Those you've known
And lost, still walk behind you
All alone
Their song still seems to find you

They call you
As if you knew their longing –
They whistle through the lonely wind, the long blue shadows falling

-Spring Awakening "Those You've Known"


It was the Christmas Eve of 1997.

The bright stars shone from the depths of the still velvet blue night. From the look of the sky alone, it could havebeen spring already. The cold weather was sharp and biting, however, and Mark trudged through the thick snow, wrapping his coat around him tightly, until he reached the six graves. In front of each of them, he placed a rose, one for April, for Angel, Collins, Roger and Mimi.

He missed them so goddamn much.

All Mark had left of them were the graves, half-believed prayers, and the memories he cherished so much. He could practically visualize them, he thought. It was as if Angel could have strutted by at any moment, with her vivacious attitude, Collins' hand around her waist. Or Roger could be back at the Loft, playing Musetta's Waltz for the thousandth time while Mimi was smiling demurely, gently playing with his curls, big brown eyes full of love. He could even imagine April smiling like the smartass she was at him...

To remember back to them hurt like hell, he realized. Sometimes he caught himself imagining they should have never met, to spare him the pain. It sometimes felt like his heart was being ripped when he had to see most of his friends die before they had even turned thirty.

They had deserved a life. They had deserved the best life that could be given to them. His friends had been such vibrant, colorful people. They were the type of people who could brighten up a room with a smile and a laugh.

He felt them everywhere, anywhere. Their presence was so strong. When he passed an alleyway, he thought of that night that Angel and Collins had met only a few years before... When he heard a guitar being played, he thought of Roger. When he saw someone dancing, he thought of Mimi. And sometimes,when he was alone, he could practically see April's eyes staring blankly at the ceiling, the blood from her wrists on the floor…

No matter how much it pained him, he refused to let them go. Some people tried to convince him it was not healthy to dwell on the past. But Mark didn't care. He let their memories guide his actions in every possible way. In this way, Mark said to himself, they would never truly die. He would not let their memory fade in such a way. They were too alive to ever really die.

Welcome tears sprung to his eyes. He welcomed his sadness because, in a way, it kept their memory living. He breathed in shakily. He had needed them so much…and he still needed them so much. And no matter how much theirmemory, their spirit was with them, it would not be enough.

They had left him, and far too young.


Thank my beta Mimi. (Not that Mimi, d'oh ;) and thank you for reading.

And yes, I know the title's been taken before. I'm sorry, and I don't mean to plagarise your story, seriously.