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Jim Cuddy

age 13
Broad Meadows Middle School

I was sitting at home watching the news when Iqbal was mentioned. First I thought he had just won another award or maybe decided to visit America again, but I was wrong. "Shot dead on Easter Sunday." The words echoed through my head. It didn't register in my brain that Iqbal was dead. For some odd reason I thought he could never die. But he did. I felt, alone, but strangely enough, I felt excited. Excited because I knew this wasn't the end. If they wanted to strike at us, we're gonna' strike back. I knew that Broad Meadow wouldn't let this slip away. We would pick up the fallen sword and continue the fight.

Jim's Letter

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