It's a Fall Tuesday in Ohio. The leaves on the trees in Lima have just started changing into beautiful oranges and starlets. Children who are too young for school are out playing in leaf piles that their parents rake together. An elderly couple walks along the sidewalk. They hold each others gloved hands as the wind blows fallen leaves around them. The sun above ducks behind clouds, casting shadows on the ground below. The only car on the streets is a black Navigator. The driver pulls into the driveway of a small, one story home. A seventeen year old boy excites the car, dropping the keys on the seat and leaving the doors unlocked. His once perfect hair is cast in every direction as if he had been running his hand through it for a long period of time. Silent tears fall from his face and soak into his shirt. He makes no move to wipe them away as he walks into the house. He turns the dead lock on the door and walks to the kitchen. The house phone is blinking with 14 missed calls and messages. He slips his hand into his own pocket and pulls out his cell phone. He feels a stab of pain upon viewing the photo of him and his father as his background image. He clutches the counter, coughing and doubling over. He could almost hear his own heart breaking again. He takes a minute to calm his breathing before walking to the stairs leading down to his room. He flips the light on and shuts the door at the top of the stairs. He slowly makes his way down into his room. The room that once was a safe haven, now felt like a jail. He plugs his phone into the iHome and clicks play on the last song he was listening too before his day took a turn for the worst.
Love of mine some day you will die
But I'll be close behind
I'll follow you into the dark
The boy snorted at the irony of the song and put it on loop. He then turned to his mirror and pulled a picture down. If anything was left to break in his chest, it broke while clutching the picture. He sat on the edge of his bed and stared at the photo for what seemed like hours. The photo was of a beautiful woman with porcelain skin holding a newborn. Beside her stood a handsome man, his arms wrapped lovingly around her waist. Both man and woman were smiling down at their baby. The boy let out a shaky breath. He wiped his tears away and stood. He walked to his closet and sifted through his clothes until finding his best outfit. He stripped down and changed into the new clothes, tossing the first outfit into his hamper. He zipped up black studded boots and turned around to fix his hair in the mirror. Only then, when he looked his very best, did he pull out a sharpie and write his goodbyes on his mirror. They weren't long. The only person he had left was now gone. He capped the marker and set it down. He picked up the picture again. He gently pressed it to his lips, closing his eyes. He stood, motionless, collecting himself. Once ready, he kneeled and reached for something hidden under his bed. Finally his fingers hooked onto the rope and he pulled it out. He examined the noose at the end. He had tied the actual knot over a year ago. The rope was rough between his fingers. He stood on his bed and reached for the open pipe that ran overhead. His father had never finished the ceiling in the basement so there was one pipe that was still visible. He tied the other end of rope around the pipe and gave it a good tug. He had tested this multiple times so he knew it would hold. He then slipped the rope around his throat. Picture of his parents still in hand, Kurt Hummel stepped of his bed.