I'm not writing the following entry for pity or attention but rather for myself. I've found in the past few years writing helps me deal with issues bothering me most. I allow the loops and arches of the letters to carry a bit of the weight for me as I work it out so in other words, writing heals me.

I'm going to be honest here. I'm not in the best position to be talking to anyone as I don't feel or think there's much to say except that I am saddened and most devastated with last Friday's news. Quite frankly, it's unfathomable and makes me upset just at the thought of it.

On Friday morning, my family got disheartening news from my uncle that my aunt Molly's son died in a house fire 2:30am that night. It was an awful moment because even though I knew I had gotten up from bed, I still felt like I was sleeping - like I wasn't there at all and this was all just a nightmare. None of it made any sense.

I went to sleep after that and got up hours later staring blankly at the wall wondering if anything that I had heard from in the morning was an ounce of reality and as I sat up I heard my mother's stifled cries through the walls and knew this was happening. The unthinkable, the unimaginable was happening and as the incredible randomness of life rolls on, it was all happening to my family.

My family and I weren't able to go and see my aunt Molly and her family because our passports expired which was pretty stupid timing, however my uncle and aunt went. And I never thought in all my years that the broadcast journalism tagline of, "if it bleeds, it leads" would affect and anger me so deeply. A day upon my uncle and aunt's arrival in Rochester I was reading up on news via the web pertaining to the house fire and came upon news reel footage from different networks of my family members weeping and wailing outside of my deceased cousin's off-campus house. Watching that footage was heartbreaking and I cannot explain exactly how it felt but it was depressing and definitely too much for words to carry on their own.

The fire was accidental and originated on the first floor. There are some reports that it started in my cousin's room, in his fireplace but I'm still not sure and care to think of just what went down.

Now the funeral was yesterday and as the days pass for me, normality starts to kick back yet  I've no clue where I am on the grieving process though I'm pretty sure I'm nowhere near the end.

My cousin -  my beautiful cousin who resembled my aunt Molly greatly is gone but will never ever be forgotten. The thing that hurt me most was that I didn't know my cousin, Ali like I know my other cousins very well and it gnaws at my chest. I met my relatives a long time ago and a lot's changed in those years and I'm upset mostly with myself for not speaking up or reaching out because I'm too damn shy at times. My last memory of him will always be a sweet one though because I remember him being playful and funny as he ran down the hall with his younger brother and our other cousin running behind him in my uncle's house.

Ali Turab, 21 was a student at the Rochester Institute of Technology and was a fourth year communications major. From what I've heard and seen on Facebook (didn't know he had an account till after), I wish I had known him much better because from the looks of it, we had stuff in common. Ali was a circulation desk assistant at his RIT library - he'd put books back on the rack while I toss them off in my bag. We'd work well in perfect symmetry, huh? Another thing I learned was that he was extremely good at commanding attention and public speaking and I forgot to mention, when I had last seen him he was in this NASA program of some sort. My cousin was a genius! All his friends and teachers rant about him being so incredibly smart and talented and it makes so proud and honoured to be his cousin. Another thing he would do was quote and refer classic novels in everyday conversations. We would have had some pretty good conversations.

I'm not angry at God. I can't be but I am saddened and devastated. Mostly though, I am proud of Ali. He was a good guy. Funny and intelligent doesn't come easy, you know? I'm proud of the person he was and the person he was going to become and I will never forget that.

That's all I have to say.