I wanted to write something uberly angsty, emotional, and angry. This is what happened! Reading it out loud for Writer's Craft was fun. Apparently I don't look the type to swear...heh. Warnings? Lots of swearing. And it's really short. But there ya go. Enjoy!

I stare down at you, eyes red from recently shed tears. My fists tremble at my sides, silent sobs wracking my body.

"You bastard," I whisper hoarsely. "You fucking bastard."

You stay silent, safe under your plot of freshly turned soil.

"What the hell were you thinking, huh? You fucking abandoned me!"

You don't answer. I was kind of hoping you'd yell back. But the dead can't do that.

A growl escapes me as I spin around, kicking viciously at the dirt on your grave.

"What a great fucking idea! 'Let's go cliff-diving when we can't see what the hell's in the water!' Yeah, brilliant! What kind of idiot would do that, huh? Oh, right, I forgot: you! Jesus Christ, first you get shitfaced, then you decide to go diving into the ocean at night." I turn to glare at your polished gravestone, granite shining in the fading light. "What the hell were you thinking?!"

Silence is my only answer. I'm alone, standing above your grave in an empty cemetery, yelling at your buried corpse. Pathetic.

My eyes water suddenly, and I fall to my knees with a strangled scream. My fingers sink into the soft earth, curling into fists. Tears fall from my eyes, watering your grave. Maybe if enough fall, something will grow. Maybe instead of a tree, you'll come back to me.

Maybe I'll get a fucking grip on reality.

"Why did you leave me?" I sob, eyes clenched closed. "Why did you have to do something so stupid? Why didn't you listen to me? 'Don't worry, Jayden, I've dived lots of times before! I'll be fine!' Bull!"

Your name blurs as I stare at it, trying to stop crying. Another hopeless sob escapes me as I slam my fist into the dirt, anger and anguish battling for control inside me.

"I hate you so fucking much," I whisper, voice broken.

We both know that's a lie; you're the only one I've ever loved. And now you're gone.

It's a long time before I get myself under control. Finally, the sobs fade, and the tears stop. Finally, I'm able to unclench my fists.

Shaking, I crawl to your gravestone, resting my back against the cool granite, knees pulled up. The sun's setting now.

"You always liked sunsets," I murmur unevenly, staring at the fiery sky. "You always dragged me to the lake to watch them with you. It was like an addiction." A hoarse laugh escapes me. "'Why do drugs when you can watch a sunset?' That's what you always said. And I always laughed at you cuz, c'mon…that's a damn weird thing to say." I lean my head back against the gravestone, a sigh leaving me. "Then again, you were a damn weird kid."

I sit there, staring blankly, thoughts revolving around you from the moment we met to the moment I saw you resting in your silk-lined coffin, face painted to look wrongly alive, suit wrapping strangely around your body. It hasn't even been a week, and I feel like I could die from missing you so much.

Forcing back the returning tears, I scrounge in my pocket, coming up with a half-empty box of cigarettes and a lighter. My fingers tremble slightly as I tease one of the slender white cylinders from the battered package, placing it between my lips as I thumb the lighter. Seconds later, a thin stream of smoke is winding itself up through the air and filling my lungs. My eyes close as I enjoy the feel of the toxic fumes winding their way through my body.

"We always shared my cigarettes, didn't we?" I say softly to your empty body buried deep below me. "Whenever I lit one up, you insisted I let you take a puff, even though you claimed you didn't smoke. Liar." A small, ironic grin twists my lips as the ashes fall onto your fresh grave. "Guess we're sharing again, huh?"

You don't answer, but I know somewhere you're laughing.

You always did have a strange sense of humour.

A tear slides its way down my cheek, escaping the closed lid.

God, I miss you.