The funeral was rushed and very on the spot. Micky'd had no will; who would at his age? Samantha couldn't handle making the plans so she gave Power of Attorney to Charlotte, Micky's sister.

Charlotte planned an open casket ceremony at a local church Davy was attending. The service would take place three full days after Micky's tragic death.

The service would be guarded and only family and close friends were allowed to enter the church. As expected many reporters and fans of the Monkees showed up. Both on the day of the visitation and the next day that was the funeral.

None of us wanted to face the reporters in this time of pain. All we wanted to do was hide in a dark room and punish ourselves for being so oblivious to Micky's antics.

But of course we couldn't ignore the public. They did deserve to know what happened. So Peter, Davy, and I got together and devised a story for the press. Whenever someone asked me or the others about Mick's death we told them the story. We couldn't tell them the truth. It was too violent! So instead we told them that an intruder had infiltrated Micky's home and attacked his family. When he stood up to the attacker, he was shot. The attacker ran away and was unable to be tracked down. We made him the hero, not the victim. That's who the people needed to remember him as. The hero.

This story however is not what is documented in the Emergency Medical files. The authorities knew what really happened, and why we couldn't tell the audiences the truth.

I was a bit angry at the fans though. On the day of the funeral they were held back from the other two boys and I by a wall of policemen. They reached through though and tried to touch us or asked us for autographs. Most of them were young to mid-teens. They were young, naïve, and ignorant as to what really happened, so maybe I shouldn't blame them so much. However what they were doing was completely disrespectful.

I was proud of one girl who was about seventeen that showed up. She'd worn a neat black dress and a short black veil. The girl was standing at the side of the porch, but only because she'd been pushed there by the mania of teenagers. She stood there with her head bowed and tears running down her face. When I passed our eyes locked and she seemed to tell me that she was sorry. I nodded a thank you to her. But as I slowed to do it another girl broke through the police's wall and wrapped her arms around me. I fought to pull her off as another guard rushed to help. In my struggle I tripped and landed in a mess of girls. They attacked me from all sides. Ripping at my clothes and at each other. It was the worst thing I'd ever expierienced. I just wanted to get into the building and say goodbye to my friend. And the people who kept telling me, screaming at me, that they loved me; were showing me anything but love.

The security guards worked feverishly to get the girls off of me. But none there were just too many! Once one was taken another took her place. Every inch of me was covered in girl. I received several rushed, and not so rushed kisses, both on my face and body. It was full on harassment and no one could save me from the torture. The torture did not lie in having my clothes ripped off, or getting kisses from star collectors. It laid in the paranoia that I may miss the visitation and never say goodbye to Micky. Every second my mouth was free I screamed for help.

Then I heard it! The voice of my savior.

"Hey!" She screamed. The girl was so terrifying that her compadres stopped mauling me, and turned their attention to her.

"What is wrong with you people!?" She continued. It was the girl in black that I had nodded to. In the chaos she'd made it onto the porch and was facing me. She looked angry.

"Mike is here for a reason. The same reason I'm here today. We're here to mourn the loss of Micky Dolenz's presence in the world! He mourns him as a friend, I mourn him as a dear fan! Michael is not here for you! He will not sign your photos or give you undeserved kisses! Save it for a time designated for that! Let him up this instant so he can join his friends. So he can say farewell to Micky for us all." The girl's words echoed in the brains of each and every person there.

Slowly, one by one, each girl who was on top of around me, had stood and backed away from me, their heads were bowed in respect. I jumped to my feet and was immediately re-surrounded by guards. The girls were corralled back into the wall of policemen as I was taken up onto the porch.

The girl who'd saved me was walking down the steps as I was going up them. I stopped her and asked if she was going back into the crowed. I knew the other girls would hate her for doing what she did, I didn't want her to get hurt. However she shook her head and told me with a sad smile that she was going home to cry by herself. She wiped away a tear and started to sob gently. I could tell she really had loved Micky, even though she'd never known him. I couldn't let her go home.

