Nik Lionberger. I knew how to spell his name only because they made a sign for him and put it up in the halls. I knew his face because he would walk into Mrs. Murray's room when I was auditioning and say "I'm Jesus." I knew his voice because of his generous, boundless laughter. I knew his smile because it was always there -- even if covered in blood. I only knew him. I didn't know HIM. I never will. That's why I cry -- because one more view of life, one more beautiful soul, one more library of infinite knowledge has burned to the ground. I cry because I asked for a moment of silence and was praised for something I ask for anyone's death. I cry because my Adv. Drama class pulled together around Justin and I and had a circular group hug/cry. I cry because Zack Dombrowski led us in one of the most beautiful prayers I have ever heard. I cry because his death made us all equal -- class meant nothing in our school that day. It was dead silent because we were all hit so hard. I cry because I wish it would've never happened. I cry because death is so mysteriously beautiful -- it is the only thing that makes all people equal, and seems to be the only thing that can cause our school to rise up and become one unit again. I cry because people abused his death with their insincerety. I cry because people fight when we know he would have wanted peace. I cry because I never knew him. But most of all, I cry because "in every death that must occur, it reminds me; in every toll of the iron bell, it tolls for me."