A/N: This is the original version of Teenage Suicide: Don't Do It. It's very badly written (done in late-2010, around the time of the original airing of "Never Been Kissed") and comes in two parts, noted by the Part I and Part II aligned center. I figured with the updated version out that the readers should get to see how it really came to be.
Part I
My name is Kurt, Kurt Elizabeth Hummel; I'm 16 years old and a junior at McKinley High School in Lima, Ohio. I'm literally alone, seeing as how I'm the only openly gay kid in school; our school's run by the Cheerios, three seemingly perfect but totally bitchy cheerleaders. Quinn Fabray is head Cheerio who regularly bullies all lower forms; Santana Lopez, Quinn's second-in-command, is pure evil when it comes to guys; and last and least is Brittany Pierce, the air-headed slut of the group; she's slept with almost every guy in school. Yet for some reason, I'm like the "fourth wheel" of the group; I don't like it but I am popular, and so I don't get crap.
"Oh shit, here comes Quinn," I heard Artie Abrams say as Quinn, Santana, and Brittany approached the table he was at with Mercedes Jones and Tina Cohen-Chang, and I was following.
"May God have mercy on us all," Mercedes quipped.
"Lunchtime poll," Quinn announced. I saw Mercedes and Tina roll their eyes. "Aliens just arrived to tell us that they're gonna blow up the Earth in two days and you just won two million dollars in the lottery, what're you gonna do with the money?"
"I'd get all the hottest clothes," Mercedes replied.
"I'd get a rocket out of here...with a girl," Artie said, pausing to turn red.
"Ooh, Quinn, look," Brittany said. She was pointing at a tall, dark-haired boy sitting in a corner of the quad.
"Ugh, new kid, obviously," Quinn scoffed. "Kurt, you go ask him."
"Fine," I replied bitterly. I walked over to him and he grinned.
"Hey," he said smoothly.
"Hi," I said, "can I ask you a question?"
The guy flashed a grin; his teeth were perfect. "Sure, go ahead. Remember, there are no stupid questions, just stupid people."
"Okay, 'stupid aliens just arrived to tell us that they're gonna blow up the stupid Earth in two days and you just won two million dollars in the stupid lottery, what're you gonna do with the stupid money?'" I asked.
He looked taken aback for a second, and then said, "Well, I stand corrected, there are stupid questions." I smiled.
Just then, who had to ruin the moment but Quinn. "Come on, Kurt, if people see you with the new kid, they'll think we're with the new kid," she snapped.
"I am so sorry," I mouthed to him as she pulled me away. He winked.
As I was being pulled away, dimwitted jocks Karofsky and Azimio sauntered over to the guy and started taunting him. I yanked myself from Quinn and tried to hear what they were saying.
"Hey, fag, don't you get it? No one wants you here," Azimio sneered.
"I get it, you guys are obviously the 'power and muscle' around here, and it's pretty clear that I'm not the only fag," the guy said. I grinned.
"What'd you say, you little prick?" Karofsky snarled.
"Do I need to repeat myself?" the guy said, pulling out a gun.
"He was shooting blanks, obviously," I said as I played croquet in Quinn's backyard with the girls.
"He had a real gun; they should throw his ass in jail," Santana said, taking her shot.
"No way, least they could do is suspend him, the only damage done was some soiled jockstraps," I said, with a grin.
"Well, Kurt, I had no idea you had eyes for a total psycho," Quinn said scathingly.
As she turned her back, I flipped her off, then hit the ball so hard it bounced off the birdbath, then the wind chimes, and right through the hole I was aiming for.
"Holy shit, that was awesome," Brittany said.
"Santana, your mother's here," Judy, Quinn's mom, called.
"Who wants a ride?" Santana asked, swinging her mallet over her shoulder. Brittany immediately followed.
"I'm taking Kurt to his first college party tonight," Quinn bragged. I rolled my eyes. Yep, my first college party; what fun that will be, especially with an escort like Quinn.
I went to my SUV and pulled all the CDs out, knowing Quinn would bitch about my musical tastes: Eurythmics, Gloria Gaynor, Lena Horne, Diana Ross... She came running out in her Cheerios uniform.
"Now, to the QuickStop!" she commanded. I sighed and drove.
That night, I was at the QuickStop picking up a Slushie for myself and cigarettes for Quinn. I keep telling her smoking will make her too skinny and Sue Sylvester, the cheerleading coach, doesn't like her girls too skinny. But does she listen to me? No, she just tells me to shut the hell up and buy her damn cigarettes.
"Two packs of Malboro Red 100s, please," I approach the counter, Slushie in hand.
"Twelve dollars and sixty cents, please," the counter girl droned.
"I got it," a familiar voice said and a hand placed a $20 on the counter. I turned to see the new kid grinning at me.
"Thanks," I said, sipping my Slushie.
"Sure. Anyway, I'm Blaine," he said, extending his hand.
"Kurt," I shook his hand.
"Kurt!" Quinn screeched from the car. "I want corn nuts!"
I groaned and called back, "What kind?"
"Regular," she yelled.
"Now you see my life, isn't it just lovely?" I said to Blaine as I grabbed two packs of corn nuts.
"Why do you do what she says?" Blaine asked.
"Being friends with the Cheerios is like having an invisible force field around me," I explained.
"But aren't they just like everyone else, treating like you this? You buying her corn nuts?" he asked.
"You make a valid point," I replied. "Hey, by the way, that was some crazy shit you pulled today."
Blaine smiled and shook his head. "Hey, numbskull jocks, only way to shut them up," he said.
I laughed and picked up the change and began to give it to Blaine, but he shook his head. "No, you keep it. Sounds like Queen Bitch out there would kill you without the change," he replied.
"Well, I gotta go," I said, picking up my Slushee. "The bitch is taking me to a college party."
"College party?" he sounded amused.
"Yes, a college party," I said it like a snooty rich person, "the bitch thinks it'll do me some good if I meet girls; apparently, it will turn me straight. I'll be straight when hell freezes over."
He laughed, showing his perfect white teeth, shook my hand again, and held the door open for me.
"Thanks, maybe I'll see you around," I said.
"Have fun," he replied. I nodded.
"Kurt, what were you doing talking to the new kid? And where's my change?" Quinn demanded as I got in the car.
"I was being friendly, try it sometime," I retorted, tossing the money at her.
"Do I have to remind you that hanging out with the Cheerios makes you better than everyone else? And that means we don't communicate with lower life forms," she scoffed.
"That's a big word for you," I muttered, pulling out of the QuickStop.
As I pulled into the alleyway, Quinn jumped out of the car and ran to hug some tall blond guy. Then I saw a guy about my height and he was totally cute.
