"My name is Dara Park, and I am here today, to talk about my best friend. Were are all here in memory of him. We all loved him," that pit was forming in my throat. That tiny pit that eventually grows and starts to hurt when you speak, yeah, that one. Tears were coming to my eyes blurring my vision of all the mourners. All that was left, was a mass of blurred black. I couldn't stop though. Everyone needed to know what happened. They needed to know who killed him.

"Seungri was more than a friend to me. He was my brother, my first kiss, and the person who tore down my protective walls. He was the only person who had ever seen me in just my underclothes," the pit was growing even more. It was starting to hurt. 'Come on Dara. You can do this.' For Seungri.

"On April 17, 2004, Seungri took his life. But he wasn't the one who killed himself. It was his peers. They killed him with their words and their actions," I pulled out a red marker, and drew a red line across my wrist. I held it up and showed everyone. "This is how it started. He would graze his skin with a thin blade, and watch himself bleed," I was crying now. But there was no turning back.

I drew Tiny circles in the palm of my hand, showing that they were pills. "He turned to drugs," I drew a line across my neck, "he tried to hang himself," finally, I drew red lines coming from my hair, trailing down my face and neck, "Finally, he leapt off a building," I drew a red circle in the side of my head and showed everyone before continuing, "and he shot himself to make sure he'd never wake up."

Seungri's mother was scream crying now. She was like my mother too, considering I didn't really have any parents. Hearing and seeing her cry absoloutley felt like my already torn hear was being thrown in a meat grinder. His younger brother, only six, cried too, clutching a tiny stuffed animal. His father sat still, an emotionless expression glued to his face. All he could do was wrap an arm around his wife, and gently rub her arms as she cried into his shoulder.

Students from school were pretending to cry. Even the ones who killed him.

"This wasn't his fault. It was yours." I stared right into the eyes of a girl who went to our school. She killed him. She took him away from me.

Everyone turned to look at her. Seungri's family turned as well, their eyes filled with hate and rage. Finally she knew what it was like to be looked at that way.

It's amazing the power words can have. It wasn't physical things that killed my Seungri.

They were simply words.