Darry shouldn't have let you go. I didn't think he would but he thought it was right. It was right, but he still shouldn't have let you go.

It was like seeing you at your folks' funeral all over again. All you did was bawl. It was sort of like a flashback in a way. Sodapop was crying too and Darry was holding it all in with a strong arm around your shoulder. His muscles were as tense as I've ever seen them. You clung to the edge of the old pew you sat at in between your brothers. Steve was next to Sodapop and Two-Bit was next to Steve. Two-Bit was a little drunk but he had himself under control. I almost wish he'd been wasted. Seeing him so serious, so quiet, it wasn't right. Steve was just Steve though. He reminded me of Dally right then and there, which scares me. He had his arms crossed over his chest and a look of pure hatred as he stared up at the priest.

"He don't know nothin' 'bout Johnny. He can pretend he did all he wants, but he don't know nothing," Steve murmured loud enough to earn himself a few glances.

I s'pose Dally would of sat next to Two-Bit. Or maybe he would've stood in the back with a lit cigarette in his hand. I could almost see him, almost. Just standing there, leaning against the wall with one foot kicked back behind him. I could almost see him there, but I didn't.

My parents were there too. I was a little shocked. Just my luck, huh? They wait until I'm dead to acknowledge me. I might've laughed if I hadn't still heard your distinct sobbing in the back of my mind.

Only the gang watched my closed casket. You were looking anywhere but. At the ceiling, at the floor, staring through the stain glass windows depicting iconic images of Christ.

Everyone else was looking at you, though. I don't think you could tell. I don't think you could see anything but blurry colors through all the tears in you eyes.

There weren't too many people there. Tim and Curly Shepard showed, but they sat in the very back and didn't stay for the entire ceremony. A few kids from the church fire came with their parents. That guy—I think his name was Jerry, you know, the one who couldn't get into the church—he came too. He was staring at you, his face twisted like he'd never seen anything more desperate. I hated it.

The ceremony was too long. It was longer than it should've been. The priest announced a private burial. The gang started objecting and Steve was ready to beat my old man to the ground but Darry kept you guys together. My parents only did it to be spiteful. They always were. I'm glad you didn't go, though. You wouldn't have been able to handle it.

It's a good thing Darry didn't let you go to Dallas's funeral, if you could call it that. It barely was one.