Marco sat in the last row at her funeral. Her mother was in the front row, putting on a good show. Her father, who came from whatever the hell country he was from, put his arm around her. Everyone from school was there. Ellie would have been surprised.
Marco stood up, and took a long walk down the aisle. He got up to the podium, and stared out at everyone. Ellie's parents wanted him to say a few things about Ellie.
He was going to say a few things, alright.
"Ellie Nash, 16, died from self-inflicted wounds in her home on March 26, 2004," he paused, and angrily brushed a tear from his cheek. He took a deep breath and continued. "She leaves behind a mother, who has no idea that she hated being called Eleanor, who's going to get drunk after the service, just like she usually does. She leaves behind a father, who doesn't even know his daughter's favorite food, who in two days will be back in a country no one's ever heard of. She leaves behind a school full of people, who only show any care about her now that she's dead. And she leaves behind me, the one person who cared about her too late," he paused again. He couldn't believe he was going to say this. He took a deep breath, "Ellie Nash, 16, died on March 26, 2004 from wounds inflicted from her mother, her father, her classmates, and a friend who was never really a good enough friend. The wounds which killed her go too deep for anyone to see."
He stepped down, walked away from the podium. A hundred or more shocked faces stared at him. Dylan stood up, put his arm around him. He was the only one Marco had read his speech too. Marco walked out, tears streaming down his cheeks. Not for himself, but for the girl he felt he had a hand in killing.