"Kurt, this is Luke," Quinn said, bringing the guy over.
"Pleasure," I said, extending my hand.
"Is this the fag you told me about?" Luke asked Quinn, who snickered.
"Whatever," I shrugged, used to ignorance.
"Come on, Luke, let's go get a drink," Quinn said as she took his hand and walked away. Luke laughed and pushed past me on his way. I walked inside and milled around before bumping into the cute guy I saw earlier, making me drop the empty cup I was holding. He bent down to pick it up and he grinned at me.
"Sorry about that," he said.
"It's ok," I was blushing.
"I'm Wyatt," he extended his hand.
"Kurt," I said, shaking it.
"Kurt!" Quinn screeched.
"God, that's the second time tonight," I muttered. "What?" I yelled.
"Here's a girl for you," she said, dragging an innocent-looking girl behind her; the girl looked as if she'd rather be somewhere else.
"I don't want a girl, Quinn. You can't turn me straight, ok?" I said.
"Oh, sorry, kid, um, I have a girlfriend; I mean, I'm bi, but yeah. I saw the way you were looking at me, I was gonna tell you, but then she started yelling," Wyatt said.
"Thanks for ruining everything, Quinn," I said, walking out towards the car.
"Hey, not my fault the guy was taken," she replied, with a nasty grin.
"Dumb blonde," I muttered as I unlocked the car. Suddenly, an uneasy feeling arose in my stomach. I turned away from the car and threw up. Everyone around me started laughing.
"Look at the fag who can't handle a beer," I heard someone say. I looked up long enough to see Luke laughing his head off and pointing at me.
"Well, Kurt, you made total fools of us. I'm mad as hell. Are you happy?" Quinn asked.
"You bitch," I snapped, before getting into the car, locking the doors, and driving away, leaving Quinn in the dust.
I was driving home, when I abruptly slammed on the brake. Someone was walking across the street in a dark hoodie and I didn't even see the person until I looked up. The person took off the hoodie and it was Blaine. I got out of the car, swearing.
"Damn it, I almost ran you over!" I said.
"Never knew crossing the street was a crime," he retorted.
"Can I take you home?" I sighed in defeat.
"Sure," Blaine said, as he climbed in.
"Kurt," Blaine said.
"Yeah?" I was bobbing my head in time to Cay-Li's new song "Frack You".
"Stop the car and look at me," he said.
"Okay," I put the car in park and turned to look at Blaine; he grabbed the back of my neck and kissed me.
"Ok, didn't see that coming," I remarked after he was done.
"Kurt, I like you and you don't deserve to hang out with people like Quinn," he said.
"I know, but it's just I can't take any more shit from anyone, so I don't know what to do," I looked at Blaine, who smiled gently.
"I've got an idea, and it involves you, me, and bringing down those bitches," Blaine said as he touched my leg.
"Is this like that movie where the girl betrays everyone and shit?" I asked.
"Pretty much, but we're gonna do it a little differently," he said, with a grin. "And, of course, our first target is Quinn."
The next morning, after Blaine slept over with me…in my bed…, we went over to Quinn's, where I opened her back door, thank Gaga for my skill with a nail file, then Blaine and I headed up to Quinn's room; she and Luke were sprawled out on the bed, nude. I shuddered and turned away to gag.
"Who's that?" Blaine asked.
"You don't wanna know," I replied. "Morning, Quinn," I then said cheerfully.
"Oh my God, Kurt, what are you doing here?" she asked drowsily.
"I brought a surprise for you," I said, grinning.
"What did you bring me? And why is he in my house?" she demanded, pointing at Blaine.
"He's here as a witness," I explained.
"Witness to what?" she looked confused.
"To himself," I said; Blaine took the chance to throw water on Luke, who spluttered as he jerked awake.
"What the fuck?" he yelled. "What the fuck are you doing here? Why did just throw water on me?"
"Luke, it wasn't water," I grinned.
"Wait, what? Oh my God, did you just...," he looked revolted.
"No, jack-off, he threw something much worse," I explained.
"Ow, oh God, that hurts! Please, God, stop it!" he got up and ran to Quinn's sink. It wasn't until he turned around Quinn started screaming. Yeah, Blaine threw acid on him; evil, isn't he?
"Now, Quinn, this is what you get for fucking with me," I said, turning towards Quinn.
"Kurt, don't do anything you'll regret," she snapped.
"I'm not gonna regret anything, because you deserve this, just like how everyone else deserves to be put down by you and your so-called friends, more like lackeys," I said.
"Kurt, I swear to God, don't you dare," she said, standing up.
"Your God won't save you now," I mocked.
"Tie her up," Blaine suggested. I complied and hung Quinn from the rafters in her room. "Now, this is what we call suicide. Everyone will think Miss Pretty Perfect Princess Quinn Fabray finally snapped and killed herself," I explained.
"Get me down from here!" Quinn screamed.
"Bye, Quinn; it was just fabulous knowing you," I smiled, kicking the chair out from where she was standing. She sputtered and gagged for a minute, then hung limp.
Later that day, Quinn's "suicide" had been reported all over school. I saw Brittany and Santana hugging each other. I honestly had nothing against those two, but their decision of a leader was just a tad off. Okay, Santana can be a huge bitch, but Brittany, she's just too clueless for her own good.
"Kurt, did you hear what happened?" Rachel Berry asked as she walked past me.
"Yeah," I replied; I didn't know the whole school would like collapse if the Queen Bee died.
"Sucks, but it's actually a lot better, now no one can tell us who we can and can't talk to," she replied, with a small smile. "I'll see you around."
"Later," I said nonchalantly.
"Dude, I can't believe Quinn killed herself," I heard Finn Hudson say a few minutes later to his best friend, Noah Puckerman, better known as Puck. "She was always so together, you'd never think she'd lose it and kill herself."
Finn and Puck walked by me, without the simplest acknowledgement; normally Puck would shove past me on his way, but today he didn't.
"Kurt?" I heard someone call my name. I looked up to see Ms. Pillsbury, the guidance counselor; she was waving her hand in front of my face, trying to get my attention. "Are you okay?" she asked.
"Yeah, just a little spaced," I said, with a deep breath. If I pretended to be saddened by this whole thing, no one would suspect a thing.
"I know you were friends with Quinn," she said, putting her hand on my shoulder.
"Yeah," I tried to sound sad.
"If you need anyone to talk to, you know I'm here," Ms. Pillsbury said, before walking away.
"Kurt, can you believe this?" Blaine asked as we sat down at our now-usual table in the cafeteria.
"Blaine, do you think we maybe went a little too far?" I asked.
