachers yelled at us to be quiet before they gave up. No one was listening! Plus, they were all talking too. We can’t be expected to be quiet if they won’t be. Mrs. McAuliffe was going to teach us from space.
Sorry about that tear. Anyway, she was going to teach us from space. We were very excited. The launch seemed to go okay, once it finally started. I can see the rocket rising in my head. It will be in my nightmares. Seventh grade was supposed to be amazing. All it can be now is a reminder of something horrible. The rocket went up for about a minute, when there was a bright flash. The rocket stopped going up, instead, it was going down, in pieces. The announcers started to talk, but a teacher turned off the monitor before we could hear anything. We didn’t know what had happened for the rest of the day. I only learned after I came home. Mom told me. The shuttle had exploded and everyone onboard was dead. Mrs. McAuliffe could not teach us from space now. She was dead.
I don’t think I can ever be happy again. It’s so unfair! Why did the stupid rocket blow up? Why didn’t someone stop it? Now my teacher, my friend, is dead. She burned up because someone broke something. Rockets don’t just blow up randomly. Someone messed up. Mom told me I needed to calm down. I don’t think she understands. I hate this. Mrs. McAuliffe is going to have a funeral, and I’ll probably cry. How can she really be dead?
Dad said that that was sometimes how life worked, but I think he was wrong. God doesn’t just take away people for no reason. Someone had to have messed up. God wouldn’t have taken someone as amazing as Mrs. McAuliffe without a reason. There must have been a mistake. Bobby said that this was denial or blame which are stages of grief. Bobby thinks he knows everything now that he is in high school. He doesn’t need to talk down to me. I know things too. I know that grief doesn’t have stages. Grandpa told me that one after Grandma died.
I used to want to go to space, but not anymore. I can’t even look at the sky without crying. I hate this. Dad says that I can’t hate the sky just because Mrs. McAuliffe died in it. I think that I can. I don’t want anyone else to go to space. They will die. Space takes your life. I hate it.