Andy was out cold. He tried to look for something or someone. He searched for the girl with the beautiful blue eyes and blonde hair. He looked for a light of any sort. If he was dead, he wanted his soul to at least be at peace. He didn’t want to spend the rest of his after life on earth.

I know what you’re thinking. Is he dead? The answer: no. Is he close to it? Absolutely.

Just as he was about to give up his search for some type of a sign, there was a flash of white light and he began to see the events of the night before play in his mind as if he were watching the memory on a movie screen.

It was late and the boys had just played an awesome show. To celebrate, they all decided to go out somewhere. Andy really just wanted to go back to the bus, but all the guys insisted he come with them.

“It won’t be the same if you don’t come.” CC whined.

“Yeah,” Ashley agreed. “Please, Andy?” He pouted.

Andy sighed. “Okay, okay, fine. Peer pressure wins again…”

The boys cheered and dragged Andy into the nearest bar.

Andy wasn’t a big drinker. He liked it, but preferred his cigarettes more, that’s for sure. After about an hour of drinking, Andy was legally drunk. He couldn’t see straight ahead of him, his vision was blurred and he saw two of everything.

He decided to go outside for a smoke. None of the other guys really smoked so he went alone. He leaned back against the brick wall and lit up the cancer stick lingering between his lips. He took a long drag and blew the smoke out in front of his face.

He heard the door to the bar open and saw his band mates walk—well, more like stumble—out of the bar. Andy pushed off the wall and went to go follow them. He figured they must be going back to the bus to sleep off their drunken state.

He wasn’t too far behind them when they passed by an alleyway and someone grabbed Andy from behind, pulling him into the alley and away from his friends. The rest of the guys were too drunk to notice he was gone.

Andy tried to scream but a man’s fat hand was shoved over his mouth, muffling his cries for help. To get the stupid kid in his arms to shut up, the man picked up a discarded beer bottle on the grimy alleyway ground and bashed the bottle over the kid’s head, sending shards of glass flying everywhere and digging one into the side of the guy’s head.

Andy’s whole body went limp at the blow and the man was relieved he had stopped trying to scream. Now all he had to do was to get rid of the body. But where? He didn’t want to just leave the kid stranded in the alley. Someone would definitely find him here. The murderer didn’t want the boy’s body to be found. He didn’t want to get caught. He had been on the run from the police for the past fourteen years and he didn’t want this punk kid to be the reason he gets caught.

The man carried the singer’s body for what seemed like miles before he finally arrived at the outskirts of town at a little black cottage that he knew all too well. He dropped Andy’s lifeless body on the ground and smiled at the sight of him bleeding out all over the brown grass.

He heard a door slam shut and looked up to see a tall, slender, teenage girl with black ballet shoes in hand and long blonde hair tied up in a messy ponytail waltz out the back door and across the back deck to enter the cemetery.

He had to get out of here. Dead or not, the kid had to stay and hopefully he hadn’t seen anything that he could get the man into even more trouble for. He couldn’t let the girl see him. She would recognize his face and he couldn’t risk her seeing him. He debated on staying to kill her as well, but he had nothing to use but his hands and he wasn’t the type to choke people to death. He liked to watch them bleed all the way out. He knew this house, and he would return as soon as he had a plan. The girl would be next.