"Are you saying you're gonna tell someone?" he asked, his dark eyebrows furrowing.
"No, it's just I think we may as well quit while we're ahead," I replied.
Blaine smiled and leaned forward. "Kurt, soon this school will be free and everyone can finally do whatever the fuck they want without getting shit about it," he said. He made it sound so convincing.
"Well done, you've convinced me," I said, smiling a little.
"Excellent." He leaned back in his chair.
After lunch was gym with Coach Beiste; she had just transferred here from somewhere else because Coach Tanaka had some kind of nervous breakdown, probably because his fiancée liked someone else. I walked into the locker room, only to find a bunch of guys looking down and out. Oh yeah, did I mention Quinn's a total whore? She's slept with almost every guy in the school and almost every guy had a thing for her at that.
"Hey, faggot," Karofsky shoved past me on his way out.
"What the hell is your problem?" I spun around and pursued him.
"What'd you say?" he turned and glared at me.
"I said, what is your problem? I'm gay, it's not some kind of disease you can catch, it's not like a big deal," I snapped.
"Get out of my face, homo," he snarled.
"No, you know why? Because there's nothing you can do to beat the gay out of me. Go ahead, hit me. Just go right ahead and hit me," I challenged.
He glared at me for a minute, then turned and stalked away. I shook my head and went to find Blaine.
"Blaine, I found someone else that needs to go," I reported, after finding him in the library. He was reading when I pulled him into a corner.
Looking intrigued, he looked at me with raised eyebrows. "Ooh, who?" he asked.
"The jocks, they have to go," I said. I was so pissed off, there's only so much I can take.
"I know the perfect way," he said, with a grin.
The next day was Saturday, and Blaine and I found Karofsky and Azimio lounging around the park, drinking out of paper bags.
"Kurt, are you sure you wanna do this?" Blaine asked, looking a little tense.
"I'm sure, hon, I'm sure," I replied, fixing the wig upright on my head. Blaine kissed me before I walked towards Karofsky and Azimio.
"Hi, boys," I said in a high – if not higher to my regular voice – voice. I was wearing a blond wig, red heels, a blue skirt, and a green sweater. Thank Gaga for the costume place – they had the best Madonna bra; you know, the one with the cone boobs.
"Hey, baby," Azimio walked around me, examining me. "Damn, you got a rack on you."
"Thanks, why don't go to the woods so we can do stuff," I purred.
The jocks followed me into the woods and Blaine followed, carrying a pistol. I was carrying one as well.
"Show me your bodies," I said, licking my lips. Good thing I watched all those movies – Fatal Attraction, Basic Instinct – teaches me how to be seductive.
They both removed their clothes, right down to the striped boxers. I threw up a little.
"Close your eyes, boys, and you'll get a big surprise," I whispered, pretending to reach to unhook the bra. They complied and I pulled out the pistol. "Open up," I said, switching back to my regular voice.
They opened their eyes and jumped backwards when they saw the gun pointed at them. "Don't move," I said, "or get shot."
"What the fuck?" Azimio muttered.
"That's right, guys; I ain't a girl, but you always called me one. The names, Lady, Lance Bass, and the slurs, Homo, Fag; you should've known that I'd snap sooner or later," I said, taking off my wig and wiping the lipstick off.
"Put down the gun, Hummel, and we won't kill you," Karofsky said.
"I don't think so," I scoffed. "Get on your knees and grovel."
"No fucking way," Karofsky snarled. I fired the gun at his knees; he collapsed onto the ground.
"Now, if you step even the slightest bit out of line, you die," I explained. "Blaine," I called. He came out and pointed his gun. I heard a siren and Blaine and I spun around, giving Azimio the chance to run. I turned back around and fired, hitting him in the shoulder, but he kept going.
"I got this," Blaine said, chasing after Azimio.
"Look who's the victim now," I sneered, standing over Karofsky. At that moment, Blaine returned, dragging Azimio's dead body with him.
"I swear to God, Hummel, when I get out of this, I will kill you," Karofsky hissed.
"What are you talking about, when? You're not getting out of this," I said, with a nasty grin.
"Kurt, want me to tie him up?" Blaine asked, sounding hopeful.
"No, just leave him, he won't be going anywhere," I replied. "Get the stuff out."
Blaine took this chance to make the whole thing look like a suicide: he placed a gun in Azimio's cold, dead hand and pulled out two notes we wrote last night; they were suicide notes, written in the fairly limited vocabulary jocks like these two had, they were also coming out notes. I knew Karofsky was gay by the way he had kissed me six months ago. Blaine knew this too, because I'd told him.
"Well, it's time to go," I said, putting the gun to Karofsky's head. "Sorry it couldn't have been more fun." He tried to yell, but I shot him at that moment, killing him.
Later that day, an announcement came over the PA that two students had committed suicide; they wouldn't release the details of the suicide. At school, word was buzzing on why Karofsky and Azimio would kill themselves.
"Maybe they just couldn't take the pressure of the football season," I heard a girl whisper.
"No, I heard they were secret lovers," her friend replied.
Blaine and I were heading for Glee club when we saw everyone huddled around the piano.
"Hey, everybody, what's going on?" I asked, joining the group.
Everyone looked at me as if I did something.
"Did I do something wrong?" I asked, getting nervous. Blaine squeezed my hand.
"We just found out something we should've known a long time ago," Rachel said.
"What is it?" Blaine asked.
"Kurt," Mercedes turned to me, "did Karofsky kiss you?"
"How'd you guys find out?" I asked, feeling weak.
"I had cameras put in the locker room," Lauren said. "It was so we girls could…you know."
"We just found a tape from six months ago," Rachel added. "Is it true?"
"Yes," I muttered, not looking at them.
"Kurt." Artie rolled towards me. "Why didn't you tell us?"
"Because I just couldn't tell anyone," I replied. "Karofsky said he'd kill me if I told anyone."
"Guys, more people are dead," Finn burst into the room.
"Who is it?" Sam asked.
"Karofsky and Azimio, they killed themselves," Finn explained.
"Oh my God," Rachel looked scared.
"Suicide notes said that they were lovers," Finn replied.
"I can't believe this is happening," Tina said, Mike holding her.
"It'll all be okay, we have to look on the bright side," I said, putting a hand on Tina's shoulder.
The next day was Quinn's funeral, now it was Quinn, Karofsky, and Azimio's funerals.
"So a string of teenage suicides has come upon us," Reverend Cooper said as he blessed the coffins. "Let these three be remembered for the good they have brought us all."
"What good?" I yelled from the back of the church. Blaine elbowed me, but he was trying not to laugh.
