25 years ago, and it still feels like yesterday. The day school started the way every school day started. At least that's how it seemed. I remember it well.

In the hall of the A. Roland Holst College, we and all the students were waiting for the bell to ring for the first lesson. However, this one went later than usual. Right away, I felt that something wasn't right. And that would show. After some delay, after some delay, the bell rang and we were allowed to go to our classrooms with all students, we were not yet able to comprehend what we were going to be told at the time.

I remember it well, like yesterday. I was in my third grade, was with my heels over the ditch. I had the economics lesson. I wasn't very good at that. A lecturer came with the announcement that a student had died. A second grade student. Immediately radarts that started spinning, because a number of former classmates had stayed seated.

And then the name fell. A silence overtook most of them in the classroom. Most of them had been in class with her. Me too. I didn't have an intensely good friendship with her, but she did teach me a number of life lessons that I still take with me every day. And I am thankful for that.

For example, I was very bullied during my high school period. She understood me somewhere, because she experienced the same thing. Still, she seemed to be able to get rid of it easier. I was able to come to her when I had a hard time again. Was able to discuss this with her and she often told me that what was said should be tried not to involve myself, no matter how difficult.

These days, I think extra about people like them, who have had such an impact on my life. She died far too young and yet she still lives on in a certain way. As long as the persons are remembered, and if it can be called the names, one lives on with others.

What is your story?