The Inbetween.

It was 3 o'clock in the morning when my mom passed out of the sofa, dropping the picture on the floor and smashing it.
I gathered up the pieces of glass as, when I concentrated hard, I could hold things - Almost if I was solid and human again. My fingers curled around a Post-It note and wrote on a small piece of paper..
'I'm Sorry."
My transparent eyes leaked tears onto the paper, and you could see it. What was happening?
I brushed the hair from my mother's face, kissing her softly. "I love you.. Don't do anything stupid whilst I'm gone, okay?"

When I turned, she moaned a little and I smiled.
"Goodbye.."
I walked out of the door and, on the table, I saw a photo.. The most disturbing photo I have ever seen.
It was me.. Dead in the coffin. My neck was stitched up and bloodstained, left eye half closed.

After staring at it for the best part of 10 minutes I noticed something..
On my thumb knuckle, etched in with a blade, was the number five.
"What the.."
He was following me, that hooded figure.. He was torturing me.

I ran all the way to the graveyard, clutching the photo. And searched for my grave.
Then.. I found it.

Shrouded in flowers, cards, teddies and so much more, was the cross-shaped concrete with my name carved in it..

Here lies..

Stefan Lowden Biersack

Life taken too early, snuffing out his dreams..

We will always remember you..

I collapsed next to the grave, sobbing. All of those dreams.. Ended. Ended by this man..
By one man..