Reverend Cooper cleared his throat and stood up straighter. "Now, friends and families of the deceased will remember them." Santana, Brittany, and some man I didn't recognize stood up and went to the pew.
"Quinn was a really good friend and, honestly, she would never kill herself," Santana said. "She had dreams, dreams a girl would kill for." Brittany, at her side, nodded, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. I was looking directly into Santana's eyes and her eyes were dancing. I knew the whole speech was phony; she was next in line for Queen Bee.
"My son," the man stood in front of the pew, "my only son, he was a nancy-boy." I realized that the man was Karofsky's dad. "But I still loved him," he began to sob. "Even if he was a sissy, he didn't act like one. Do you hear me, God? I love him; I love my dead gay son!"
Blaine nudged me and whispered, "Do you think he loved a son with a limp wrist pulse?" I covered my mouth, trying to stifle my laughter. I looked up long enough to see that suck-up Mariah Todd glare at me.
"What?" I mouthed at her. She just glared at me for another second before turning around. I rolled my eyes.
"Well, wasn't that a lovely funeral?" I said sarcastically as Blaine and I left the church. He snickered and put his arm around me.
"Kurt," I heard a voice from behind me. I turned to see Mariah Todd and her boyfriend, Chris Lawrence.
"What do you want?" I demanded.
"Look into yourself and confess your sins," she said ominously, pointing at me.
"That's the best you can do?" I scoffed. "Get out of here, bible-thumper."
"Don't talk to my girlfriend like that." Chris stepped forward.
"What are you gonna do, Chris, huh?" I stepped towards him. "Oh, please tell me. I am dying to know what you're gonna do." Chris was the kind of guy who talked shit, but never followed up on it.
"I thought so," I said a minute later when he still hasn't done anything. I took Blaine's hand and walked home.
Monday at school, Chris kept shooting me dirty looks and Mariah muttered some crap about sinning whenever she passed me, which she did before and after every class we had together, she knows I don't believe in God. After about four times, I stopped her in the hall.
"Okay, Mariah, stop your ridiculous religious crap," I said. "It's really annoying and I don't know what I'm gonna do next time you do it, so stop before something bad happens."
"Kurt Hummel, you will burn for your sins," was all she said. I walked over to Chris, who was watching us and grabbed him.
"Chris, shut your girlfriend up or I will," I said, "and if I have to shut her up, I'm gonna shut you up too." I let him go and walked to Glee club.
"Okay, so despite the students we've lost in the past week," Mr. Schue said, "we're going to keep practicing for Sectionals. Kurt, you're getting a solo this time."
"Well, it's about fucking time," I muttered, looking up. Rachel's the one who usually gets the solos, and she gets all uptight when she doesn't. I've actually been practicing a solo that I wanted to sing to Blaine, I just don't think I'm brave enough to actually sing it to him.
"Do you have anything, Kurt?" Mr. Schue asked.
"Actually, I do, I just don't know if I should," I replied, blushing as I looked at Blaine, who smiled.
"Just tell Brad what to play," he said.
I handed Brad the sheet music and sat on the piano as I started to sing.
"You're just too good to be true
Can't take my eyes off of you
You'd be like heaven to touch
I want to hold you so much
At long last love has arrived
And I thank God I'm alive
It's just too good to be true
Can't take my eyes off of you"
I jumped off the piano and walked towards Blaine.
"Pardon the way that I stare
There's nothing else to compare
This side of you leaves me weak
There are no words are left to speak
But if you feel like I feel
Please let me know that it's real
You're just too good to be true
Can't take my eyes off of you"
I took Blaine's hand and pulled him up; I kissed him to the whoops of the others.
That night, I was sitting with Blaine at the theater, seeing Burlesaret; I held his hand as Salli Rowles sang "You Haven't Seen the Last of Cabaret". As the show ended, we walked outside, only to find Santana and Brittany waiting at my car. I groaned and walked over.
"Need anything, ladies?" I asked.
"Yeah," Santana said. "I need your power."
"What the fuck are you talking about?" I asked, thinking I'd misheard her.
"I'm head Cheerio now and no pansy is going to take the power of McKinley High from me," she snapped.
I must've looked completely out of it because Blaine waved his hand in front of my face.
"Kurt, are you okay?" he asked loudly.
"Yeah, just kinda thinking like 'what the fuck?'" I replied.
"I'm out, come on, Brits," Santana said, walking away; Brittany followed her.
"Ok, now that that's over with, I'm thinking homicide," I said, feeling a migraine coming.
"Sure, hon, but I think there's someone else that needs to be taken care of first," Blaine replied, nodding towards something behind me. I turned to see Mariah and Chris, Mariah was scattering some ashes all around my car and chanting gibberish, and Chris just stood there, looking amused.
"What the hell are you doing?" I yelled.
"Kurt Hummel, you are a sin waiting to happen," Mariah said ominously. "You must be cured of your disease immediately or be shunned to hell for all eternity."
"Chris, tell your girlfriend to knock it off and I'll knock her fucking block off," I yelled at Chris, shoving him towards Mariah.
"Mariah, I think Kurt's gone nuts, we should go," Chris said, trying to pull her away.
"I've gone nuts? Look who's talking!" I snapped.
"Homosexuality is a curse against religion, it is not right; God will strike you down for your wrongdoings, Kurt Hummel!" Mariah ranted as Chris pulled her away.
"Oh Gaga, what is wrong with those church-y people?" I asked Blaine as I drove home.
"Shall I write her down on the list?" Blaine asked, pulling a piece of paper from his back pocket.
"Please," I replied. He wrote down Mariah and Chris, and I pecked him a kiss on the cheek.
The next day at school, I walked in through the front doors, only to have all eyes on me.
"Oh great, what'd I do now?" I muttered. "All right, everyone, just tell me what I did!" I said loudly.
"Kurt, did you give power to Santana?" Rachel asked, coming up to me.
"She wouldn't go away until I gave it to her," I shrugged.
"Do you see what she's done to the school?" Rachel pointed at a group of random people, all of whom I now noticed were wearing Cheerios uniforms, some of the guys went as far as to wearing the skirts. Even I didn't want to see this.
"Oh my Gaga, what happened here?" I felt repulsed.
"She did all this earlier," Rachel explained. "She has everyone wearing a Cheerios uniform or else they're what she calls 'untouchables'; that means no one can talk to them. As you can see, I'm one; I rebelled against wearing the skirt. Everyone else in Glee club rebelled too, so we're still at the bottom."
"Oh shit, I'm so sorry, Rachel, and to everyone else," I said, shaking my head as if this was some kind of bad dream.
"I know, Santana's like the fucking Antichrist, isn't she? I can't believe I dated her." Sam walked by followed by Finn and Puck.
