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Can you tell me what you think of the beginning of this story?

  It's funny how you don't believe someone is actually dead until they're being buried. Palma Voorhees died suddenly, the kind of death where people who loved you dearly still can't believe it. Savannah Ripley kept waiting for Palma to pop out of her casket to say she was okay. She kept waiting for the police to say they made a mistake. She kept waiting for the nightmare to end. But she wouldn't wake up. No more buttery-blond hair and grayish-green eyes to look at. No more bright smiles to take pictures with. Most importantly no more singing from a beautiful angel. That night, Savannah laid curled up in a ball in her canopy bed, clinging to Tippet. Tears decorated her face as she stared at a picture of her and Palma from September. The weather was beautiful on that day. Palma clinged to a stop sign next to a green willow while Savannah hung upside down from a tree branch.  This isn't fair. She thought Palma was supposed to be okay. She wasn't supposed to die. She was going to get her tumor removed. Not have her eyes gouged out by a windshield. They were supposed to have a celebration party after Palma got the operation.  No one even got to say goodbye.   Palma's favorite song played from her Ipod docking station. The song had been Palma's favorite song. Everyday when Savannah got home from school, she would take Palma's school picture, play the song, and look at the picture. Her friendship bracelet was permanently attached to her hand. Now all was left of Palma were pictures, music, and the video of her and Palma from the talent show.   Tippet whimpered, nudging his nose against Savannah's body. Savannah didn't budge as Tippet tried to lick her. He always sensed when something was wrong with Savannah. And like a dutiful dog, he made sure to give her his full undivided attention. She patted the dog's soft fur as she listened intently to Palma's favorite part in the song. Old memories came back as the song increased its counterpoint. From the first football game to New York, all those memories came back with full force. Her eyes stung from the sadness that hit her. It had been five long days since Palma's death. The news was still new to her. She couldn't seem to believe that Palma was dead. Every time she saw a picture of Palma, she would smile and think she couldn't wait to see her again. But then she would have to wait. Because Palma was dead.   A soft sob came up her throat. Leaning over her bed, she grabbed the tissue from the box on her nightstand and blew into it. Her friend had just died. The third person she knew who had died tragically. Her friends from elementary school had both committed suicide in middle school. One was by accident. She only hoped that Palma was in a better place. She hoped Palma was enjoying it there. Not wanting to come back down to Earth. "Pumpkin," her mother called from downstairs, "get read for school." Her mother had been gentle with her ever since the car accident last Friday. She had been taking her to Palma's grave and running her by the church nearly everyday. She couldn't help but feel grateful for that. "Kay," she sniffed, getting out of her bed and heading towards her bathroom. Tears blended in with the shower water as she washed herself with her tangerine scented soap. The kind Palma had given her for Christmas. Everything around her reminded her of Palma. Pictures, gifts, songs, and videos. After the agonizing shower was over with, she put over a gray Colts hoodie and stepped into her skinny jeans. Her dark-brown hair was put back into a curly ponytail because she didn't feel like doing much to it. Downstairs in the kitchen her mother was preparing her lunch for work. She was stirring her tuna when Savannah reached the second floor. Marjorie turned around and smiled kindly at her daughter. Her face so much like her daughters that it amazed people how uncanny their resemblance were. "Are you okay, sweetie?" she asked concernedly, putting a hand on her forehead. Savannah nodded. "Yes, ma'am. I just lost a little bit of sleep." "Oh, honey..." Marjorie coaxed, wrapping her into a hug. "I'm so sorry what happened to your friend Palma. I know how much you cared about her. But look at it this way, at least she's in a better place." That made Savannah angry. Why must everyone say that? Yes, she was a better place, but that didn't mean she should have died early. That didn't mean to just forget about it and say "Oh, well. Life goes on." Palma was more than some person who just spontaneously died in a hit-and-run accident. "I gotta go, mom." she said shortly. "Love you, have a nice day." And with that she was heading downstairs to the front door. When she got to the front door Davey Smith, her step-brother, was already standing there with an understanding e

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