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Memorial - In Loving Memory of Chester Gregorich, 1981-2005
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Musicians/Music Groups Fan Fiction >> Good Charlotte

The following is a work of fiction. Any statements regarding any person, place, or other entity (real or imaginary) is the sole responibility of the author of this work of fiction. Fan Works Inc. takes no responsibility for the content of user submitted stories. All stories based on real people are works of fiction and do not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. All stories based on other copyrighted works are written with authors knowing that these works violate copyright laws.

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Tragedy
By BrokenxSmilesxMourn27

 

         I sat there, holding my legs to my chest, crying my heart out. It finally hit me. He's gone. It's been three days. Three days since the accident that left me so misrable. My best friend was gone forever. I would never see him again. Why did I live and he didn't, I thought. Why didn't he live? Why didn't I die too? Billy was the kind of best friend everyone hopes for. And he was my best friend. We shared everything with eachother. Him dying was slowly killing me. No one can comfort me. None of my family or others friends can help. People think I'm taking this so well, but I'm not. I just hide my emotion. I'm a loner at school now. I've secluded myself from everyone else. It just hurts too much. People try to talk to me, but I just ignore them if I can. My friends think I am being stupid. I am doing this, and I am supposedly being selfish acting as though it is only affecting me. But I know it's not. It's just my way of dealing with it.
         He was buried yesterday. I made sure it was the place he wanted. Like I said, we shared everything. So one day he told me where he wanted to be buried because he trusted me to fulfill it if he died. And he did. He was buried on a hill outside of town that we would go to to talk. I slowly pulled myself up. I walked the path I had walked so many times before with him. I walked up to his grave and sat down. At that, I shed a new set of tears. I stared at the tombstone, wishing that what it said was something else. It read:
William Dean Martin
June 15, 1981 - December 11,2005
We love you. May you rest in peace.

         I know what it says will never change. I know it happened and and I can't change that. Then I wiped my eyes. I started talking to him, as though he could respond and it was like old times. I told him about my day and how I missed him. Everyday will be like this until I die. Everyday I will sit with Billy and talk no matter how crazy I may seem. And with that, I layed down and took a nap beside Billy.

 

The preceeding was a work of fiction. Any statements regarding any person, place, or other entity (real or imaginary) is the sole responibility of the author of this work of fiction. Fan Works Inc. takes no responsibility for the content of user submitted stories. All stories based on real people are works of fiction and do not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. All stories based on other copyrighted works are written with authors knowing that these works violate copyright laws.

Please see the Terms of Service for more information.

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