"Kurt." Artie rolled toward me. "I don't know what the hell happened here, but we gotta fix this."
"You guys don't have to worry about this, I can fix this. I'm the one who has to," I replied, walking away and pulling out my phone to call Blaine.
"Blaine?" I spoke into the phone when he picked up.
"Kurt, did you see what the school's come to?" he asked.
"Sadly, yes, it's agony," I said. "Where are you?"
"I see you coming towards me," he replied, hanging up.
I embraced Blaine and held onto him. "We both know what has to be done here," I said. "And you know what else? I'm tired of making it look like a suicide; it's so much extra work."
"So we just kill them and go?" he asked.
"I'm all for that," I said, kissing him.
Later that day, I came outside to find that my car was vandalized. Fags will rot in hell was written on my door in huge red letters. I knew only two people who would have the gall to do this; and those two people, I felt like strangling right about now. I saw Mariah and Chris standing across the parking lot, just watching me. I walked over to them.
"Hello," I said rather pleasantly, smiling.
"Hi," Chris replied, imitating my tone.
"I know you did this," I said, pleasantly still, pointing at my car.
"No, we didn't," Mariah tried to look innocent.
"Don't fuck with me. I know two and only two people who would have the balls to pull this shit, and it's you two," I replied, trying to keep myself from exploding. "Now, look, this is your final warning: stay the fuck away from me, my car, my boyfriend, my friends, and pretty much anything that concerns me, or you'll both be sixty feet under," I snapped. "Got it?"
They nodded. I took a deep breath, turned on my heel, and walked away. I heard Chris say something about fags, and Mariah laughing. I spun around; they both looked away. I seethed and walked back to my car. I pulled out of my parking spot, drove over to Chris' white convertible, rolled down my window, and threw the excess garbage onto him and Mariah without a word. I brushed my hair back and drove away.
That night, I was sitting with Blaine, watching Xanadu again when I heard a car from outside. Dad was at a singles mixer, so Blaine and I had the place to ourselves. I ran outside long enough to see the white convertible speed away, screeching laughter coming from it.
"Fucking A," I muttered. I found a can of red spray paint on the ground. It was the same brand I had found out that was used earlier on my car. "Blaine, we're going out," I said, going back inside and grabbing my jacket.
"Who was it?" he asked.
"Who else would?" I scoffed.
"Want me to bring the stuff?" he asked.
"Yeah, looks like Lima's gonna have a double homicide tonight," I said.
Good thing I knew where Chris lived, courtesy of Lord Google. His convertible was parked lopsidedly outside and I saw things being thrown around from the window. I peeked inside and he and Mariah were pulling off each other's clothes, both of them laughing hysterically.
"Oh my God," I said, repulsed. "And she's supposed to be Miss Religious."
"Sneak in?" Blaine suggested.
"Yeah, sneak in," I confirmed.
We found that the back door was unlocked; Blaine locked it as he closed it behind him. We crept to the living room, where it was so revoltingly white I could almost puke. I pulled a chainsaw from my bag and started sawing things in halves; in short, I'd completely lost it. The noise was so loud I didn't hear Mariah and Chris come into the room, half naked.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Chris yelled.
"What does it look like?" I yelled in response.
"You're tearing apart my house!" he replied.
"Good guess, but wrong," I said, turning off the chainsaw.
"Then what are you doing?" Mariah asked.
"I'm going to commit homicide," I said, with a smile. The smile must've looked insane because they both backed away.
With Blaine's help, I had Chris and Mariah tied up; surprisingly, they didn't put up much of a fight. Millions of ideas for their demise ran through my head, it's all those horror movies I watch. I went snooping through the house for good torture tools, but not before putting on some rubber gloves; come on, I'm not stupid. I found a defribulator in Chris' parents' room; I took that downstairs and shocked Mariah silly before she twitched and went limp.
"No! Mariah!" Chris yelled.
"This is what you get for fucking with a psycho, especially a gay psycho," I said morosely. "Blaine, you do the honors." I went into the kitchen and got a soda; I heard screams, a "schwing!" then silence. "Blaine, you didn't use the defrib?" I walked back out to find Blaine wiping a samurai sword free of blood. "Where'd you get that?" I asked.
"Brought it from home, I always carry it," he replied.
"Where do you keep it?" I queried.
"It's what gives me such a good posture," he said with a grin.
"You bitch," I said and punched him in the shoulder. "Let's go home."
The next morning, it was all over school about Mariah and Chris. I heard two girls talking to their boyfriends.
"I heard she shocked herself and he machete-d his head off," the girl said.
Blaine and I looked at each other and started snickering. "This is fucking ridiculous," I said. "These people still think this madness is suicide."
"Kurt?" he stopped and looked at me.
"I'm listening," I said.
"I love you, more than anything else in the whole world," he said, taking my hand.
"I love you too, Blaine," I replied, squeezing his hand. "And all of our homicides will never break us apart. Or if you broke up with me, I'd have to snitch." I smiled. "I'm just kidding, baby. I'd never tell anyone, don't worry."
Part II
After school the next day, I saw a group of people in blue jackets standing around in the parking lot; I heard one of them talking. I ran over to find Jesse St. James, the biggest douche in the world, talking to Rachel. I shoved him.
"What the hell are you doing here?" I demanded.
"Get lost, Hummel, before you get hurt," Jesse snapped.
"Up yours," I pushed my hair back before shoving him again.
"You little...," he started for me, but Rachel stepped in front of me.
"Kurt, I can take care of this," she said quietly.
"Rachel, he's a dick," I replied, "and you're one of us, so fuck him."
"I know, just stand back for a second?" she asked.
"Fine," I sighed and stepped back.
"Thanks for helping me find my mom, Jesse, but Kurt's right, you are a dick," she said.
"I loved you," was his only reply.
"I doubt that," Rachel said.
"Okay, she knows, dickhead, now vanish, hopefully into thin air," I ordered.
"You're in for it, Hummel, just to let you know that," Jesse threatened before turning away and leaving with his friends. I rolled my eyes and walked with Rachel back into the school.
"Kurt, you didn't have to do that," Rachel said as we walked to the music room.
"Why? You're my friend, despite how irritating you are," I said that last part under my breath.
"Thanks, Kurt. That means a lot," she replied, giving me a hug.
"What's going on?" Finn walked by at that moment, followed by Puck, Artie, and Sam.
"Kurt just helped me, that's all," Rachel pecked Finn on the cheek and walked away.
"What happened?" Artie asked.
"Jesse and his Vocal Adrenaline drones, what else?" I replied.
"But like what happened? Did he try and egg her again?" Finn asked, his fists flexing.
