Disclaimer: I don't own much, except my ideas. Jonathan Larson, rest his soul, does.

Chimes were playing in the church where I was being buried.

Six people had shown up at my funeral. In my whole twenty years of life, six people had decided to pay respect to it. The gang was there: Roger, Mark, Maureen, Benny, and Collins.

"April was an amazing person," said Mark as he stood in front of our friends. "I remember this one time, when I was walking down the street with her after picking her up from her work, and she saw an abandoned dog curled up on the sidewalk. I just wanted to drop it off at a pound anywhere, but April wouldn't have that." He laughed quietly to himself. "She took it home, named it Vera for some strange reason, and fed it and everything. She cried when we finally returned her." He walked down the steps and sat down.

Collins and Benny each said something sweet about me. I honestly didn't know Benny had it in him to be nice, but even he had tears in his eyes.

Roger was up to say something. He slowly walked up to my coffin, and opened his mouth to say something. His voice stuck in his throat. He was up there for almost ten minutes before he let out a sob and started running away from everyone.

"Roger!" Mark yelled, to no avail. He followed Roger out of the cemetery.

A/N: Yes, I know that this is short. But it's two in one day! Don't I get points for that? Well, I hope you like it! Please review. If you give me any ideas, I'll promise to take it into consideration. Have a nice weekend!