Death follows some people around like a shadow, lingering behind them, watching, waiting and growing ever closer with every breath they take. But are they really the target? Or are they cursed to pass deaths touch onto those that walk a different path… For Maric Drogovski there’s no light at the end of the tunnel. The headaches get a little worse every time, a splitting pain through the temples and behind the eyes. His girlfriend Claudia’s moods have darkened and she’s turning into a nasty piece of work. Then there’s the poetry. That need to write away all of life’s problems with a pen. But there’s something in his mind that he can’t escape. A picture he’ll have in there forever. Abigail… Sweet little Abigail.