"One day we'll meet in the clouds."

It was the coldest night in June, and the air was plagued with frost. It was as if somehow the doors to the afterlife had shattered, and the ghosts behind them poured out in a hurry. The blistering wind sounded like thousands of souls wailing and groaning in pain -- and it only worsened. The faintest trace of her voice could be heard through the wind, a sweet light voice that sprinkled just a moment's warmth before being lost into the raging blizzard that was forming outside. Jazz music played from the living room. Her music radiated warmth in the halls that suddenly felt more empty. It was as if she were the air, and with her gone, the air became thin and colder.

Her voice kept me going. The command, the charisma and the beauty of her voice floated into the air, leaving only her lifeless body as she was lowered down into the grave. The day I heard of her death, all happiness was devoured by my nemesis, depression. She not only inspired me to continue my journey of song, she became my role model -- and I aspired to be just like her. The winds inhaled muses of her melodies and began whistling remnants of her songs. The world took a turn for the worst that night as time stopped and everything slowed.

"Everybody cries, we've all faked a smile. When your back is against the wall, and your hands are tied..."

We all cried -- the whole nation mourned over your death. Your music filled us with radiance and beauty. Each note you expressed shattered music and revolutionized sound in a spectacular way. You rose to stardom as an undiscovered star, waiting to shine and lead the way when nights are too dark. You lighted the way and helped us out of rough times with your music. You knew human emotion -- and relayed it back into your music.

"And I'm coming unplugged. When I'm ready to fall, you're the one always holding me up, with love."

Auto-tune -- you used none. Your voice was as clear as a day with no clouds. As a person, you thought of everyone else. You showered everyone you met with your charisma and love, both contagious. You spread like wildfire and took the nation aback.

On June 10, 2016, you were taken from the Earth. Through unspeakable acts of violence of guns and hate, we have continued to plague the world with our free will. We continue to do so, with no respect or moral compass for our actions. The consequences we pay for it are shown through you. You didn't deserve what happened to you. At age 22, you were only just beginning. This Christmas, I only wish for Christina Grimmie to continue being remembered for her character and voice.

The angels are rocking out up there.