Disclaimer: I don't own Jeff Hardy. This plot isn't completely from my mind. It is from a movie, just altered.

A/N: Okay, so this is going to be short, but I had to write it. Now, I want to see if someone can guess which movie this story is based on by just this prologue. I will say which one it is based on in the next chapter (though in the next chapter it will be pretty clear). I will also change the title to the original title I had planned, but would give the movie away if I used. As soon as someone guesses the movie, I'll change the title. I may be a little out of my element here, but it was too good of an idea to pass up in my opinion. I'll tell you why I had the idea in the next chapter too. This is one of the spin off's of love is Insane. Same characters; no connection to the actual story.


Prologue


Empty.

That's exactly how Matt Hardy felt.

How can you feel empty though? Doesn't feeling empty mean there is no feeling at all?

These were the things he'd been asking himself all day; riddles that never seemed to have any answers. Anything to stray his thoughts from the still too recent tragedy that had been plaguing his mind day and night for the past year.

Just the mere thought of it made his stomach churn. How could it have happened? Why had it happened? What had they done to deserve a fate like that? Why did he have to bury his younger brother and his best friend?

And here he stood at the site, in Cameron, North Carolina. They had been buried next to each other, like they would have wanted. Matt had made sure of that.

Inhaling deeply, Matt's breath shook and a wave of sad tears washed over him, spilling from his eyes and down his cheeks. It had been a year today, but there was still no relief. No one had been caught or charged with the murder of Jeff Hardy and his beautiful, young girlfriend.

The images haunted him. He would never find any escape from them. The phone call had been vague; rushed. His ex Amy had absolutely been panicking. Matt had hardly any details as he sped to the Chicago hotel, horrified at the sight as he pulled into the parking lot.

Caution tape surrounded the area; police officers, ambulances and onlookers as well. Jeff was already dead when he arrived, tearing Matt's heart wide open. He hadn't had to see him though. He'd already been covered with the white sheet.

X. Oh, his beautiful X though. Bloodied, beaten and barely hanging on. He'd sat at the hospital with her devastated father for the next two days before her body just gave.

He could still see her, caked in blood, sweat and tears. Machines hooked on to her, the only way she had lived as long as she had. And she died thinking Jeff was alive, the coma state her body had gone in to not allowing for her to have the knowledge of his brutal murder. Matt wouldn't have known how to tell her anyway.

He collapsed onto his hands and knees, feeling the pain as if it had happened all over again due to the mere memory. Life would never and had never been the same because of the devastation of the murders. He was a shell of who he once had been, feeling hollow and alone since the loss of the two most important people in his life.

"Hey um..." Matt jolted upwards, turning to face the voice that had interrupted his mourning. Amy stood, a bundle of wild flowers in her slender hands. "Sorry." She blushed, realizing she had disturbed him. Matt stood from in front of his loved ones tombs, trying to regain his composure at least a little. "I just... I brought these."

Tensions were high between the two since Amy had had an affair with their co-worker. Part of him wanted to snap at her and tell her to go away. That these were the people he loved and he wanted to be alone with them. But he knew Amy had loved them both as well. So instead, he opted for lifting his shoulders and turning his back to her, eyes locked on the two headstones before him.

"I miss them too you know," Amy assured him, trying to make this significantly less awkward. He wasn't alone in his grief. He wasn't the only one who had been at the crime scene. He wasn't the only one haunted by the images of the fateful night.

And soon there would be another.