My cousin, Bart, is dead. He was 14 years old and the sweetest boy in the family. I don't know if he walked into that truck on purpose or not, but I hope the bullies and his dad who made his short life so miserable will have nightmares for the rest of their lives, or at least seriously reconsider their points of view on other people. There's a limit on the bad things a person can take. My aunt has had too much. I admire her, she's a very strong woman, but I doubt she can take this. She shouldn't have to take it. No-one should. Bart has two brothers, an older one and a younger one. They've had to take a lot, too. Their lives will never be the same. The youngest has allways been the personification of mischief. What will happen to him now? I saw Bart only last week. We had a walk and it was beautiful. He seemed to have a good time, before he started looking moody again. Bart is with our grandparents now, and maybe this was what he really wanted. Maybe he's happy now. He's not hurting anymore. He's been hurting inside for so long. I just can't believe this. I can't. I don't want to. But I know it's true. It's just not fair. Not fair at all. That's what I feel now. Hurt for my aunt and my other cousins, and disbelief. He's been long gone, his happy spirit was long gone, but we thought we could bring it back. We tried. Everyone tried so hard. No chance of that now.