Matthew sat in a bathroom stall, two halves of a piece of paper in his trembling hands. Roland's parents had asked him to speak at the funeral and he had tried, he tried so hard. He punched the wall in frustration, then yelped in the sudden shock of pain that raced through his already sore hand. Punching things is just what he did when he was angry, and he used to get angry so much. When he was a child, he was so angry all the time, he used to lash out at everything and anyone, he used to fight and hurt things all the time. Roland, Roland fixed him, he helped Matthew for no reason other than he just wanted to be friends with Matthew. He still got angry every now and again, but he never lashed out at people, only at things. He would punch a wall, or break a plate, something that didn't hurt anyone other than himself. That's the way it should have been. But, now Roland was...

Matthew practically screamed and began to lash out at the wall of the stall, kicking and yelling. He was covered in scrapes and bruises from all of the times he'd been angry in the last week or so, and every time he hit the wall, he would make a new one. With one, final blow he felt his knuckles split and a small trickle of blood began to run down his forearm and onto the tiled floor beneath his feet. He smudged it with his shiny black dress shoes. He hated this suit, it reminded him that he was at a funeral. He hated the speech, it reminded him he was an idiot. He hated everything about this place. It reminded him Roland was dead. Eventually, he collapsed, exhausted on the floor. He hadn't been aware that he had been crying, but now he couldn't stop the tears from rolling down his face. Roland was gone. He was angry again, he hated everything.

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Izzy wished, she wished with all her might, that she could feel something. Her mind was numb and her mouth was dry. This was the first time she had stopped crying since... Since that. She needed to feel something again, to feel like she was sad. Everyone was sad, there were tears everywhere except on Izzy's face. She needed to cry, she needed to be sad. She didn't want other's to see her and think 'Oh look at Izzy, her friend just died and she isn't even crying. The funeral is over and now she's just going back to her old, happy life.'

Truth be told, during the ceremony, she felt nothing. She had put on her black dress, and sat in the pews of the church and watched as everyone remembered... It wasn't right, it wasn't right for Roland. It wasn't... that was when Izzy knew what to do. She pulled out her phone and quickly typed out a message.
"One hour, usual place? We'll remember him our way." and hit send. Suddenly, she sobbed, looking at the screen of her phone. She had sent out four texts. One to Ricki, one to Matthew, one to Chris and a final text to Roland's phone. He'd never read the message, he'd never see their place again. He wouldn't.. anything. Izzy started to cry, huge tears streaming down her cheeks, smudging what little makeup still remained. She had never felt this awful in her life and yet the feeling of warm tears streaming down her face and the sight of the message on her screen made her smile, ever so slightly.