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71

*Blake*

Two Weeks Later

The sky hangs heavy with a somber hue as we gather in a large church, surrounded by gentle whispers and whimpers of sorrow. Tears glisten in the eyes of mourners, everyone dressed in black attire. I made sure to wear my all-black suit, remembering that it's Elena's favorite. 

As I glance around the crowd, a wave of emotion washes over me. There are so many people here. The weight of loss lingers in the air, suffocating in its most painful form. My teary eyes remain fixed on the casket at the front of the room, draped in beautiful flowers. The scent of fresh lilies fills the air, a haunting reminder of the fragility of life and time. 

The sun filters through the stained-glass windows, casting colorful patterns of light across the polished wooden floors. We're in a beautiful church for the funeral service— high ceilings and intricate arches that give the space a feeling of comfort and peace. But today, no amount of grandeur is sufficient to ease the heartache. 

The minister stands at the pulpit and opens with a prayer to begin the service. His voice is steady yet filled with empathy as he offers scripters of hope and peace to all of us in mourning. He speaks of kindness, warmth, and healing, things that feel impossible to grasp right now. Every word he utters feels like a gentle touch on an open wound, a reminder of the void left behind.

I can hear soft weeping, the sound of tissues dabbing at tear-stained cheeks. As the minister continues his eulogy, memories are shared, stories of kindness, laughter, and love that paint a beautiful picture of a life lost too soon.

I keep my gaze low, my eyes drawn to the ground as if searching for answers that seem forever out of reach. My heart is broken. Completly and utterly broken. 

An hour later when the minister completes his eulogy and asks for any volunteers to say a few words, I am the first to stand up. My voice quivers with emotion, but I gather the strength to face everyone in the church.  

"Today, we come together to honor and remember an extraordinary person," I begin. "In his final moments, Julian Luis Ramirez showed us the true meaning of friendship and bravery."

A lump forms in my throat, making it hard for me to continue. I pause, glancing over at James, Olivia, and Noah sitting in one of the first rows of the church. James gives me an approving nod, the fuel I need to stay composed. James was his best friend. I need to do this for both of them. 

I take a deep breath to steady my voice before continuing. "While many of you here have likely known Julian for his entire life or for years, the short few months I had the privilege of knowing him made it abundantly clear that he lived his life guided by the principles of courage and compassion, always putting others before himself. He was one of the kindest and bravest souls I've ever had the honor of knowing. Today, we gather to pay tribute to him, to celebrate the immense joy he brought into this world and the lasting impact he leaves behind."

As I speak, the few memories I have of Julian flood my mind. I remember how he broke the rules for me, giving me a flashlight to ensure I didn't have to spend the night in a dark jail cell, risking his job without a second thought. The following morning of my release, he greeted me with words of encouragement, promising that he would go above and beyond to help find Lucas, never letting the department's efforts wane. He next told me he was proud of me for being a strong-willed man and doing whatever it took to protect my girlfriend. Proud of me.

He later confessed that he heard about the absence of my father in my life from the guard who booked me, and without hesitation, offered to be there for me for any future troubles I might face. He told me he was excited to attend more of my games and to cheer me on, but sadly, he never got the chance to. And then, in the parking lot of The Grill, when I was on the verge of being consumed by panic, Julian was there. He found a way to keep me grounded, acting like a supportive father would to a son.