Weight In Gold (Brendon Urie)

The End

I sit on my bed with my head laying on the palms of my hands. We have to leave for the funeral in a few minutes, but if I never got up again I wouldn't mind. I had to go to school yesterday, and it was hell on Earth. The school decided not to announce Ryan's death to the entire school quite yet, and neither Brendon nor I felt comfortable telling anyone what happened. We don't have to go today, since the funeral takes place during school, which I'm grateful for.

"Ashley, it's time to leave," I hear Jodie tell up at me from downstairs. I stand up and smooth out my simple black dress before walking out of my room and then downstairs. Jodie is wearing a black top and black skirt, and Rick and Brendon are both dressed in black suits. The four of us quietly and sullenly walk out to Jodie's car and drive to the graveyard together. Ryan's parents decided they wanted his Funeral outdoors.

The car ride is slow and monotonous. There is no music playing, no conversation between anyone in the car, no laughter. The feeling of hopelessness hangs heavy in the air. We finally arrive to the area where they're holding the funeral about thirty minutes after we start driving.

I get out of the car and walk with Brendon to find seats for the service.
Ryan's coffin is open, but I can't bring myself to look at him. I walk over to one of the hard, white, plastic chairs and sit down. We're the last people to arrive, so the service starts only seconds after we're seated. I look around and see only people I don't recognize. They all seem to be in their thirties or older, and the only people who look anywhere near Ryan's age are some people who seem to be his cousins.

The service begins with a man in a white robe and a bible in his hand. It's obvious by the was that he's speaking that he had never met Ryan before. With every word that comes out of his mouth, I have to force myself not to blurt out what the truth about Ryan was.

"He was a joyous child of God"

He never spoke of God for a single second while I knew him.

"He spent his life in sin, but has now been reclaimed by our Lord."

He wouldn't give a damn about sin.

"He has left our world by means of Angel wings."

I'm pretty sure he left our world by means of 14 Oxycontin pills.

What is supposed to be Ryan's service becomes this man's idea of a good time to preach the bible. This isn't what Ryan would have wanted. He would have wanted someone who knew him and cared for him to speak for him, not some priest who's being played $40 an hour to pretend to give a damn. The more he talks, the more I wish the service would just end. This isn't how I want to say my goodbye to one of the best people I'd ever known.

Eventually, the service wraps up and everyone goes to say their good-byes. Just out of politeness, I briefly step up to the coffin and look at my friend down below. He looks, well, dead. His skin is gray and his cheeks aren't flushed full of color like they used to be. I quickly scurry away from him, unwilling to look down at this person I'm being told is "my friend."

A few minutes later, everyone who went to the service decides collectively to go get some food. Brendon says that he's not coming, and that we can come back to pick him up after we eat. I want to stay with him, but I figure be needs some time to his self.

The food at the restaurant is sub par, and the table conversation is excruciating. We finish eating and leave before anyone else, our excuse being that we have to pick up Brendon. When we get back to the graveyard, Ryan's coffin has been barried and covered in dirt. Brendon is sitting on the grass in front of it looking down. "Why don't you go out there with him. We'll pick you up in a while," says Aunt Jodie to me once she notices me looking out at him. I nod and step out of the vehicle.

As soon as I'm out of the car, Rick and Jodie leave. I slowly walk up to Brendon and take a seat next to him. "Hey," I say quietly. "Hey," he responds without looking at me. He's staring blankly at Ryan's tombstone. The distance between the dates engraved into it seem much to short. He really was so young. "Did you read that letter yet?" I ask Brendon, trying to change the topic but then realizing that I didn't change it to the best thing. Brendon shakes his head and reaches into his coat jacket, where he pulls out the envelope. "Will you read it to me?" he asks. I don't want to, because I know I'm probably going to be a crying mess, but I do it anyways because it's what Brendon wants.

"Dear Brendon," I begin, taking a shaky, deep breath before continuing to read. "I don't really know how to start this. There's so many things I want to say, but I don't know how to say all of them. I guess the first thing I want you to know is that I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I did this, I'm sorry for any time I ever hurt you, I'm sorry for everything I screwed up on in life, I'm sorry I left you so suddenly, and I'm sorry that I fell for you. I knew what I was doing when I did it, and I thought out all of the consequences of doing it over and over again, but no matter how much it affects you, please promise me you won't let it ruin your life. Promise me that you will move on and be happy. That's all I really want, is for you to be happy.

I also want you to know that what I did was because of me. No one is to blame for this other than me. Not you, not Ashley, not my mom or dad, no one. I did this to myself and I did it for the better of everyone. There are many reasons why, but those aren't important. I don't want you to spend your time thinking about what you could have done, because the truth is you couldn't have done anything.

I don't know what else to say. I feel like there's a million more things I want to say to you, but no way to express what I'm thinking.

Please live the best life you can, and above all, make sure that you're happy. I don't know if you can think once you're gone, but if you can, I promise that I'll think about you every day.

And never forget, I love you more than words can explain."