I refused to start crying until the funeral. I was grateful that Jonny had agreed to come with me, but I felt guilty for dragging him there. He met Guy one time, and now I was dragging him to his funeral. Not the best way to start a friendship, I guess.

Jonny drove. I was still suffering emotional trauma from the accident, and I hadn't driven myself or anyone else since then. I'd had my license temporarily revoked anyway.

I just stared out the window, thinking about what I would say in Guy's behalf. I hadn't prepared anything, because I felt it unfair to prepare a big speech from Guy without just listening to my heart. He deserved to hear what was in my heart, not what was on a stupid piece of paper.

"Are you ok?" Jonny asked, putting his hand on my leg.

I smiled at him and nodded. He had been staying with me since I invited him over, his claim being that he never had anyone to hang out with. I don't really know what I would call us. Not boyfriends, it was far too early for that. Maybe we were friends with benefits, or two blokes with a silly crush on each other. I don't know. All I knew was that I enjoyed his company and I didn't want him to leave me yet. Too much loss had occured in my life. No way I was ready for another one.

He smiled at me and patted my leg. I turned back to look out the window, paying close attention to the sway of the trees as a storm blew in.

When we got there, I was greeted sadly by my mum and dad, who had come to love Guy like their own son. "Hi, sweetie," Mum greeted, kissing my cheek and pulling me into a hug. She was wearing a long, black dress that ended just above her ankles, smooth like silk with black lace that began at her chest and snaked its way up over her shoulders and down her back. "How are you?"

I sighed. "I've had better days, that's for sure."

She rubbed my hair and sighed. "I know, honey. I'm so sorry."

Jonny pursed his lips, and I looked at him apologetically. "Mum and Dad, this is my friend, Jonny."

Mum smiled at Jonny and Dad shook his hand. "It's good of you to come, Jonny," Dad told him.

Jonny smiled his sweet smile at him. "That's what friends are for," he replied, winking at me.

I smiled back and turned back to my parents. "He's been staying with me at Al's since a few days after the accident."

"You seem like a sweet young bloke, Jonny," Dad said, and both Jonny and I blushed.

"Dad, leave him alone," I said with a small giggle.

Dad smiled at me. "Is there something wrong with compliments, Chris?"

I just rolled my eyes. "Where am I supposed to go?"

He frowned again. "I believe the pastor knows where you should go," he replied.

I nodded solemnly and took Jonny's hand, going to find the pastor. He was standing at the front of the room, scanning the crowd, and I carefully walked up to him. I had always been afraid of priests and pastors, as I'd been questioning my religion (is that a thing?) since I was 15. I thought that they would judge me for not being a firm believer in God, throw holy water at me and tell me that I was going to Hell. This pastor, however, had a bald head and small, jovial face with a solemn smile, as if it were his first ever funeral.

"Uh... hello, sir," I began, letting go of Jonny's hand to avoid judgment. The pastor looked to me and gave me a smile. "I'm uh... giving Guy's eulogy today. Is there a certain place that I'm supposed to go?"

The man hummed and looked at his paperwork. "You're Chris Martin?" He asked, and I nodded. "You are required in the meeting room for the reading of the will."

"I hadn't realized there was a will," I said.

"There was a will found in his house last week. It's a bit outdated, but it was the best we could do."

My eyes widened, and I nodded. "Thank you, sir," I said, and took Jonny's hand again.

We walked into the meeting room, where Guy's parents were already sitting. They looked at Jonny curiously, eyeing him briefly, before turning back to me with a small smile. "Hi, Chris. It's so good seeing you."

I bit my lip, not sure that they were actually so happy to see the man that killed their son. "Yeah, it's been awhile," I replied awkwardly, not able to meet their eyes.

Mr. Berryman sighed, and shuffled some papers around. Underneath the round table, made of polished Cherrywood, Jonny squeezed my hand, and I nearly cried, being reminded of the way Guy would simply hold my hand every time I was nervous. "I understand that this is a very difficult time for you, as it is for us, too," the man explained to me, "but we were fortune enough to have a will left. I think we should read it before each of us start claiming things. Besides, I like you, Chris. I wouldn't want you to be upset because we take something that Guy would have wanted you to have. He loved you a lot, Chris."

