Sweatshirts in July *Solby*

July 13th

19 days 

 The parents of Sam Golbach waited no time to have the funeral. It was learned that they had everything already planned in preparations for their son's inevitable early death. It mad the whole ordeal a thousand times more hard for Colby. His mother and him were invited, Mrs. Golbach even asking Colby to give a short speech about their son, to which the brunette agreed to. So now he was standing in a a black button down shirt with a white bow tie in front of Sam's family and few friends he had made before he constantly wore that sweatshirt Colby had back at home. All eyes were on him, Katrina and his mother sat in the front row. He kept his eyes on them. They seemed to be his rock, both understanding his pain. He didn't prepare a speech, wanting it to come straight from the heart but with the casket open in front of him he wished he would have written something. He wished he had something to crumple or to look at, as he avoided the corpse below him. He took a deep breath and hoped what ever came out of his mouth wasn't a sob, 

  "I haven't known Sam very long. I just happened to have a chance to work with one of my mother's patience for the summer. My only job was to sit in his room and talk. I think I can confidently say we were best friends, though I am sure Sam would disagree. He knew everything about me and I learned a little about him. His dream was to be an artist, I never once saw him with out his note book or a crayon. He changed me in ways I will never understand, and it breaks me to know that in the end the voices won. I so desperately wanted to save him, and I'm sorry. I wish I could have done more." 

  Colby walked down as tears threatened to spill down his heated cheeks. It hurt to know that he could have saved him, if only, if only. Colby sat next to Katrina who leaned into him for comfort. Both of them shared similar guilt, their hearts weighed down by it, "Colby, there was nothing more you could have done." Katrina repeated the same lie his mother has been feeding him. Both Katrina and Colby had spoken to Mrs. Brock about their feelings, both given the same response, "It takes time just remind yourself and each other that it wasn't you fault and that their was nothing you could have done." It seemed to Colby that Katrina had been better at convincing herself than Colby was. 

  The funeral was done, Sam was buried six feet under yet Colby could still hear his voice, 

  "This is your fault Brock." Sam deadpanned. Colby knew it was all made up in his head but it still pained him to hear his worst fears come true. He knew it was his fault and so did Sam, 

   "There was so much you could have done. So many signs you should have caught on to. Have you even read my journal? So much for being my best friend, you let me die!" The snarl in Sam's voice made his head hurt. It was his fault, it was his fault, it was his fault. His head played different scenarios of what Colby could have done, each ending with Sam alive and healthy tormenting him. 

  It was his fault Samuel Golbach died and he had to live with the consequences. 

A/N: Poor Colby am I right? Can you guys what I have planned? Thank you so much for all the votes and comments and reads, they mean the world to me!! ~Nightmare