Maybe tomorrow the good lord will take you away.

"Kurt, you really shouldn't go near it."

"I think it's a him, Finn."

"Dude!"

"Finn, look at the size of him! It's a little hard to miss!"

"Don't go near him, Kurt!"

"Yeah dude, listen to Rachel!"

"Finn! Finn, wake up!"

Finn slowly calmed down, not that his slumber was riddled with thrashing and screams, but he'd broken a cold sweat and was mumbling incoherent words.

Kurt looked down at Nilla, 'He's probably too lazy to thrash around in his dreams."

Kurt chuckled as he looked down at his feet, tempted to shuffle them from the concrete stance they'd taken to. A tendency he'd succumbed to while watching in on people's dreams, an ability he figured he had on the twelfth day. But that's not to say he knew how to use it, he'd just see them. He knew how to get out, just not how to get in.

He'd have to ask Elisa about it. Right now, he had to go check on Carole.

She and Burt worked through their stuff after the thing with Finn and Kurt went down. Mainly with Finn's pushing, guilt can be a powerful force to get something done and Finn used it perfectly. He felt it was his responsibility.

Then Carole announced she was pregnant and he felt queasy. Kurt knew before the rest of them did, even Carole herself. One of the perks of being dead, he guessed.

"Carole?" Kurt whispered as he stepped through the open door of the adult's room. He'd knock but only the dead would hear it and the door would move a few inches if he hit it hard enough.

"Little ditty, 'bout Jack and Dianne" Carole mumbled, the song had been stuck in her head for a week and sung it when she did her house work, such as her current job of putting away laundry. Kurt was tempted to join in, but he knew the song would only get stuck in his head as well and another Mellencamp song stuck in his head was one thing he really didn't need; he still had trouble getting the week long, seemingly everlasting record of 'Rain on the Scarecrow' out of his head.

"Finn should be helping you, Carole" Kurt stated simply as he stared at the cat sitting in the corner of the room. The people who owned the house before Burt and Kirsty Hummel bought it owned the tabby with a disposition of a rabid Doberman, and left her behind when they moved. Kurt could remember her till the age of four, after that she just simply wasn't there. He remembered calling her Puppy, because he was stupid when he was two.

"If Finn needs to get out of bed, you should haunt him out of it" the cat stated dryly.

'Don't worry Kurt,' Brittany would say, 'I talk to my cat sometimes too.'

"You shouldn't be able to talk" Kurt said as he slid down the wall to sit next to the cat.

"For a gay man, you have a very short minded view on talking cats."

"That doesn't even make sense, Puppy" Kurt chuckled, elbowing the cat lightly, "What happened to you?"

"For the last year with you and your parents, I was a zombie" Puppy stated as if it were obvious.

The main image that pops into ones head when they hear 'zombie' is a rotting corpse digging its way up from its grave and feasting on brains. Not true. Zombies are ghosts who have the fortune of being able to live within their corpse, among the living. They have the ability to see ghosts, and can tell whether or not someone is a fellow zombie, they can phase through walls and decide on which humans can see them. But a zombie cannot age, and the state their body is in when they die is the state in which it stays. They choose when their spirit leaves their body to become ghosts, invisible to the living.

In short, zombies are the lucky bastards who get to choose when they physically die, and are the things you see out of the corner of your eye, but when you turn to look, is totally gone.

"So you just decided it was time?" asked Kurt.

"Yes, and I nearly scratched your eyes out, if I didn't leave your father would've bricked me."

"Why can you talk?"

"Some old codger gave her voice to me. She seemed determined to enter her next life a mute" Puppy answered, looking up at Kurt with her blue left eye and green right eye, "Rumour has it you got bitten by a dog."

"Yeah, rumour has it right."

"Call that Elisa girl," Puppy ordered as she stretched her back, "You're obviously still clueless, how long you been dead?"

"Three months and a week exact" Kurt answered staring at the ceiling. The day before, he'd decided to follow Puck around and learned he'd been counting day by day of a lot of things. Kurt had lost count of days in general; they'd come and go as quick as the one before. He tried counting, but found little point after two weeks.

"Don't count. It's bad for you toes."

And with that, Puppy faded away leaving Kurt, Nilla and Carole alone with only Carole as she did her house work.

-:-

"Finn, get the hell up and clean the kitchen."

"No, Mum get Kurt to do it!"

"Finn!"

"Nnnnahhaha!" Finn wailed as he dragged himself out of bed. Saturday mornings weren't meant for house work... two o'clock Saturday day, however.

"That's a new one" Kurt mused, as he sat in front of the TV. The living may not be able to see what's on, but ghosts could use whatever they wanted without the living knowing. Until the living took over whatever it was the ghost was using, then the ghost had to make a copy of it that the human couldn't see. Creating a copy of something wasn't a hard feat, you just had to go pick a human object up and a ghost copy would enter your hands instead. That's how Kurt kept his look fresh every day.

"Damn, I just said get Kurt to do it didn't I?" Finn groaned as he slumped next to Kurt on the couch.

"Yes you did, now go clean the kitchen like your mummy dearest told you," Kurt said as he flicked through the channels, changing stations with a quick flick of his eyes.

"Yes Finn, you did and you're lucky Burt isn't here. Now clean the kitchen, I need a sleep" Carole said, shooing Finn towards the kitchen.

"Dwaaww," Kurt cooed, "Mummy needs some new shoes, you should go treat yourself."

Carole sat in the recliner and reclined. Quickly she'd fallen asleep and started snoring quietly. Kurt felt this was his queue to leave, he wanted cake anyway.