Raindrops started to fall on the hard concrete outside the chapel. There were swishing sounds heard as a multitude of people opened their umbrellas at once. Sniffling and consolations were in abundance, as loved ones hugged one another and cried. One face in particular though, was stony, with pain shining in red rimmed eyes. The owner of the face was Barry Barry, who had lost his first and only love just days ago. The emotional wounds still open, raw and painful. The realization that this was real, that he had really lost him hit him the moment he watched those eyes go dull. After all, he was there. He watched Jack running towards him in the rain. He watched Jack as he ran into the clear road when a car came out of nowhere and ran him over before driving off, as if nothing had happened. He held Jack as the beautiful light left the piercing blue eyes he loved so much. He felt his shivering body go limp as his small hand fell from his cheek. Barry heard Jack's last breath leave his lungs, escaping from the mouth where the smile he treasured once was. Tears flowed freely, dripping from his wide, disbelieved eyes onto Jack's now cold cheeks. He stroked Jack's long wet hair as he cried.

Of course, Barry had considered his options. Suicide? No. Jack would never forgive him for cutting a wonderful life so short. What about carry on living, permanently scarred? That was a near enough impossible task. Would he ever find love again? Surely not. Barry would never kiss another boy without thinking of Jack's gentle lips moving on his. He would not be able to look at him without seeing Jack's beautiful face. He would never be able to hold another boy while they slept without thinking of the soft, contented sighs that Jack let escape from his mouth as he relaxed against Barry's strong arms. He would also never be able to stand the voice of another male. Nothing would ever be able to replace Jack's lovely, cheerful voice. No, Barry would not find love again.

Soon, it was time to lift the coffin. Jack's father, older brother, Barry and a best friend from football were the pallbearers. The raindrops on the beautiful mahogany coffin looked an awful lot like Barry's wet tears as they ran down his boyfriends cheeks that night, mixing with the few that slipped from his dull eyes. The coffin was slid into the back of an elegant hearse, and everyone headed toward the graveyard in which Jack would be laid to rest. Barry sat in the front seat of the hearse, staring out the window silently. He was thinking about the funeral service that had taken place. The sweet perfumes of flowers in the air, the flattering picture of Jack that was propped up on an easel and the opened casket. Barry painfully remembered the way Jack looked so peaceful and angelic, and how he looked like he was sleeping. He wished he could have just reached out and kissed his soft lips to wake him from his slumber, then everything would be okay again. Barry thought back on the things that Jack had said to him on the day of his death. He remembered what Jack had made them for breakfast, the book he was determined to finish, the look Jack had given him when he told a particularly bad joke. All these small and simple, yet valuable memories, he'd never forget. The driver then pulled up at the graveyard. Barry stepped out of the hearse and went round to the back, ready to take up Jack's weight on his shoulders for one last time.

He wasn't really listening as the Priest ran through his lines. He sounded like he cared, even though he didn't know the boy he was praying for. Barry gave Mrs McAllister a hug as she sobbed. The two of them had gotten quite close. Olivia had always seen Barry as a third son. "Why? Why is my baby dead?!" She cried as her eyes fell on the coffin containing her youngest son. Barry wondered the same thing in his head, staring at the coffin as it was lowered into it's final resting place. When the time came, Barry took his place in the short line of loved ones that were the closest to Jack. They took it in turns to throw a small handful of dirt over the coffin. Barry held a beautiful red rose that he had picked himself in one hand and some dirt in his other hand. When the line was no more, It was Barry's turn. He knelt down and dropped the dirt onto the coffin. He then kissed the rose, whispering "I love you so much Jack, I will never forget you." Before he let it fall. It landed perfectly on top of the slightly dirty coffin. Barry then stood back as the gravediggers filled the hole with more dirt. Everyone except Barry then started to walk away slowly from the now filled grave. Barry was then alone. He sat down beside the new smooth, polished gravestone.

Jack McAllister
A loving son, brother, friend and partner.
You will be missed dearly until we get to meet again.
17/07/1996 - 21/08/2013

Barry silently mourned over his loss. Tears slipped down his face along with the light rain falling from the sky. He looked up, accusing the heavens, "How dare you take him. How dare you. He didn't need to go. He should have died peacefully in bed when he was old and grey, surrounded by loved ones!". He grew more angry with every word. "But no, you took him now. He was cold, freezing in that rain!. You've taken a handsome boy before his time. You should be ashamed…". Barry lifted his fist slightly and punched the ground, leaning carefully against the gravestone. He sighed as he shut his eyes, instantly picturing his boyfriend. He mentally memorized him, never wanting to forget his beautiful face. He'd never stop missing him. He loved Jack, forever and always.