Disclaimer: I do not own Pretty Little Liars nor the characters found there in.
Aria was used to funerals at this point. Once you've been to a few, they become a bit monotonous. That's not to say they become boring, as you are grieving each time, it's just that they become incredibly predictable. Ezra Fitz's funeral started just as they all do.
"Ezra James Fitzgerald, 26, died March 18, 2012 at Mount Sinai Hospital in New York City. Mr. Fitzgerald was born September 23, 1986 in Coatsville, Pennsylvania to Patrick J. and Diane S. (Springer) Fitzgerald. He graduated from Coatsville High School in 2005, where he was an active member of the Book Club, Student Government, and Lacrose team. In 2009 he graduated from Hollis College with a bachelor's degree in English Literature and a minor in Education. He taught 11th grade AP English and 12th grade 21st Century Literature at Rosewood High, did a brief stint teaching at Hollis College, and then returned to Rosewood High. He was a beloved educator and chaperone for several extracurricular activities. Ezra Fitz also had a selection of published short stories and poems before his death. He is survived by his father and mother, Patrick and Diane; brother, Wesley; and girlfriend, Aria Montgomery."
Aria remained stoic through the reading of the obituary. She had, after all, helped write it while she was helping to arrange the funeral. She had been touched when Wesley suggested they include her in the "survived by" part, although now she almost wished they hadn't. There had been a few quiet gasps in the audience when her name had been read. Apparently not everyone had been filled in on the town gossip.
Aria couldn't take her eyes off the preacher as he started the ceremony. She kept watching his facial expressions, trying to tell if he felt any genuine sorrow for the man he was commemorating. It seemed wrong that he should be the one to share Ezra's life story when he had never even met him, but there was nothing she could do about it. He had seemed nice enough during the funeral preparation, it just seemed to her that Ezra deserved something better. The man broke Aria out of her reverie with a short prayer before beginning his real speech.
"Today we are gathered to remember the incredibly short, but incredibly impactful life of Ezra James Fitz. To some of you he was a son, a brother, a boyfriend, to some a friend, a classmate, a teacher, and to five of you, on the night he died, he was a hero. Yes, if you somehow missed that information, Ezra died after saving five young women from a masked assailant, giving his life for theirs'. And as important as that sacrifice was, I am not the one to tell you about it. We have beautiful young women who will be taking the podium after I finish to share more of that story, but for now we do not want to focus on the death, but on the life that he lived."
"Ezra, as you all know, was kind and caring, but with a bit of an adventurous side. His mother, Diane, told me of a story from when he was just a child. He couldn't have been more than 4, she said, when she found him on top of his treehouse. 'What are you doing? Get down from there!' she yelled as she ran to him, but before she could reach him, he took a vine hanging from one of the tree limbs and tried to swing on the vine to his mother. Of course, being a four year old, he couldn't really judge the sturdiness of the vine, so he came plummeting towards the ground and, again, being a four year old, started crying. Diane ran to him, 'Where does it hurt? Are you okay?" Well, Ezra looked up at her with big tears in his eyes and sniffled his little nose and said 'Why can Tarzan swing but I can't?" He didn't even care that he had fallen from 12 feet in the air, he just wanted to know why Tarzan could do things he couldn't." The crowd let out a little chuckle at the story and Aria looked down at Diane. She was wiping tears from her eyes, but with a faint smile on her lips as she looked back through her memory.
"Now, when Ezra got a little older, he began to have a penchant for troublemaking, as most boys do once they reach their teen years. Wesley told me about a time after his parents had divorced and their mother was out of town when Ezra was left in charge of the house and of his brother. The one thing they had to do before Diane got home was clean the kitchen floor, but of course, being a teenage boy, Ezra didn't want to mop it. So, he came up with the idea to spray the floor using the pull out faucet on the sink, squirt some soap on it, and then strap sponges to their feet and skid around on the floor. Now, I've heard of that in movies, but I've never heard of it in real life. But Ezra and Wesley successfully accomplished their skating/cleaning… at first. After the first few minutes Wesley hit the ground, busting his lip wide open. But, of course, no one wants to take their kid brother to the hospital for stitches, mom would find out about that for sure, so Ezra fixed it as best he could with Band-Aids, which tend to not stick so well to the mouth. And that's why Wesley still has a scar."