"No, but now, according to Jesse, 'I'm in for it'," I scoffed, using air quotes.
The other guys punched me in the shoulder playfully and left. I pulled out my phone and called Blaine.
"Hey, hon, where are you?" I asked when he picked up.
"I'm on the other side of the school, heading to the music room; something wrong?" he said.
"No, but I was just threatened by a douche," I replied.
"Who was it?" he asked.
"Jesse St. James," I said, with an air of sarcasm.
"Oh, him, yeah, he's a douche," Blaine sympathized. "Why? You want him gone?"
"Yep," I said simply.
"Tonight, we'll do it," he said.
"Okay. I love you," I replied.
"Love you too," he said, before I hung up.
After Glee club, I drove to Carmel High with Blaine and found Jesse getting into his SUV. I pulled up next to him and rolled down the window.
"Hello," I said pleasantly.
"What the fuck are you doing here? You want your ass kicked now?" Jesse snapped.
"No, I just came to tell you that you, sir, are a douchebag," I replied, keeping the pleasantness in my voice.
"Hummel, get out of the car and say that to my face," he said, getting out of his car and standing at my door.
"Will do," I smiled. I got out of the car and stood in front of him. "Go ahead, douchebag, hit me."
He raised his fist and said, "Don't push me, kid. I'll fucking punch you."
"You say you'll do it, but you don't," I taunted.
"I said don't fucking push me, Hummel." Jesse was turning red now.
"Okay, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that," I said, feigning sincerity. He turned away to keep from exploding, then he turned back to me, only to stumble backwards. I had pulled out a gun when he turned away.
"Whoa, what the fuck?" he muttered.
"That's right, St. Douche," I said. "Just back the fuck up."
"Are you crazy?" Jesse demanded.
"You figured me out, great job," I said sarcastically. "You're so smart, Jesse. Oh, I wish I was as smart as you!"
"Kurt, calm down, you're scaring me," Blaine said from the car.
"I'm sorry, it's just so much fun, and you should try it." I doubled over and motioned for Blaine to get out. He sighed and got out of the car.
"Kurt, I swear to God, the things you make me do," I heard him mutter.
"Okay, I'm calm." I looked around to make sure no one was around, and then turned back to Jesse, who had closed his eyes.
"Just shoot me if you're going to do it," he said.
"This is not the Jesse St. James I know; I wanna make you suffer, just like you made the lot of us suffer last year," I replied. "Blaine, hon, will you tie him up, please? I want to do this somewhere more private."
As I drove back to McKinley, Jesse kept kicking the back of my seat from beyond the ropes that bound him. After it finally drove me crazy – if not more so than already – I pulled over, turned around in my chair, and threatened him.
"Jesse, kick my chair one more time and I'll beat the hell out of you, got it?" I said. He rolled his eyes and kicked me again. "Okay, that's it!" I got out of the car, went to the back, opened the door, and punched Jesse in the face. He whined behind his gag. "God, you're such a pussy, you know that? Be a man and take it," I said. I punched him again, and then got back into the front seat. He didn't do anything the rest of the way except whine every few minutes.
I pulled up into the school parking lot and pulled Jesse from the back seat. He whined the whole time as Blaine and I tied him to a tree. I pulled out his gag and said, "Got any last words, St. Douche?"
"I fucking hate you, Kurt Hummel," he said.
"Well, nice to know you actually remembered my name," I smiled.
"Please don't leave me here," he pleaded before I could shove the gag back in.
"You shouldn't have been such a dick then, which would've helped your cause, not just to me, to Rachel, Finn, everyone else in the Glee club, you probably broke a bunch of other hearts too," I replied morosely. "Well, nice knowing you, Jesse, but it's time to go." I slit his throat, and released the binds of the tree.
"Oh my God," Rachel said as she walked into the music room the next morning.
"Rachel, what happened?" Mr. Schue asked.
"Jesse's dead," she replied. "Someone slit his throat and bound him to a tree outside. I just can't believe someone would do that."
"As much as that guy was a douche, he didn't need to die," Finn admitted, embracing Rachel.
I looked at Blaine sitting next to me; his face was a pale white.
"Blaine, hon, what's wrong?" I whispered, taking his hand.
"I can't do this anymore," he said, tears welling up in his eyes. "I can't take the feeling that I can't tell anyone."
"I can," I smirked and hugged Blaine. "We'll stop, okay? If it makes you feel better, we'll stop."
"Thanks, Kurt," he looked at me and smiled. I ran a hand through his dark, curly hair and kissed him. As I pulled away, he was smirking.
"What?" I asked.
"Did you actually believe that?" he laughed.
"Blaine, you are such a bitch," I punched him in the shoulder. He punched me back and tried to wrestle me down. "Babe, not here," I grinned.
Once everyone else left the room, I stood up in front of Blaine and bent down on one knee.
"Blaine, you are the best boyfriend a gay guy could ever have. Will you do me the honor of being my prom date?" I asked, trying to suppress my grin.
"I'd be honored, my love," he replied. I squealed and jumped into his arms.
"Let's do it, right here," I purred. "School's out, no one will ever know." I pulled off my shirt and licked Blaine's lips. "Come on, baby, do me right on this floor."
"With pleasure," he said. He pulled his red sweater off, revealing those pecs I'd been able to see through the sweater. He put me down gracefully on the floor and unbuckled his pants.
"Give it to me, Blaine Anderson," I pulled him down by the neck and kissed his neck. He turned himself around and began to ride me.
At the end of our little music room intercourse session, I took Blaine's hand and we walked out together; it was starting to get dark.
"What are you two still doing here?" I heard a sharp voice from behind us.
"Coach Sylvester, you scared me," I sighed when I turned to see the cheerleading coach.
"Porcelain, Hobbit, why are you still here?" she asked.
"We were practicing a duet for Nationals," Blaine put in quickly.
"I heard no piano," she said frostily.
"We were using my iPod," I ad-libbed.
"Well, you two should be getting home," Coach Sylvester turned away and walked over to her LeCar. Blaine and I watched as she started her car, only for the engine to turn over. We saw tater tots pop out of her tailpipe. Stifling laughter, Blaine and I got into my car and took off before Coach Sylvester could try and blame us.
At school the next morning, everyone seemed kind of out of it, some even looking a little disoriented.
"Something's wrong here," I said to Blaine as we held hands on our way to Glee club. "I have yet to hear a nasty remark about my sexuality."
As we entered the music room, I had everyone's eyes on me. "Can someone please tell me what is going on? People out there look all fucked up," I said. "And by fucked up, I mean spaced out, some guy's eyes were facing opposite directions, it was really creepy."
