"We, uh... we used to call him Saint Jimmy."
I never thought I would find myself here. Speaking at a funeral. His funeral. He had us all convinced he wasn't human. Yet here we are: his mother is crying silently in the first row, and there are other adults here I don't know. Even my mom and stepdad even showed up, not that I wanted them to.
When I finish speaking I don't sit with them. I slouch over to where Michael is sitting, and slump next to him, running a finger under my collar. I can't remember the last time I was forced to wear a tie. As some of the other kids who were asked to speak go up, I lose focus. I would cry, but I'm just numb and surprised more than anything else. And maybe a little stoned. I guess it's never much of a surprise when someone from our "group" ends up dead, but this was Jimmy. He was invincible.
After everyone's saying trivial things about how missed he'll be and how sad it is he's gone so soon, we shuffle out to the graveyard where his casket's ready to be lowered into the ground. As we walk behind all the people who showed up so it would look like they gave a damn, I am reminded of the day Jimmy died. When we found him, there in the rain on the bridge. Made open casket impossible.
Michael and I leave before the whole thing actually ends so we don't have to talk to anyone afterward. My stepdad tries to talk to me, but I walk faster, pulling Michael along. Instead of going back to my house, I just drive Michael and myself over to his house. His dad travels all over the place so he's never home, and his mom died when he was three, so we'll have the house to ourselves at least. As soon as I pull up, Michael is out the door and upstairs, probably to plug into his amp and play his guitar until he can't think through the noise. Lucky bastard.
I think about playing my guitar, but instead I find myself sitting in front of a blank page in my notebook, a pen in hand. Shit. I don't want to write, but the first few verses just start flowing, and I get caught in it.
My heart is beating from me
I'm standing all alone
Please call me only
If you are coming home
Waste another year flies by
Waste a night or two
I keep writing until my hand cramps up and I can't think anymore, and then I flash back to the day I met Jimmy. My first day of high school.
A/N: Hey! New story... this one is gonna be pretty heavy and I won't do too many author's notes just because I don't have an explanation for this one. Enjoy :)