"No. Why don't you come with me?" I asked and put a hand on her shoulder.

Her eyes lifted to me. "Are you sure?" She whispered.

I nodded and motioned for her to follow me inside. A guard stopped her at the door but I told him it was okay, that she was with me.

"What's your name, darlin?" I asked.

"Mel." She said sheepishly.

"That's a pretty name. Mel this is Samantha." I said as I brought her through the line of loved ones. "She is Micky's wife."

"I'm sorry for your loss." Mel said sadly.

Samantha shook my hand but hesitantly reached for Mel's.

"She's with me." I confirmed.

"Oh ok. Nice to meet you..." Samantha trailed.

"Mel." The girl introduced herself.

"Are you Mike's new girlfriend?" Samantha asked.

Mel gave a slight laugh and blushed. "No, it's just a favor I suppose."

I nodded and the two of us moved to the next person in line. Micky's mother, then his sister, a few aunts and uncles and cousins, and then Peter, Davy, and lastly me and Mel took our places I line. Everyone looked at me but didn't have to ask why I looked like I'd crawled through a pack of rabid dogs before coming.

Mel shook Peter and Davy's hands but she didn't tell them that she loved them, or their music, she just told them sincerely that she was sorry for their loss, and that seemed to speak volumes about how she felt.

Beside me she stood quietly sobbing for the thirty minutes we had left to stand and shake visitor's hands. When the people stopped coming Sam lead our line in visiting Micky's casket in the next room. She broke down there at his side and had to be taken away by her mother.

I waited patiently while those in line said their goodbye before me. Some took long periods of time staring, others stopped for a second and moved on, still others just walked right by him.

Davy kept walking. I knew it wasn't because he didn't love Micky. It was because he couldn't hold back the tears if he looked at our friend's lifeless shell.

Peter lingered and said some type of Mystic prayer over Micky.

Mel and I were last. We stood there together looking over the edge of his mhoghany casket. Tears filled my eyes and hers.

"He looks so much different than he did on Television." Mel whispered.

I shook my head. "He never looked like this in person either. At least not until a week or two before he died."

"He didn't get shot by an intruder did he?" Mel asked.

"No..." The word was only an octave louder than a breath.

"I could tell by his eyes. They always looked so sad and lonely. I always wanted to tell him that he wasn't alone. I wanted him to know that he wasn't the only depressed person in the world." Mel sobbed. I took her hand in mine and squeezed it tightly.

"I wish I had let him know that as well." I said. "Maybe this whole thing could have been avoided."

"Maybe." Mel whispered and dried her tears.

"He was a good man." I said reaching out and touching my friend's sunken cheek. A chill ran through me and I jerked my hand away.

"Come on, let's go." I said and pulled Mel into yet another room. The visiting hours were over and everyone was being asked to leave. I offered Mel a ride home and she accepted.

"Mike, why did you let me come in?" She asked on the way.

"Because you deserved it, both for getting me out and for actually loving Micky." I said.

Mel didn't answer, she only nodded and watched out the tinted windows.

When we arrived at her home on the outskirts of town I asked if she'd like to spend more time with me. She nodded and gave me her phone number.

When I got home I thanked the Lord for sending her to me and taped the number on my bathroom mirror.

That night, before going to bed I turned on all the lights in the house, just as I had done every night since Micky's death. I couldn't sleep in the darkness. It was too dark, too quiet, and too empty. When the nightmares of finding Micky would come there would be no one to hold and comfort me.

I regretted all my passed decisions, such as cheating on Phyllis. She never deserved it. She was a kind, patient wife. I can't believe I just tossed her aside for a fast and easy woman! I wished I still had her now. I wished that she would be there to brighten the darkness, speak in the silence, and fill the empty home I'd so foolishly spent my new wealth on.

I hated myself! Everything I touched, I ruined! My wife was gone! My band was gone! My best friend killed himself and my other friends could barely speak to me. How did I get here? Where did I go wrong?

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