This is in Shanea's point of view. I do not own Ralphie, the mother, or Naveen.


He was born to a wonderful and loving family. We loved him so much. We still do. I remember holding his tiny hand in the hospital…

***flashback***

"Hi, hi baby" I wonder if he could understand me. He giggled and latched onto my hand. I smiled.

"What…uh…will you call him?" Asked a French nursemaid. She was learning English, so she couldn't remember what all English words mean.

"Yeah mom, what's his name?" Naveen asked, his braces sparkling.

"Raphael"

I thought of something. "Ohhhh! Mama, can we call him Ralphie?"

"Ralphie. Why that's perfect."

*** 1 year later***

"Happy Birthday to you!"

I ran up to him and picked him up. "Happy Birthday baby boy. Your growing up so fast!"

He giggled. "Tank you sissy!"

I handed him a small wrapped box. "This is for you"

He opened it and his eyes went wide with surprise. "Tank you!" He held up an army jacket with his name sewn on the front. He quickly put it on. I laughed. It was two sizes too big for him. He hugged me and whispered, "I loves you"

***3 months later***

He screamed and wailed at me as I tried to calm him down. "What's wrong baby? Are you hungry?"

"It HURTS!"

"What hurts? I can't help you if you don't tell me!"

Just then my mother walked in. "What's wrong with him," she yelled over his cries.

I out Ralphie down and walked over to my mother. "Mama something's really wrong with him!"

***At the hospital***

"Your son has Neuroblastoma."

We all looked at the doctor in disbelief. Ralphie couldn't have cancer. I looked at him sleeping in his hospital bed. I couldn't lose my only little brother. No. Ralphie would not go down without a fight. Not if I had anything to say about it.

*** 3 years later***

I visited him everyday after school. He got older in that hospital, and we celebrated birthdays there. 3 to be exact. He lost his hair and his eyebrows, but he still wore that army jacket. I knocked our special knock and quietly opened the door.

"Shanea!"

"Hi Ralphie! I brought you something." I handed him small seashell.

"Ohhhhh! Thank you Shanea!" He suddenly started to cough violently. Doctors rushed to his aid as the put small needle in his arm. His coughing slowed done and he eventually stopped. He yawned, and the doctors told me he should take a rest. I quietly kissed him on his head and promised I would com back tomorrow.

He died that same summer. He died wearing the army jacket.

***2 months later***

"So, I believe we should meet with the ambassador on Friday, and-"

"You should be planning Ralphie's funeral."

My mother looked at me dangerously. If looks could kill, I would have been decaying by now. "Well you do! That should be your top priority!"

"Shanea, I have other things to do. Other things that also need to be taken care of."

"Great, of course there are! Why should I expect you to care about Ralphie?"

She slammed down her phone and looked at me. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"You didn't even cry when he died! You never cared about him! You find your dress more important than your son dying from CANCER?"

I didn't give my mother time to answer. I ran upstairs and slammed the door to my room. I ran to my closet and cried. Why? Why did such a beautiful boy with so much hope and courage have to go. I felt two strong arms wrap around from behind me and drops of water land on my shoulder.

"I miss him too," Naveen cried. My brother could be a jerk, but and least he had a heart…

***3 months later***

We buried him in the jacket, so I never got to see it again. I was doing clothes one day, (I liked doing my own chores), when I carefully picked up one of Ralphie's old onesies. I broke down and cried. I missed him so much. I hurried and stashed the onesie at the bottom of my sock drawer. I would hide it before my mother found all of Ralphie's old clothes and threw them away.

***Today***

I rummaged my hand through the bottom of my underwear drawer until I felt the familiar fabric. I carefully pulled out the onesie. I held it close to my chest and whispered, "I'll always love you, baby boy…"


I almost cried while writing this. R.I.P Ronan, you are still in our hearts, even to this day. My mother also went to highschool with Rosaline Lee. Rosaline, you will always be remembered and live in our hearts. And, please pray for her daughter, who will now have to grow up without a mother. This story is dedicated to both Ronan and Rosaline. And, to anyone else who has lost someone dear, private message me and I will help you through this. It will be okay. I promise.

R.I.P Ronan Sean Thompson

2007-2011

R.I.P Rosalie Ransom Lee

1980-2013