Emma's POV

Dear Diary,

I wonder if it is at all humanly possible to bring Sean back to life. I mean, yes, I know that sounds so impractical, but I miss him dearly. Why? Why was his life taken? It was taken on the account of me.

I wish I could think deeply longer, but I can't. Mom is calling me. It's time for Sean's funeral.

Love,

Emma

~~

Dear Diary,

I just got home. I've never sobbed so much in my life. I never have seen so many people from school all crying. I never knew Sean was actually as liked as he was. Surely no one acted like they liked him during the school year.

Oh, God, this is just terrible. First everyone arrived at the funeral home. Sean's mother was sitting in the front sobbing into Tracker's arms. Craig came with Joey and Angela. I saw Jimmy standing with his parents. Spinner and Kendra with their parents. Ashley with her mother, Toby with his father. JT and his mom. Liberty and her father. Paige and her father, older brother? I wasn't sure. Manny came with her parents. Ellie and her Mom. Marco and his parents. Gosh, it seemed as if the entire school was there. I felt so happy for Sean, and then I looked up towards the front of the funeral home. He was lying down in his coffin, his home until the earth explodes. His eyes were closed ands he laid there so peaceful. My knees suddenly went weak and gave out and I almost fell. Mom and yes, Mr. Simpson both grabbed an arm of mine and helped me to a chair where I fell into Mom's arms and cried. For the entire half hour we were at the funeral home all I did was cry.

Then we left, the bearers (Jimmy, Marco, Spinner, Tracker, and I think his Uncle) carried the coffin out of the home and into the back of the hearse. I saw tears forming in all their eyes. As did the tears form in mine. The coffin was put into the back of the hearse and everyone got in his or her cars. We followed in the funeral line. I sat in the back of Mom's car staring out the window. I didn't want to talk, I didn't want to listen to Mom and Mr. Simpson talk, I didn't want to hear music. I wanted to be like The Rolling Stones song. I wanted everything to be painted black. The color I was filled with inside. A blue heart and the rest of me was coal black.

He had a beautiful catholic style funeral. Yes, beautiful. Happy? Never. I sobbed during the songs. The songs touched me. The priest was an awesome speaker. He spoke about Sean as if he knew Sean his entire life (maybe he did, I don't know). We then had speakers. Sean's Uncle, and brother. I hadn't told you this but I was actually approached to speak. I couldn't. I knew I would get up there and just sob my heart out. I wouldn't speak at all.

So after the service, we all head for the graveyard. Which you know, it's so awesome to see your boyfriend or well I don't even know any longer be put six feet into the ground. We all tossed a single rose onto his coffin before the priest did some sort of blessing over the coffin. It was slowly lowered to the bottom. I had the urge to scream and jump in the ground with him. But I knew for one that I would look like a fool, I end up living anyway, and Sean would be annoyed.

After the funeral, everyone goes back to Tracker's home. Where refreshments are set up. I guess it was suppose to make us all happy. Not me. Not many people looked very happy. Sean's mother was drinking on the couch. Tracker was just sitting on a chair in the corner of the living room. Everyone else mingled around rather quietly and depressed.

" Em, give me a hug," Craig said coming up to me.

I smiled weakly and leaned into his arms. Craig rubbed his hands on my back to comfort me. "Thank you."

"It's no problem, trust me," Craig whispered. We broke out of our hug. Craig looked as if he were about to snivel any second.

"Where's the bathroom?" I asked.

" Upstairs, first door on the left," Craig told me.

" Thanks," I whispered. As I made my way to the stairs, Jimmy approached me.

He looked full of sympathy and full of sorrow, "Emma, I don't know how to say this."

I just stared at him waiting for him to continue.

" The things that have happened to Sean and I- well- I just want you to know how truly sorry I am for everything that I've said to him. And I hope that sometime you'll talk to me," Jimmy apologized.

