Last night, I explained to my friends that Harod was dead. When I told the story of Harod's last day, our sentiment was the same: we failed him. We should have seen the warning signs, we should have acted to get him the help he needed. Because of our failure to look after him, he is no longer with us. All we can do now is honor his memory by being sure to learn from our mistakes.
Romulus Thread offered his condolences and gave us permission to go to the morgue and see his body. We were all able to say our last goodbyes. His body was covered by a long white sheet, so nobody could see his face; this was probably for the best, as I doubt the others will benefit from their last memories of Harod being his cold dead body. We went one at a time, so as to be able to spend time alone with him, and so I have no idea what the others said.
I spoke to him last, and I was still sobbing. I looked at his thankfully covered body for only a few seconds, then I turned away. I did not leave the room but instead sobbed for some time. Once I was able to whimper our some words, I turned around. Still unable to face him, I tried to close my eyes: once an image of his dying body flashed through my mind, I opened my eyes and stared at the floor.
"Harod, I would like to say that I am sorry. I was your friend, and I could not be there for you when you needed it most. I wish you were still with us, and I am sure that if you were you would have gotten the help you needed. My mom once said that when people we love die, they are never completely gone. She said that they will always be with us in our hearts. I don't know if that's true, but I miss you."
Again, I sobbed bitterly. Once I was done, I said some parting words. "I don't blame you. I know that you were never evil, that you only needed to be reminded who you are. I just want to say that I love you. You were my friend and I love you. Goodby Harod."
As I crawled back to campfire, Romulus Thread handed me a picture. It was a picture of Harod with his wife Anna; they both looked happy together. He said that it was no trouble, that he just photocopied it from the one that was found in Harod's pocket: after which he put the original back with Harod's other things. His things, like him, are to be sent back to the central city where his family will get his things and his body will be buried.
I sat around the campfire with my remaining friends, drinking alcohol rations and and singing mourning songs. Barring Aric and Helena (who sneak off to some hidden corner for obvious reasons) one by one we head to bed and sleep.
I do not have a good nights sleep, that much is assured.