“What’s going on?” Do you have any news? I asked desperately. It was dark at night; the moon did not shine tonight and a cloud of despair surrounded all those who had gathered at the entrance to the hospital. "What happened?" Everyone was crying now – despairing, disbelieving… devastated. "What? He died? NO! That can't be true... but he was fine... it was just his leg...! That couldn't be possible. "Beep-beep-beep" the alarm went off. I woke up frantically, begging God that it was JUST a dream, but it wasn't – he was actually gone On January 14, 2008, Alan James Cross Lopez left this world to meet God, leaving. everyone who knew him with a hollow heart. I was in my parents' room watching television, around eight o'clock in the evening. My sister came into the room looking for my mother, but there was something. something strange in her eyes, she was concerned. “Li, what’s going on?” I asked “Alan had an accident; with a friend; you can come if you want,” she replied, thinking it was nothing serious, I refused to go, because I was too comfortable in my parents’ bed. watching TV. I've known Alan for a year or more now and he was the nicest man I've ever met. After thinking about it carefully, I decided to go; he would have done the same thing in my place. The hospital was very far away, and during the ride I regretted going there, thinking that I had come such a long way just for a broken wrist, or that maybe I would be the youngest person. and that would have been very embarrassing. The night was very dark and cold. Streetlights lit the way, while cars rushed into “La Suburbana.” When we finally got to the hospital, I realized that I wasn't the youngest or the only one to go to the middle of a paper... that it didn't mean anything to me, or that it It was me who wanted it. I don't love him enough to miss him. “Why him?” I found myself saying. “Why him?” I found myself reaching for the nearest wall to sit…pray, curse. Alan James Cross died that night in a car-motorcycle accident. The "final" version of the accident was that he left his friend's house in such a hurry that he did not put on his helmet. When the car hit him, he was thrown from his bike and onto the asphalt, hitting the back of his head. Alan left this world in peace, because he had no enemies. I know he went straight to heaven, because I have not met a holier or more gracious man than him in my life. He was a saint, as many said. He gave his life to others and expected nothing in return; a perfect gentleman and a perfect friend. “Alan, you will always be in my heart; I will love you forever.”