I just nodded, turning to Jonny for encouragement. He gave me a reassuring smile and nodded back towards Guy's parents. I gulped, and finally looked them in the eyes. There, I saw hurt and pain, as they probably saw in my eyes, though I had one thing that they didn't have: the memory of watching my love die.

Tears filled my eyes again and I casually blinked them away. Guy's mother actually started to cry, though silently, and I hung my head again.

"Strange, he wrote it in the form of a letter," Mr. Berryman said, and cleared his throat.

"'Dear my dearest loves,
I hope that this will is never read and can forever be tossed into my drawer. I will write another one were I to discover that I had some sort of terminal illness, such as cancer, and I'll write another one if I live past the age of 50. This one, however, will suffice for now.
I would first off like to say that there are so few people whom I love in this world, but deciding who gets what is the difficult part. For example, I know how much my beloved Chris loves my grandmum's clock, but I can't give that to him because it's a family relic. Maybe Chris and Mum and Dad will stay friends. I should hope so.
I guess I'll get into it now. Some things I have to give to Chris, things that we share (or shared, I guess) and I couldn't imagine giving up, such as the funds in my bank account, and my house, but other things I'm forced to give to Mum and Dad, like the compensation for my death (am I to die, of course).
Mum and Dad probably don't need much, to be honest. They can have all of our family relics, if they want, but to be honest, I think it would be best if Chris were to keep the house as it is now. Damn, just imagining me leaving him like that is heartbreaking. He would have nowhere to go. I would feel awful.
Mum and Dad, please take care of him if you read this. He's so precious and he deserves the world. Lord only knows how hard I'm trying to give it to him. I love him so much. I really hope you don't ever have to read this letter.
Best regards,
Guy'"

Mrs. Berryman was in tears by the second paragraph, and Mr. Berryman and I were struggling to hold them in ourselves. "He... really loved you," he noted.

I nodded. Jonny rubbed my hand with his thumb, not saying a word, just being the supporting friend that he needed to be. It was strange how similar, yet how different he was from Guy.

"You... can have it all back, if you really want it. I can start a new life from scratch. I'll buy new furniture and stuff. I mean, he was your only son."

Mrs. Berryman shook her head. "Guy wanted you to keep it, so you're keeping it."

In truth, I was afraid to keep it. I didn't want to get attached to Guy's things because that was another memory of him. Of course I would never forget him, but it was hard enough without him, living in our old house with all of his stuff still there could have made it worse. However, Guy wanted me to have it, and there was no way I would ever deny him of his dying wish.

"Are you sure?" I asked, just to make sure.

Both of Guy's parents nodded. "You need it more than we do," his dad said, and I forced a smile.

"Thank you, guys. Really."

"It's really nothing, Chris. We love you like a son."

Mrs. Berryman went into tears again, and came over to hug me. I stood up, wrapping my arms large around her small figure. "I'm so sorry," I whispered, finally letting myself cry. She held onto me tightly, letting me cry into her arms like I had done with her son through so many years before. I think that was her way of saying that she forgave me.

When we parted and left the meeting room, my best mate, Phil, was standing there in a black tuxedo and navy tie, waiting for me. I ran to him and hugged him tightly, Jonny standing awkwardly behind me. "I'm so sorry, Chris," Phil said, wrapping his arms tightly around my back. He didn't need to say anything more. We both understood each other's silence.

I pulled away from him when Jonny tapped my back, motioning that the "ceremony" was about to start. I smiled at him and turned back to Phil, who looked confused. "I'll explain later," I whispered, following Jonny to a pew in the second row from the front.

"Good afternoon, everybody. Today we are gathered not to mourn the loss of Guy Rupert Berryman, but to celebrate his life."

I zoned out a few minutes into the pastor's speech, not because I didn't care, but because I didn't want to cry anymore. I simply rested my head on Phil's shoulder and held Jonny's hand, thinking about something else, like Oasis' recently released EP, and what could be done better on it.

