He's dead. Robert Raines, one of my children I tutored in north carolina, is dead. And everyone thinks I am over it. They think I am ok with it. They are so very wrong. I want to kill the jerk that did this, the man that beat him to death. I hope I never meet that man. I don't want his blood on my hands. WHY? He was so bright, so talented. He could have risen above the circumstances of life. Oh, God! Why? He was only Fourteen. Why is it that he died? I would have given my life for him. I would trade it now, if it would do any good. This isn't what I wanted for him. It isn't what I wanted for his younger brother, who has no one now. I want to scream, I want to kill something. I want to weep with sorrow. What I want most of all, is for grace to fall on me. Grace like rain. Like the tears that fell on his grave. Grace Like Rain.