Of Unicorns and Angels

The rain fell incessantly from the grim grey sky, the wind whipping it up to blow in the faces of those assembled round the raw hole in the green swathe of Lima Cemetery. It made it harder to distinguish who actually crying and whose face was merely wet from the rain. Some were grateful for that, in others the wracking sobs made their condition painfully obvious.

It would have been easier to bear if there hadn't been someone to blame. There were those who had said "If only Puck hadn't sent that text"; "If only Blaine hadn't wanted to be the perfect gentleman"; "If only Kurt hadn't kissed him." The world is full of "If only…" It didn't alter the facts. It didn't stop them standing here on an unseasonably cold, bleak day, getting soaked to the skin. It wouldn't bring them back - nothing could.

All anyone could think was how quickly joy and happiness could turn into mind numbing grief. A grief so deep that it seemed impossible that they could ever escape it. All some of them wanted to do was to jump into the grave with them, so that their pain could be over…..