Again, there were a few giggles in the crowd. Aria couldn't bring herself to smile though. There was so much of his life that she didn't get to witness. Just two short years were all they had together. Two years out of twenty-six. She was supposed to have him for the rest of his life. Tears started to stream steadily, but quietly down her cheeks; the first time she cried since the hospital. She had been numb and unfeeling, she had forced herself to hold it in, and at points she had somehow been too upset to cry, but now, thinking about the life together they'd lost, she just had to let some of the pain out, and that pain took the form of tears.
"Of course, as we grow, different people enter our lives and our stories stop focusing on our family, but on our friends, and if we are lucky, that one special person we want to spend forever with. Well, they didn't get to see a forever, but Ezra did find a special girl to spend his time with before his passing, and she had some stories of her own. There was the time Aria started her first photography job and had the jitters. He put on a full on goofy photo shoot in his sweatpants and silly faces so she could practice taking pictures. Then there was the time she came to his apartment and found him cursing at a boiling pot of burnt sauce on the stove and when she asked why she found out he had been practicing cooking in his spare time so he could surprise her with a home cooked meal for their next date."
Aria's cry became more aggressive now. How was she going to survive in this world without him? Those stupid stories she had shared with the preacher just reminded her that not only did she need him and need the strength he gave her, but he also added color and happiness to her life. So what if he hadn't tried to learn to cook for her? She would be no worse off. But he did, and it meant the world to her. Those things would never happen again. He would never write her another B-26 poem. He would never try to befriend her father again. And suddenly she wished that she had taken them up the offer to give her own speech during the ceremony. Of course, she knew she couldn't. She would never be able to make it through without completely losing it and she would be rambling on and on about memories that meant nothing to anyone but her.
"I'm sure all of you could add more stories to my sermon, as Ezra touched us all in different and precious ways, so please, take time to reflect on your own memories of him while Marie Sheffield sings for us. Afterwards, Spencer Hastings will give a brief talk about Ezra's last days." The preacher took a seat and a woman stepped towards the mike. When Aria had declined the chance to speak she had suggested Spencer as a fill-in. Someone needed to thank him, publicly, for the sacrifice he had made for her friends and for her and who better to do that than the queen of speeches. Spencer called the day before and offered to read Aria what she had come up with, but Aria really hadn't been in the mood for it at the time. Now she wished she had let Spencer read it. Currently Aria had no idea to expect. All she knew was that it would make her cry.
Finally, the woman ended her song and stepped down from the pulpit and Spencer took her place. She looked out over the crowd until her eyes locked with Aria's. She didn't have to say anything, didn't have to do anything, but somehow the message was communicated by eye contact alone. "This is for you as much as for him," her eyes said. Then, Spencer straightened her dress and cleared her throat. "Most of you probably don't know who I am. My name is Spencer Hastings and I was a student in Ezra Fitz's English class. Normally, I would have no reason to be up here speaking to you. I would be sitting in the crowd, a slightly used tissue in my hand thinking about what a good teacher he was and how I hope the replacement makes class as fun as he did. But that's not what I'm thinking about. All I can think when I hear the name Ezra Fitz is: 'I owe him my life.' You see, I was one of the people that was on that rooftop in New York, staring down the barrel of a gun, desperately holding on to my friend Aria's arm, and feeling my heart beat out of my chest. I was on that rooftop in New York, when, out of nowhere Ezra burst through the stairwell door and tackled the man threatening me and my best friend's lives."
