I was just in the mood to write this…very sad

Maybe it was her fault. If only she'd been paying a bit more attention; if only she'd asked about whatever was the matter; if only she'd fixed the problem. But there were a million if onlys in everybody's mind right now; it just so happens that most of them were in her mind. She stared down- watching the perfectly smooth, emotionless face before her, hoping it would somehow gain some color and smile that grin everybody loved.

That won't happen and you know it, whispered her thoughts. She knew it wouldn't happen- couldn't happen- and maybe if she'd have gotten farther in her Dominion of the Dead training, she'd be able to bring her friend back.

There you go with the ifs again. Come now, stop the tears. It won't help anything. Mirana cursed the little voice- her own- and turned to look at the crowd of people behind her. They all saw her tear-streaked face and bit their lips, unsure of what to do. She gestured for them to sit and they did so willingly. They all stared at her and she reached a hand down and caressed the cold face. She lightly pressed the tip of her finger to one eyelid and shut it, then repeated the act to the other eye. She noticed the eyelids were black, not their normal happy pink and blue. She realized then he'd died depressed. She sniffed, holding back the new tears that were beginning to form.

She felt a gentle hand on her shoulder and turned to look at the woman next to her. Alice. When she had left, she had no idea what kind of hell he had gone through. She came back just this morning- in time for his funeral. He loved her, but Alice hadn't seen that soon enough.

They'd found him yesterday. He hadn't been to tea or work and they went in search for him. They found him lying in a bed in his house, a little blood splatter on his shirt- just over his heart.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"For what? You had no idea...that he…he loved you…"she said between sobs. The blond took the white woman in her arms and tried to say encouraging words, but ended up in tears herself. The funeral director came up to them and told the two women it was time for the burial.

Mirana touched him one last time, trying to memorize his face, his arms, his legs, his torso, his height, and everything else. When she thought she finally had it all, she took the lid of the casket and eased it closed.

"Goodbye, my old friend," she whispered, closing the lid completely. On the top, engraved in gold in the dark wood, was the name Tarrant Hightopp.