I guess the pastor said my name and gave me my cue to go up, but I didn't hear it. I only felt the gentle squeeze of Jonny's hand and Phil's tap on my shoulder, signaling me to go up and give my speech. Nervously, I stepped away from the only things that gave me any comfort and made my way to the podium, which I grabbed with shaking hands.

"Guy wouldn't have wanted me to recite dead words off of a silly little piece of paper," I began, already feeling stupid. "He would have wanted me to speak from my heart, with passion and conviction, as if he could hear these very words from wherever he is now."

I smiled slightly and sighed. "I think that Guy had the brightest smile of anyone I've ever met. He didn't smile very often, but when he did, he brought a beautiful light to the whole room, changing everyone's mood from whether it be a depressed blue, a shy violet, or an angered red, into a happy, bubbly yellow, almost as if he had completely painted their faces. He made every girl in the universe swoon over him, but for some reason he chose me, some nerdy bloke with a shitty job schedule and some skilled fingers when it comes to guitar." I almost laughed at the thought of swearing in a church, but I would have sounded insane, so I kept my stupid mouth shut.

"Nothing could have prepared me for that night that I ruined all of your lives. Nothing could have prepared me for the horrors of seeing that smile being ripped from my life, like a Jewish baby from her mother during the second World War. Nothing could have prepared me for the nightmares of having the accident repeating itself over and over again, life gone from his brown eyes, his screams forever lost in the silence, his soul already departed from mine." At this, I began to cry. "I wish I had known that night that it would be the last drink, the last dance, the last kiss, the last laughs, the last "I love yous" that we would ever share. I wish I hadn't been the stupidest bloody pillock in the world and just called a cab. I wish that I could go back and fix all of this, but I can't. That was the past and this is the future. May he live a happy life wherever he is. I hope to see you soon, Guy."

I couldn't say anything more, as my face was drenched in tears, so I gave up and went back to my pew. Both Jonny and Phil immediately wrapped their arms around my slumped shoulders. I gave into my tears, letting them fall from my face, and even grow in volume as my sobs grew heavier. Soon, my stomach was killing me from pressure, and I forced myself to stop.

When I looked up, people were lining up in front of Guy's coffin, waiting to say their final goodbyes. I looked to Jonny and Phil, who both motioned for me to do the same.

I sighed, standing up and walking to join the back of the line. "I really liked your eulogy," a man in front of me said. It was strange, as I had known Guy for about ten years and still didn't know half the people at his funeral.

"Thank you," I replied. He nodded at me, then turned back to the front.

The man in front of me left a small rose, and I suddenly felt guilty for not bringing anything. I just stared at Guy guiltily and sighed, stroking his cheek lightly. "I love you," I whispered, bending down to kiss his cold lips for the last time.

I turned away from the coffin and walked out of the church, Jonny and Phil following me quickly. "Chris? Are you alright?" Phil asked.

I nodded. "Will you help me move back into my house?" I asked them.

Phil bit his lip. "Do you actually have anything to move?"

"Just clothes," I replied.

Jonny nodded. "I'll help."

I smiled at him, and Phil nodded in agreement. "It should only take one trip, right?"

"Probably, I just wanted help resettling myself. Is that a word?"

Jonny giggled a bit. "I can spend the night if you want," he offered.

I smiled again. How was it that Jonny could still make me smile during a time of such peril in my life? "I'd like that."

Phil smiled. "I can stay, too, if you want."

I nodded. "Thanks, man. I really appreciate you doing this for me. That goes for both of you."

They both nodded, and we all drove back to Al's house to retrieve my stuff and clean up. We were back at Guy's old house in less than an hour.

Walking in, something felt different than usual, and it wasn't the fact that I was standing in the doorway of my house without my boyfriend standing beside me. It felt darker, more eerie, like there was another presence there that was standing there, watching me.

"I thought you'd never come back!" A familiar voice echoed through the hallway, and I flinched at the sound, at first passing it off as a hallucination. Surely he couldn't be there. Surely it was just my imagination.

I looked out the window, noticing that both Jonny and Phil were taking a drag outside. I turned back towards the hall, where I had heard the voice.

No. It couldn't be.

"Guy?"