Spencer's eyes glistened and you could tell she was beginning to go off script. "Earlier, Mr. Peterson called Ezra a hero, and I agree. That is the number one word I would use to describe him, but not just because he took a fatal bullet for us, because honestly, he was a hero long before that. He was a hero when he helped me with my college essay. He was a hero when he tutored my friend Emily. He was a hero when he stepped up to the plate and helped raise a little boy named Malcolm. He was a hero when Aria told him her deepest darkest secrets and he loved her just the same. He was a hero when he tried to fix Wesley's busted lip. And truth be told, those are the best kinds of heroes. Everyone wants to have a meaningful heroic death, but Ezra Fitz lived a heroic life, and I think that's something we should all try to do. So that's what I want to thank Ezra for. Thank you, not just for saving me and my friends, but saving everyone here, a little bit every day, just by being you."
Aria was too caught up in her own emotions to survey the crowd at the end of Spencer's speech, but she was sure that if she had, she wouldn't have seen a dry eye in the audience. There certainly weren't any on her row. Spencer shuffled her papers and walked down the two steps from the pulpit to the floor, but before she took her seat she leaned over Aria and wrapped her in a hug. A sob ripped through Aria's body and the weeping was audible to everyone in the otherwise silent room. "Love you," Spencer whispered into Aria's ear before she let go and returned to her seat.
The preacher returned to the front of the building and offered yet another prayer before offering an invitation to come to Dianne's house for food and company after the final viewing. Then, one by one, each person walked down their front row and offered hugs and condolences before looking in the casket one last time. Many people skipped Aria, and she didn't blame them. She didn't recognize most of them, anyway. But many people gave her truly comforting and caring hugs. She had never been hugged so many times and by so many people she didn't know in her life. Then her family came through, promising to wait for her in the car, and her friends asking if there was anything at all she needed. "Are you guys coming to the repass?" She whispered to them as they walked down the row. "If you want us to, we'll be there," Emily said as she pulled back from hugging Mrs. Fitzgerald. Hanna and Spencer nodded emphatically. "Thank you," Aria mouthed back.
Then came a surprising face. "Holden!" Aria scream-whispered into his neck as he gave her a warm hug.
"I saw it on the news and I figured your friends and family would be here, but I thought 'hey, another friendly face couldn't hurt, so…. here I am."
Aria was touched. "Thank you so much."
Once the room emptied, Aria stood alone with Mr. and Mrs. Fitzgerald, Wesley, and two women she assumed to be Ezra's grandmothers. She didn't know what to do. Was she supposed to leave? Should she wait and walk out with the casket? Should she be offering her condolences to his family? She didn't know, so she just stayed close to Wesley. "Take a moment to say your final goodbyes. When you're done, we will close and secure the casket and we'll all move to the burial site," a man from the funeral home told them. Wesley pushed her towards the casket, urging her to go first.
She had avoided seeing him before the ceremony, but Aria couldn't avoid it any longer. This was her last time getting to look at Ezra in the flesh and she didn't want to miss the opportunity completely. She let out a deep breath and walked towards the coffin. The funeral homes always try to make the deceased look natural, but it rarely works. She could see the make up on his face and he looked so… empty. To others he probably looked fine, but she knew each tiny intricate detail of his beautiful face, and right now, he didn't look peaceful and he didn't look like he was asleep. If he was asleep he would have a small smile, like a laugh was about to escape his lips, but the funeral home people didn't know that and probably couldn't replicate it if they did, so instead his face just seemed… empty. Empty of happiness. Empty of life. Empty of… him. So Aria reached into the coffin and touched his hand one more time, then turned away and refused to look back.
Once the others had said their goodbyes the funeral home people came over and sealed the casket. The pall-bearers came back into the building and joined Wesley and Mr. Fitzgerald in carrying the casket out to the hearse, while Aria followed along with Diane and the grandmothers.
This was kind of a tricky chapter to do. I had to do some research to figure out when Ezra would have graduated, what city he would have been from, and all that jazz. Plus I had to make sure that my eulogy and obituary were realistic. So, moral of the story is, if you think something is wrong or unrealistic, please let me know. And as always, you're thoughts and opinions are always welcome.