2

In the peak of Ellie's depression, she asked her mom to make sure I read the last eulogy in her funeral. Her mom, a kind lady with the biggest heart I have ever met, broke down into tears at her daughter's insistence. Personally, I was quite honoured because I had only known Ellie for approximately three months yet she had already deemed me important enough to deliver an eulogy. I cried though, considering an almost fourteen year old girl thinking so readily about her own death is extremely sad.

Later, in private, she made me promise that I write 'a eulogy to end all eulogies'. I pinky promised I'd do it.

And now, four years later, here I am standing in front of a crowd of teary eyed people, waiting to deliver a eulogy about my dead best friend.

I clear my throat and start talking into the small microphone placed on the little podium in front of me.

"What can I say about Elizabeth Winters?" I started, my voice surprisingly strong, optimistic and clear despite all the tears I've been holding back since the moment I found out she jumped. It has somehow become drilled in my brain that crying only leads to more problems, problems that I couldn't possibly deal with at this moment in time.

With a short intake of breath, I continued.

"To me, and to many others, she was Ellie. She was a picture of intelligence, a mind full of ideas and fun. Ellie was different, and though she didn't strive to be different, she made it work."

I hold on tightly to the makeshift note cards I made, until the edges crumple. When I look up again, the first thing I notice is a boy wearing a top hat staring at me from the back of the church. He has his hand under his chin and one of his legs put over the other while he sits wearing black like the rest of us. I look away from him, still curious by the top hat but nevertheless, I still want to go on.

"Most of us would remember her for completely different things, and I'm not going to try and describe how Ellie was to you, for that would be insensitive and impolite. I'll try and say what she was to me, and hopefully you can relate."

"A ray of pure sunshine peeking in on a cloudy day. Sometimes dull, sometimes bright, always changing, always shifting whenever the clouds moved against her, but always there no matter the angle our world had spun us to."

Someone started to cry out loud and I bit my lip tightly, breathing in and out regularly. No use crying, I tell myself. What would that solve?

"We used to talk about infinity, the end after the end. And now she has reached her infinity, I hope she receives an abundance of happiness, similar to what she showed me within her time on Earth."

After the service, many of Ellie's relatives give me hugs or handshakes, telling me that I did a good job with my eulogy. One even said it captured the essence of Ellie and showed truth beyond the truth. I didn't know what that meant, but I was almost one hundred percent sure it was a compliment, so I thanked them.

I hovered around like a fly as people spoke to each other and mingled. It's weird, I didn't know anyone here apart from Ellie's parents. Even the kids my age went either to her high school or were her cousins, and they stared at me equally as blankly as I glanced over them.

I decided I had stood around awkwardly enough for one day and decided to leave. But before I could, I ended up walking into someone.

"Oh, I'm sorry." I apologised, looking up at them. I saw a top hat, and for once, someone taller than me even when I wore heels. He had liquid hazel eyes (like the colour of caramel), and they stared down at me with a humoured expression, though I didn't know why, considering our surroundings and current situation.

"You're the pun." He noted.

"I'm a what?" I suddenly felt as though I were Harry Potter and he was Hagrid. That could explain why he was so tall.

"The pun. Your name is Diane Young, as in dying young." He took off his top hat and revealed a mess of brown hair that looked unnaturally curled. It reminded me of when Ma put in curlers overnight so her hair was a bundle of curls in the morning. "Do you know who Vampire Weekend are?"

"Of course?"

"Then surely, you've heard your song?"

"You mean Diane Young?"

He nodded. "Did you change your name just to suit it?"

I gave him an awkward look. "Born and raised as a pun. But I do love that song. A lot." I said, and he gave me a slight smile before looking around and putting his hat back on.

"Were you and Ellie close?" He asked, suddenly. I nodded. "How close?"

I cleared my throat and refrained from shrugging. "Close enough for me to read out her eulogy."

"Ah. I see."

"What about you?"

He stroked his bare chin and looked down at the gravelly path we had been standing on. "She once called me a good friend. Though I don't know why she didn't say best friend, I mean, look at me."

I looked at him. "I can see why she didn't say that." He gave me a glare, which I took with a very wry smile. "Anyway," I started once more. "I was just leaving."

"Oh, but don't you want to know my name?" He asked, his slightly bushy eyebrows dipping into his face.

"What?"

"My name. Everyone wants my name. I mean..." He gestured at himself with an expression that said 'duh' colouring his face. I looked him up and down.

"No." I pursed my lips. "But give me your top hat."

"My what?"

"I'd rather have your top hat than your name."

We had a very short staring contest. It was a draw; we both blinked at the same time and it was forgotten in the past.

"I can't believe you're asking for my hat rather than my name. My hat isn't even important at this moment in time." He said.

"If you really don't think it's important, then why don't you give it to me?"

"Because it's mine." He snapped.

"Please give it to me. I'd like a hat."

He looked very gobsmacked for a few moments before laughing out loud (causing a few people to look towards us) and taking off his hat. "You're very persuasive, Diane Young."

He gave me the hat and I nodded, putting it on my hat. "If Diane Young can't change your mind..." I started.

"Then, ride on time." He finished, and put out his hand for me to shake. "I like you, Miss Young."

"Okay," I said, not knowing what else to do.I took his hand and shook lightly before putting on his top hat and bowing. "Thanks for the fun discussion, but Miss Young must be departing for her home at this moment in time."

He bowed back and I waved at him, before going to look for Mrs Winters to tell her I was leaving. She gave me a hug and a kiss on the forehead, with tears pooling out of her eyes.

"Be safe, Diane." She said.

Almost a week later, I went to see Ellie's gravestone. There's a lot of flowers colouring it brightly and it still looks new, fresh, shiny. It's good to see people don't deface gravestones any more. At least, I hope they don't.

I talked to her quite freely, sitting in the mud behind the stone and just asking why everything went so bad for her so quickly. Nobody knew. I didn't know she was still depressed, and she once claimed she told me everything. Maybe our ideas of the word everything are very different.

After a while, I left for me and my ma's apartment. It's mostly hers, since she pays for it, but I spend the most time there. Our normally sleepy block was filled with cursing and laughter, something that really surprised me.

As the elevator was broken, I had to walk up the stairs. The noise got louder as I got to the eighth floor, my floor, where there was an array of furniture and people. I had to carefully step my way over to the door. I wondered if I should help them instead of digging my hand through my bag and trying to escape. Maybe they'd peg me the nosy neighbour, even though that was Mr Winston downstairs. They might say I was a nice and helpful girl, although, but I had learned that taking chances was out of character for me.

"Well, if it isn't the pun!" I heard a slightly familiar, slightly off, voice say. I turned around, my key in the door and came face to face with an indigo chameleon.

I jumped back into the door, and felt the key dig into my back. Holding the chameleon was top hat boy and he now had a very happy expression on his face. Though I didn't know why, he and his chameleon had just killed my spine.

"Diane! Meet Duke!" He said, thrusting 'Duke' into my face. I moved his hand gently further away and said hello.

"Hi, Duke. What's happening?"

"Enough about Duke. I'm Elijah West."

"As in the prophet?"

"No. As in the Elijah West."

"Hello, Elijah."

He tittered. "That's not my name."

"But you just said..."

He moved back and shook his head, his slightly curly hair bouncing too. It still had the roller effect. "My name is Elijah West. Not simply Elijah."

"You're strange." I said, once again turning around to unlock the door.

"Your name is a pun." I opened the door and stepped inside.

"And yours is a prophetical direction." I said, not looking back.

"Touché."