I was 17, pregnant, and married. Johnny was in North Carolina with his family for a short visit. He was 21. I spoke to him the evening of January 8th and everything was fine. We talked about how his family was, what he was going to be doing to help his grandfather while he was in town, and how I was feeling with the pregnancy still being new to both of us. We exchanged "I love you"s and hung up. I was unable to get in touch with him the next day as phone lines in my area were down. The day after that, I wasn't able to get an answer at his mother's. I called his aunt's as he mentioned he might go visit her. She told me he died the day before. I hung up without a word. I didn't believe her, so I called the morgue. I described him and gave his name, praying she was lying. The technician came back to the phone and said, "Yes, he's here." I hung up, numb for a moment, then I started screaming at the top of my lungs. I screamed for hours. My friend I was staying with got home from work and held me until I stopped. I thought there would never be anything for me in this life again.