No one said anything. "Guys, what's going on?" I raised my voice to no avail. I turned to Blaine. "Blaine, I'm scared," I said; he took my hand and we went outside. As we got outside, I saw Coach Sylvester looking at her watch.
"Coach, what's happening?" I walked over to her.
"Had the school fumigated," she replied.
"But there's students in there," I protested.
"Well, they shouldn't have gone in then," she said.
I was speechless, I couldn't form a word; Blaine put a hand on my shoulder and pulled me away.
Later that day, I was sitting in Blaine's room; we were listening to Britney's new CD and making out when my phone vibrated. I sighed and answered. The caller ID said 'Restricted'.
"Hello? Who are you? Why are you calling me?" I said.
"Kurt Hummel," a gravelly voice said.
"Ok, prankster, hang up and never call me again," I snapped and hung up. "Prank calls, they're such a bitch," I said to Blaine before pushing him back onto the bed and kissing him. The phone vibrated again.
"What the hell do you want from me?" I demanded.
"I know what you did," the voice said.
"Ok then, what did I do?" I challenged.
"You killed Quinn Fabray," the voice retorted.
"She killed herself, that's not my fault." I was about to start laughing. I put the phone on speaker so Blaine could hear this.
"Acid was thrown on her boyfriend," the voice continued.
"She must've gone crazy, she was always a bitch," I replied.
"You also killed David Karofsky and Azimio," the voice said.
"That was a suicide based on their forbidden homosexual love for each other," I snickered. Blaine elbowed me and got out his phone to record this.
"What about Mariah Todd and Chris Lawrence?" the voice asked.
"I don't know, she was a bible-thumper and he was her bitch," I broke out laughing. "Why are you asking me this anyway?"
"I want to know what kind of people I'm looking at," the voice replied.
I stopped laughing. "I'm sorry, what did you just say?" I asked.
The voice laughed a deep, mocking laugh. "I said I want to know what kind of people I'm talking to," it said.
"No, you said 'looking at'," I started getting scared and Blaine took my hand.
"Did I? Well, mistakes are made, right?" I turned to Blaine and snuggled up to him while holding the phone.
"If you hang up on me again, it will be your last," the voice threatened.
I got up and went to my window. "I don't see anyone out there," I told Blaine, who shrugged.
"Of course you don't," the voice taunted.
"Okay, whoever the hell this is, if you are out there, what am I wearing?" I challenged.
"The newest Marc Jacobs jacket and a pair of plaid pants," the voice replied. I looked down.
"Oh fuck me," I muttered. I then heard the back door glass break downstairs. "Blaine, get the taser from my closet, now!" I hissed, holding the phone as far away from myself as I could. "Okay, now stand behind the door and get the bastard when they come in here," I said. He nodded and complied.
"So, what's new with you?" I offered the voice.
"I'm in your house," the voice replied.
"I surmised as much by the fact that I heard the back door shatter," I said monotonously.
"Don't get snarky, Hummel," the voice snapped.
"Or what, you're gonna stab me?" I retorted. "Get some new ideas."
The door burst open and the caller, who was wearing a ski mask, came at me with a hatchet.
"Holy shit!" I dove for the bed, managing to crawl underneath, and then I saw Blaine tase the sucker behind the knee. The attacker fell and started moaning while twitching and writhing, I pulled the ski mask off, only to find someone I didn't recognize.
"Who the hell are you?" I demanded.
"Lindy, Lindy Todd," the girl snarled at me.
"What are you doing?" Blaine asked, looking revolted.
"Touching me behind the knee makes me orgasm," she explained.
"Like ew," I said.
"You killed my sister," she coughed.
"Yeah, well, she deserved it," I replied tonelessly. "I don't care what you believe in, as long as you don't shove it down other people's throats; thing is, she did and her dumbass boyfriend too. How she even got a boyfriend is beyond me."
Blaine picked up the hatchet and chucked it out the window, only for us to hear another window break.
"If it's not on our property, its fine," I said, waving it away. "Lindy Todd, I'm sorry about your sister. If she just learned to keep her damn mouth shut, none of this would've happened. Now run on home and tell no one."
Lindy got up, looked at me scathingly, and ran out of the house.
"Well, that was insane," Blaine muttered as we picked up the broken glass from the back door.
"I know, right?" I sighed. I ran a hand through my hair and sat down on the counter.
"Kurt, are you okay?" Blaine sat next to me and put an arm around my shoulder.
"I am so tired of this. I think I've gone nuts or something. If I believed in God, there would be no repentance for all this," I replied.
"I love you, Kurt. If you want to end this, it's your choice. I'm not going to stop you," he kissed me on the cheek.
"Thanks, love," I leaned on him and closed my eyes.
The next morning, I walked into school, ignoring all the looks and whispers surrounding me. Gaga, how many times must this happen to me? I found Blaine hanging out by my locker.
"Hey, hon," I kissed Blaine. He smiled and swept me off my feet, only to lean in for another kiss.
"We're in a good mood, aren't we?" I asked breathlessly. I'm not used to being picked up in any way; especially after all those dumpster tosses last year.
"It's prom night, Kurt. And you know what that means, right?" Blaine growled sexily.
"Dancing with my hot boyfriend is what it means," I replied slyly.
"No! What we do after prom is what matters," he purred, slapping me on the butt. I shrieked and covered my mouth.
"God, you two, get a room," Puck walked by, hand in hand with Lauren. We sniggered as they continued walking.
"Take me to prom and let's have an eventful night, and hopefully one that doesn't turn out badly," I said. I should've known better.
Blaine picked me up in front of my house at 7 that night. I saw Blaine in a tux as I stepped out the door; my dad had lent me an old blue tuxedo of his and of course I made it more me, we got into his Rolls Royce and drove to McKinley, where couples were mingling outside. A lot of people stared at us as we got out of the car. I was really sick of this by now and rounded on them as Blaine and I got to the stairs.
"What are you staring at, huh? Every time I show up on this campus, you people look at me as if I'm nothing more than some kind of freak. What is it? Is it that I'm gay, I'm in Glee club, or that I have a boyfriend who threatens your beloved jocks with a gun?" I yelled. "Well, they're dead! And so is every sick fucker who ran this school with some sadistic shit on all of you!" Oh Gaga, that was good to get out of my system.
"Come on, Blaine, let's go," I took Blaine's hand and held my head high as we entered the auditorium.
"Kurt Hummel?" I heard a voice from behind me. I turned to see a tall brunet guy with square glasses offering his hand. "I'm sorry that everyone here is a righteous bitch; I'm not one of them, and I offer my apologies in joining them."
I shook the guy's hand. "What's your name? I've never seen you around," I said.
