The night of December twentieth had a huge impact in my life. It was the night I lost a friend who was a great influence to me. Zainab, the girl whose presence brought life wherever she went, was my classmate and a close friend. She was a creative and dedicated art student of Marc Garneau collegiate. It was through her interest in art that I got to know her. Her passion towards art was similar to mine. It was as if fate had brought us together in the same art class in her last few months. I got to know a person that I would never forget for the rest of my life.
The day I received the phone call informing me about her death shocked me. It was hard to believe that a person who sparkled with so much exuberance would fade away within just a few moments. The instant I saw her lying in the coffin, I knew I had lost her forever. The girl who would never stop talking was lying motionless in front of me. I could not believe my eyes. The pain I suffered from this trauma was
I realized a valuable lesson after losing her, that it doesnt matter if we die anytime, it matters how much we've lived in our life. Zainab lived her life doing what she liked the most. Eventhough her ambitions weren't fulfilled, her task in this world was accomplished. She had touched enough lives to be an inspiration to each and every one of them.
This trauma I experienced turned my life in a way that I came more into focus with my goals. I realized that life is too short to be wasted. Zainab took advantage of every moment and made use of the time she was given. She would always be rushing away with her artworks as well as have time to have fun.
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