Death cannot be trusted (a Kurt Cobain story)

Where did you sleep last night?

I slowly closed my eyes. When I opened them, I was on the same street that me and Kurt fought on. I looked down and was surprised. I was wearing a black tank top, black jeans, and black boots. I also was wearing a black belt with a gun holster on my right side and a knife shoved in my left boot. "Alright," I breathed. "Time to kill Kurt Cobain."
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Misty told me before I came down here that I had to kill him a certain way, since he was already dead, and I was only killing his soul. I reached his apartment and knocked on the door. No answer. I kicked it down and found him lying on the floor. He had been crying because his eyes were red. He hair stuck to his face because of his tears. He was looking at a picture of me that he took that I didn't know about. It was the day that I found out I was an angel. Kurt gave me one of his flannels when we left the court house. I had on a white tank top, acid wash jeans, and doc martens. I had my hair in a bun and was feeding a cat that came out of a dumpster. "I always liked this picture of you," he said. His voice cracked after every word he said. "You look so beautiful in this picture." I felt so bad. I didn't want to kill him. He loved me for crying out loud. "Kurt, I'm sorry... but I have to kill you." He looked up at me with sad eyes. "I know." He sighed. He got up off the floor. I grabbed his face and pulled it close to mine. I kissed his face softly, as if I was 15 and on my first date. He kisses me as if he was kissing his wife of 30 years. "Goodbye, Kurt" I whispered. BANG.
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A/N: So this is the last chapter! Thank you guys so much for reading, voting, commenting, etc. I'll be posting an epilogue tomorrow, which is basically going to say what the characters are doing after this happened. I'll also start my Brendon Urie story on here tomorrow. Message me if you want.