The dancer boy

The dancer boy 18

Kenny's pov:
Today is Brett's funeral. I am speaking there and I am scared my eulogy isn't good enough for Brett and mrs Evans. I'm so scared about what might happen, but Hayley is gonna come with me so whatever happens, she'll be by my side.
"Thank you for coming kenny."
"It's my pleasure, mrs Evans. I hope your feeling okay about the situation, I, myself feel partly responsible for it."
"It's okay, Kenny. I know you miss him too. Even after what happened that day, I'm sure you miss him a lot."
"I do miss him a lot. Thank you, mrs Evans."
Oh god. That was way harder then I thought. This only means the whole funeral will actually be worse. And it will keep getting worse.
*during the funeral* still Kenny's pov:
I just sat there in silence as mrs Evans said her eulogy to Brett and the way she talked about him was very powerful. It made me think about how precious life is, and how quickly it can be taken from you. It was really sad, but I think mrs Evans wrote a few sad books and films in her lifetime, because it sounds like she has. Okay, now it's time for my eulogy. I breath heavily as I walk up to the podium. I say to myself, break a leg mate.
"Brett was my best friend. We had known each other since we were four. We went through school together in Boston until we were seven. Brett and his mom had to move away because of Brett's dad. And, mrs Evans, I hope you don't mind this, but Brett's dad and Martha Evans' husband was a drunken idiot who always got pulled over by police, and always hurt Brett and mrs Evans. That's why they moved here, to Canada, to get away from Michael Evans. One year after they moved here, on the news it said that a man driving to Canada lost control of his car and went head on into an oil truck and died almost instantly. It comes across as quite a coincidence that Brett and his father died the same way. But Brett was driving to Boston, to find me. Brett must've been thinking about his dad during the puberty kinda time, as when I moved to Canada in year nine, Brett was the most popular bully in the ninth grade. He bullied people during the puberty kind of time, but from then it just became Brett. We made a promise fourteen years ago that if I didn't tell anyone his secret, he wouldn't tell anyone mine. That's the reason we are gathered here today. That face that I accidentally broke the promise first, then Brett broke it as well. I think we, as powerful boys or mature men, if you will, we could have handled the situation better. But it didn't end well. I am regretting everyday since that day me and Brett had that fight because he shouldn't be dead right now. I should. So, if I haven't been too long, I'd like to say a couple more things. This is my salute to Brett Evans: a thousand words can't bring you back. I know because I've tried. Neither will a thousand tears. I know because I've cried. Thanks"
By now I was crying so much. My voice was shaky. My head was a mess. Everyone was looking at me like, woah! He is a good eulogy writer. People looked really shocked to hear my voice talk in this manner, because I have made bad choices with alcohol and that kinda bad stuff in the past, and so I would always dance it off. But now is not a time for dance. It's a time to mourn the beautiful Life that was taken from us three days ago. Goodbye Brett, I'll miss you forever, man.