"Tyler Mitchell; I've only been here a few weeks and from what I've witnessed, everyone here is, like I said, a righteous bitch. I know how it feels to be an outcast, I get a lot of shit because I'm gay," he said.
"Well, it's about time we're not the only openly gay kids in school." I smiled. Tyler shook my hand again and walked in.
"Nice guy," I said to Blaine, who nodded.
Of course, Principal Figgins had to go and get the Glee club set for prom entertainment, but I wormed my way out. You don't want to know what I had to do to get out of it. So lined up for tonight's "entertainment" are Rachel (probably singing something Broadway); the guys, consisting of Puck, Sam, and Artie (singing Katy Perry; I don't know, can't be worse than last year when they did Rebecca Black); and Tina, Brittany, and Santana (I don't know what they're doing, but Britt told me it'd be good). I walked with Blaine to the punch table to find Puck and Artie talking in whispers.
"Guys, you're not gonna try and spike Coach Sylvester's punch again, are you?" I asked, pouring Blaine a cup.
"Not this time, we're gonna give this school a prom to remember," Puck said before wheeling Artie away.
"Oh, this won't end well," I said to Blaine.
"Kurt?" Blaine took my hand and led to the dance floor as Rachel began to sing Roberta Flack.
"That's an improvement from her usual repertoire," I remarked as we swayed lightly to Rachel's voice.
"Strumming my faith with his fingers
Singing my life with his words
Killing me softly with his song
Killing me softly with his song
Telling my whole life with his words
Killing me softly
With his song
"I heard he sang a good song
I heard he had a style
And so I came to see him to listen for a while
And there he was, this young boy
A stranger to my eyes
"Strumming my faith with his fingers
Singing my life with his words
Killing me softly with his song
Killing me softly with his song
Telling my whole life with his words
Killing me softly
With his song."
I embraced Blaine during the dance and he kissed me. As we parted, I heard a sharp intake of breath; I opened my eyes to see Lindy Todd glaring at me.
"Seeing as how it's prom night, Miss Crazy Pants, where's your date? Oh, wait; you don't have one, do you? 'Cause you're fucking crazy," I snickered, still swaying with Blaine. "So what do you want?"
"Your head on a stake in my basement," she hissed.
"Good luck with that, psycho," Blaine smirked. I kissed him again, this time more to irritate Lindy.
"Everyone stand back!" Lindy screeched abruptly as she pulled out a gun and fired into the air.
Everyone screamed and backed away as Lindy advanced on me and Blaine; we tried to back away as well, but Lindy shot into the air again.
"You two stay right where you are," she snarled. We froze, still holding hands; Lindy took the chance to break our hands apart by hitting us with the butt of the gun.
"Why don't you tell everyone why I'm doing this, Hummel?" she asked, her voice becoming dangerously calm.
"Everybody," I called out. "Lindy's pissed off because we're gay and she's finally gone fucking nuts." I yelled and ducked as Lindy pulled the gun on me and shot the punch bowl, which exploded. I saw Puck and Artie rise up briefly from behind the table.
"Tell them the truth," she hissed, "or I'll kill your beloved Glee club dorks." She had pointed the gun at a shaking Rachel and Finn, who were up against the wall next to Sam and Tina. I sighed and took the microphone from the stage.
"I'll give you the truth," I said as I turned on the mic, setting off a screeching feedback. Everyone complained loudly and I saw a cup of punch fall off the table onto the power surge next to the table, which began to spark. "Uh, whoever's over by that punch table should move right now." I tried to keep my eyes on Lindy and the table at the same time. Puck pushed Artie's wheelchair out of the way in time as the surge exploded. One of the plugs shot through the air and hit someone coming back into the auditorium. As the person fell, I saw it was that Tyler kid.
As Tyler hit the ground, his hand grazed the auditorium's strobe light switch and the lights started flashing and the fire sprinkler went off, causing a great deal of complaints. Lindy, standing underneath the nozzle of one of the sprinklers, got hit with a full force of water. She looked like Carrie with the pig's blood as she started for me and Blaine. But she slipped on a particularly wet spot and tripped on a fallen prom dancer, hitting her head on the bleachers. I looked over her shoulder to see blood gushing out of her head.
"Holy shit, she's dead," I muttered. Blaine put his hand on my shoulder and I backed up, only for Lindy to stand up, one hand pressed to her head. She staggered towards us and pulled the gun in front of her; she pulled the trigger.
And nothing came out but a click.
"Goddamn it, fucking gun's empty," Lindy cursed, taking her eyes off Blaine and I, long enough for me to take the chance to shove her backwards; she fell and cracked the back of her head on the bleachers.
"Okay, everybody, I think she's finally dead," I said to Blaine and the crowd of people that had gathered around. Lindy's eyes flickered open and everyone backed away. "Bitch, why won't you die?" I snapped. She sat up briefly, only to fall back onto the bleachers; this time the back of her head caught the corner and I saw her eyes roll up into her head.
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure she's dead now," I remarked. "But just to make sure, can someone give me a stick?" Sam handed me a pointer and I poked at Lindy's body.
"Kurt, she's dead," Blaine said in a final tone. He held up her wrist and said, "She has no pulse. We're good."
"Is this over?" I complained to a wary-looking Blaine.
"Yeah, I think so," he said, putting an arm around me.
"Hey, guys. What was Lindy talking about the truth?" Mercedes asked, walking up behind me.
"Probably some crazy religious gibberish about me going to hell," I shrugged. "Now come, Blaine, we didn't get to finish our dance." But the screeching feedback returned as Principal Figgins walked onstage.
"Students, due to recent events and the attempted homicide from one of our students which ended in her untimely demise, prom is now over," Figgins said, resulting in many complaints and moans. "But prom king and queen will receive their dance before the ambulance arrives. Your McKinley High 2012 prom king is…Sam Evans." I applauded with everyone else as Figgins placed the crown on Sam. "And your prom queen is…Brittany Pierce." Everyone cheered and hooted and I saw a very pissed off-looking Santana in the corner. As Sam and Brittany made their way to the center of the semicircle, Tina, Mercedes, and Rachel came onstage and started to sing. I took Blaine's hand and we danced too.
"Here we are
Safe at last
We can breathe a sigh
Seems the storm has passed
Through it all
No one knew
That all the tears in heaven
Would bring me back to you, oh
No one I know
Imagined we would make it
But it only meant is that we both believed
"You and me, we're a miracle
Meant to be and nothing can change it
Mountains move and oceans part
When they are standing in our way
You and me, we're a miracle
Angels stand watching over us
And heaven shines upon us every day, oh yeah"
A/N2: Okay, if you managed to read the whole awful thing, do you mind leaving a review?