Chapter 3 of Visions

JEREMY MARCUS COLE
1997-2011
TOO YOUNG TO GO
GOOD SON. GOOD FRIEND.
His tombstone read. Pouring down rain outside, and everyone in black. It was cold and hard. My heart sank every time I looked at his age; he was fourteen.
I never imagined losing him. He always seemed like the type of guy who was always gonna be there for you, never leaves, always answers your calls, my best friend.
Everyone was inside dry, but I was outside, my hair soaking in the rain, and lying in the grass, staring at the tombstone. I felt like I could sense his presence, like he was behind me watching me. I turned around, and he was there, but it was his vision, not the real him.
"Kelly! Come inside, you're getting filthy!" Sam said, as she came to me with an umbrella and took me inside. I started to remember the crash; thinking I was dead. The pressure of the blood running down my body and aching as I thought I was gonna die in the ditch, with no one to find me.
I got dried off a bit, and went inside with everyone. I looked around, and his pictures were all over the place.
Him as a kid, playing baseball with his dad, being held by his mom. Then there were pictures of him and me.
Us two on his trampoline in the backyard making poses in the air, the cookies we made when were ten. Then pictures of us on the Fourth of July running with our sparklers in one hand, and the Coca Cola bottles in another.
I started to cry, and the frozen tears hit my scars. I turned away from the pictures, and I saw him standing there, but a ghost.
He mouthed,
"I'm sorry."
I hated this day. I ran out of the building and ran into Jacob's car. I lied in the back seat until Jacob came to me.