I decided I wrote too many humorous, happy, fluffy stories, so I decided to try my luck at angst, hurt, sad ones. I feel that I have light-years of space for improvement, so don't be afraid to criticize and flame on this. Of course, if you like it, I would love to hear what you like so I know how to improve. I might just do this a one-shot, or I might add other chapters, but this is just a test. If I'm no good at writing angst, then I'll just stick to fluff and humor. Note: The story is told from Astrid's point of view, is a modern AU, and both Hiccup and Astrid are thirteen.

Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III can't be dead. There's no way he could be. He wouldn't just leave me, not like this. Yet here lies his body, laid on the hospital bed, covered in bruises and his own blood. The sight just makes me sick. I knew his father abused him, but beating Hiccup to death? It wasn't possible. I must be dreaming, but he was real. I could touch him, my hand didn't go through him when I put my hand on his chest, hoping for a heartbeat.

Nothing. The wounds bled no more, he had taken his last ragged breath. Punctured lungs from broken ribs, they said. He couldn't be dead though. He had too much will to live, to conquer, he was too energetic and stubborn to die. He told me he'd die at a ripe old age after a long life married to me, and I believed him. But here lay his unmoving body, a sign that he was no more.

There would be no more midnight 'I love you' texts, no more goofy grins, or lopsided smiles. No more passing notes in school, no more listening to music whilst cuddled on the floor helping each other with homework. No more laughter, no more care-free smiles, no more happiness. No more anything, for he was my life, and my will to live died with him.

How could I have let such a thing happen? How could I have let the love of my life get killed on my watch? I should have said something, gone to the police, done anything to stop this. But I didn't. I don't even know why I didn't tell, but I think it was mostly to do with the interesting fact that he loved his dad, no matter how hard Stoic hit him. He believed until his death that it would all get better someday, someday his dad would stop hitting him and he would have at least one parent. He would have never forgiven himself if his dad was put in jail. Lucky him he's not here to see his dad serve his lifetime sentence.

Mom's trying to get me to go to car, but I'm not responding. I am in shock and everything seems to be going too fast. I let her lead me, almost dragging me, out to the car. I don't sleep well, instead I stare at the ceiling, thinking of Hiccup and all the good times we had together.

Hiccup's funeral is terrible. He would have hated it. Everyone was saying how it was shocking that no one stood up for a poor, abused boy. They all seemed to be talking about his death, not all the wondrous things he did for all the others.

It's my turn to speak. I grab the piece of paper my mom gave me to read, and head to the front. Reaching the podium, I pre-read the speech my mom prepared for me. I huff in disgust and crumple the paper up, throwing it over my shoulder. Gasps erupt all around me and people start muttering. I cleared my throat to gain their attention, and start. "All of you here are saying that someone else should have said something, it was someone else's fault he's dead. All of us are at fault. We all saw him bruised, sometimes every day. You lot keep talking about his death. Well, I'm here to talk about his life. Hiccup, a boy who was in pain every day of his life, was always happy. I never, in all my nine years of knowing him, saw him cry, or look sad, or mope about, or wallow in self-pity, or act depressed. He always had a smile on his face, no matter how much pain he was in. He was there for me when I needed it most, but I was never there for him. He made me happy when I was sad, but I could not do the same for him. No matter how bad my day was, he could always make it better by just his lopsided smile. He was there to let me know that someone loved me, even in my darkest days. He saw a side of me that I kept hidden, and loved me for who I was, and who I would become. He was there for us all. No matter how insignificant our problems were, he would always be there for us, to lean on, to guide and support. We must remember him for who we was, and would have become, not for how he died. Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third, you will be missed by all."

I didn't even know where the words were coming from, but by the time I was done, I couldn't see through my tears. I sat down amid the stunned audience. I don't know what they expected me to say, but that probably wasn't it. Mom stares at me; I can feel her eyes boring into my skull. That was the most I had said to anyone in about four days.

They lower Hiccup into the ground, and I can't throw the dirt on him. I don't know why, but my body just won't do it. Tears cascade down my cheeks and we watch as dirt is put on his casket. Hiccup's tombstone is just like Hiccup himself, plain and simple, but friendly and warm at the same time. The picture didn't quite get his lopsided smile quite right, and there were places it is chipped already. But it is beautiful, in that Hiccupy way. We put a bouquet of dandelions at the tombstone, his favorite flowers, and left.

Wahh! I was crying when I wrote this, so if I have made you cry too (hopefully not from terrible writing), I'd love to hear about it. I think this first chapter was a bit cramped, but immensely powerful. Lots of feels (hopefully) in this, but like I mentioned before, I probably won't make a novel out of this, maybe three chapters max.

~Yours in Insanity, Joan McCreedy