[b]Empty[/b] The mass of people gathered in the area, totaling 78. We were all here for the same somber occasion. Someone had passed, then someone else had. I remained there, sitting still. My face set in an emotionless expression. "He was so young... It's a tragedy." People always said those things. But they weren't there when it happened. They don't understand. They didn't walk in as he- As he shot himself in the head. Only I was there. .357 Magnum revolver, 23 years old. Double Action, wooden handle. I couldn't stand it. I wasn't angry, sad, depressed. I looked up and saw that the priest wanted me talk. I walked up. "James was a great kid. He was my friend. I- I still remember the day I met him in Pre-K. We, uhh, well, we sat there talking about Transformers: Cybertron, this show we'd discovered. We were young, but we realized how important our friendship was. We always helped each other out. When he got beat over the head with a bike lock, I was at the hospital with him most of my after-school hours. When I got slashed with that knife, he did the same. We watched each other's backs. Then his Dad died. He changed. He became detached, but we were more than friends, we were-" I begin to choke up. I only manage to say one last statement. "We were family." I step down and walk back next to my mother, and they lower the casket into the ground. I didn't cry. I just sat there. Feeling nothing. Just.... Empty. Empty. [i]Our hearts still ache with sadness And secret tears still flow What it meant to lose you No one can ever know[/i]