" Jimmy, don't apologize to me. I'm not Sean. Yeah, I'll talk to you. But only because I think Sean wouldn't mind," I admitted. Jimmy nodded his head.

" Guess I deserved that," he mumbled and punched his hand walking away. I headed up the stairs again when Manny stopped me.

" Emma, are you okay?" she asked. Manny's entire face was tear-stained and her eyes were red and puffy.

" As okay as I'm gonna get," I whispered. Manny hugged me.

" I'm so sorry Em," she apologized.

" Why is everyone saying sorry to me? Why isn't everyone around his mother?" I asked. Manny shrugged.

" We all figure Sean liked you more than his mother," Manny admitted. A small smile formed upon my face.

I shook my head and ran up the stairs. As I opened the bathroom door, I noticed a door that was slightly cracked. On the front of the door, it said, "STAY OUT" on a sign. I immediately recognized the handwriting. I looked down to make sure no one was coming and made my way slowly into the room.

It was Sean's bedroom. Everything looked as if he had been living in there for the past week and a half. His bed was still unmade, his desk had papers thrown across it, he had piles of clothes on the floor, magazines everything, it looked as if someone were living in there.

I walked over to his bed and sat down. The room smelt like him. On the table next to his bed there was a picture of the two of us on our first date and the Valentine's Day card I had given him.

" Oh Sean," I cried. I picked up the picture and stared at him. I noticed a composition notebook sticking out a little bit from under his bed. I slowly picked it up and looked at it. It said nothing on the front. I slowly opened it. There was a date. It read-

9-15-02

I'm not quite sure how to put this. I, Sean Cameron am keeping a journal. My social worker says I need to keep a journal to let my emotions out. Yeah, whatever, I said it too. I saw Emma today; she looked twice as beautiful as she ever has before. I miss her so badly. I wish she'd just take me back. I doubt it. I don't deserve her. She deserves better. I'd talk longer but, well, I have to work on a project Simpson assigned. So I'll ttly.

Ciao,

Sean

Tears began to fall down my face as I read it. I had treated him so poorly and he was talking about me looking beautiful.

"Hello?" a voice came. I jumped and saw Tracker.

" I'm so sorry," I stammered quickly and stood up. Tracker smiled.

" Don't be," he assured. "Sean wouldn't mind. Whats that?"

" Um," I began. I fessed up. "Sean's journal."

Pain entered Tracker's eyes and he nodded. "Yeah," he went silent for a few minutes. "DO you want it?"

" Don't you? You're his family," I whispered.

" Yeah, but Sean would rather you have his journal," Tracker admitted rather amused. He opened Sean's closet and pulled out Sean's infamous jean jacket. "This is for you. He didn't wear it to the dance, he had worn his leather one."

" For me?" I stammered.

" Yeah, he'd want you to have it, trust me," Tracker said. I nodded. I slowly walked over and accepted the jacket. I immediately put it on, I felt warm inside. I felt feelings I hadn't felt. It felt as if the presence of Sean was around me and he was warming me, telling me that it would in fact be okay.

"Thank you," I said in almost a whisper. "I better be going downstairs."

I headed for the door. "Emma, wait." I stopped. "I know you feel really crappy. But don't doubt for a second that you aren't the best thing that ever happened to Sean. Because you are. He use to say so himself."

Sean said I was the best thing that ever happened to him. I like the way he told me. I was just his favorite mistake.

Goodnight,

Emma

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THAT'S RIGHT PEOPLE! THAT'S THE END! I'm sure most people have lost interest by now, but for those of you who enjoy the story, here it is. The last chapter. Thanks so much for being a fan and reading. It meant a lot.

It's 10 in the morning, and I have to do my laundry. I don't have time to write replies, and I do feel horrible about it. Trust me, I'm not just saying that.

THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR READING MY STORY! It's meant a lot to me to see that people liked it. I loved hearing from you and I loved reading your ideas. I hope that if I write another story ever, I will get as many reviews from people like you. Thanks so much.