Opposite me a few yards away was a row of chairs of the same style I was sitting in. In every chair someone sat... an array of the strangest people I'd ever seen sat in those seats. Ranging from old to young, they all seemed motionless and unaware of my presence as well.

What were we all waiting for? I'm not sure. Why and how was I there? That’s even more unclear. But no one here seems to be capable of intelligible thought, let alone speech.

I looked to my right, and saw a young child, no older than twelve... tears were pouring down his bruised and bloody face. His clothes were black dickies and a black plain T-shirt, various chains and spikes adorning his diminished figure. I stared at him curiously for a moment, and then asked, "Why are you crying kid? Are you okay?"

The kid looked at me, his face ashen and tear-streaked.

"...It's because I see what I've become right in front of my face..." The child replied, taking deep shuddering breaths, then sliding out of his seat and curling into fetal position. I stared at him, confused, but then slid out of my chair as well and bent over him worriedly. I raised a hand to his face to wipe away the tears as the child flinched at my touch and sobbed uncontrollably.

“Where are your parents? What's your name? And what do you mean, you see what you've become?" I asked as he sat up and leant against the chair he had slid out of. He began to control himself, then looked at me solemnly and answered my questions.

"My parents are gone... My name is Chester Charles Bennington. And you are what I've become... a broken man with nothing left in his life." He said, his voice fading to a whisper. I stared at him in shock, then leapt up and backwards into the row of people sitting opposite us. They didn't move... they were dead. I jumped forward in horror and landed in a heap on the floor.

"No… This is impossible! I'm not broken, I'm not broken! Mike said I'm not, he tells me so!" I cried uselessly. The child stood and walked towards my crumpled figure slowly, tears shining upon his face and blood dripping down his arms and fingers. He bent over and clasped my face in his hands, smearing his blood all over me as he became level with my eyes.

"Mike is a liar. He doesn't love you; no one does or ever will. They can't because you are nothing. You cut, you smoke, you drink, and you fuck your lover almost every night... and for what? To make yourself think you are feeling better. Only one thing can save you. It's always been a way out; you've just been too weak to take it. Now is your chance, Chester! Help yourself, help me, help us!" He said, shoving a gun into my shaking hands. I stood, and stuck the muzzle of the gun in my mouth, tears struggling down my face. My child self stared at me in satisfaction, a relaxed smile on his face as he folded his arms on his chest and watched me. I whispered a silent prayer, closed my eyes, and pulled the trigger.

Click.

I pulled the gun away from my head and stared at it furiously; it was empty!

"You sick bastard..." I whispered, raising my eyes to see that the young Chester had replaced his look of desperation into one of malicious exultation.

"Of course it's empty, did you really think I was going to let you off that easy? You can't just end the pain; you need to suffer to build character, which you have none of. It's suffering that makes us stronger, isn't that what he always said?"

"Shut up about that, you have no right..." I said quietly, trying to control myself.

"Of course I have a right! I'm you remember? But there's something that I'm trying to think of... something that he used to say to you, a long time ago... what was it? Oh yeah, now I remember.. he used to say that you were a wretch to live with but a marvelous fuck."

"No... you're wrong. Stop... please..." I stumbled backwards and fell into the corner of the room.

"Yes, Chester, yes! This is suffering, this is pain. You mustn't forget the past; it will hold more pain for you than any vision every will. It's important that you remember the past... but of course, you wouldn't understand why... sad." The boy scoffed, then strode towards me, stooping close in front of me. I leant back as far as I could, but he grabbed my chin roughly and stared at me hard.

"You'll be seeing me again, Chester... maybe tomorrow, maybe next week... maybe next month. But you will see me again. Right now, however, your lover is just about to bring you back up from unconsciousness. Good bye, Chester. Maybe when I see you again you'll have a little more spine." I wrenched my chin away from his grasp sharply, and he smirked.