Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or anything this is based on.

Note: No reviews on that last chapter? Ah, well. Try to review in the future, my dear readers of this story, so I can get (constructive) feedback on it. Thanks.

I followed Finn to school the next day. He didn't want to go, and Carole said he could stay home if he wanted to, but I guess he felt as if he had to tell people in person. I shivered as I slid into the choir room after him, watching it slowly fill with my friends. Tina was smiling; had she not heard? I supposed not, as Finn had begged Rachel not to tell anyone else. I found it strange, though, that my death had not made the news in any way, and that my friends in Glee had no idea that I was gone. I sat in my usual seat, praying no one would accidentally sit on top of me. Rachel came in, looking an absolute wreck. "Rachel, what's wrong?" Mr. Schuester asked.

"I…I guess I'm just not feeling well," she lied.

"No," Finn stood up. "She's fine. I just asked her to hold something back from you guys." He took a deep breath. "Kurt committed suicide yesterday."

"What?" Mr. Schue asked incredulously. "Finn, no…"

"It's true," Finn's hands were shaking. "He shot himself…right in the heart…"

"Oh my God," Santana muttered as Brittany clutched her hand in shock.

"No," Tina moaned, dissolving into tears, burying her head into Mike's shoulder.

"Kurt," Rory muttered, looking crushed. I was surprised; I'd hardly gotten to know him.

"No," Blaine's face paled. "Finn, that's not true…Kurt was fine, I saw him yesterday…"

"Apparently, he wasn't," Finn trembled. "Because he went home around eleven and killed himself. I got there…too late…" he broke off into a sob.

"No…" Blaine's face twisted in agony. "No!" He stood up and knocked over the chair next to him, sending me sprawling to the floor.

"Blaine…" I whispered, reaching out to him. "Honey, please don't…"

Blaine yelled in anger, beating his fists against the wall. "No! No! No!"

"Blaine, calm down," Mr. Schue implored, tears in his eyes.

"My fucking boyfriend is fucking dead, Mr. Schuester," Blaine screamed at him.

"Calm your dapper ass down, Anderson," Puck said sternly. "We're just as upset about this as you. I may not have loved the little dude as much as you did, but he was still like family to me, to all of us."

"Sam, come here," Mr. Schue said quietly. He whispered something into the blonde's ear that I couldn't pick up on. I was still on the floor, quivering at the sight of my boyfriend losing his sanity over my death. My God, what have I done? I followed Sam out of the room, unable to stand watching this anymore. The hallways seemed so different, so much changed, though I was in them not even twenty-four hours ago. The odd person or two who walked by shivered as I passed them; could they feel me? Was I already haunting the school? I ended up in Miss Pillsbury's office, listening to Sam tell her what happened.

"Sam, what's wrong?" She looked at him in concern over the twisted look of grief that had clouded over his face as the news sunk in.

"Kurt Hummel's dead," he said, voice breaking on the last syllable.

"What?" She shot up out of her chair. "Just now?"

"Killed himself yesterday," he mumbled. "Finn just told us. Blaine's freaking out. Mr. Schue wants you to come to the choir room…grief counseling…"

"Of course," she quickly hurried out of her office and to the choir room, Sam dragging his heels behind her.

"What have I done?" I sunk to my knees. "What have I done to them?"

I tried to run, I really did, but I was chained to the school, unable to run away from my horrible mistake. I thought I would be happier and better off dead; now that I was stuck between the Living and the Dead, I was more miserable than ever before. I shuffled my feet to the choir room, where an emergency, private grief session was taking place.

"My favorite memory of Kurt," Rory was saying, "well, I haven't known him too long, but he did give me a cookie one day when he saw that I was looking sad, and I thought that was really nice of him."

"My favorite memory about Kurt," Tina sniffled, dabbing a tissue to her eye, where her makeup had run. "Is that he was always there for me. Like during GaGa week, when we got harassed in the halls for wearing our costumes. He stood up for me, even though it cost him once or twice."

"He was my dolphin," Brittany said sadly. "And I always thought dolphins were supposed to be happy and untroubled. It makes me sad that he wasn't and that he couldn't tell us about it."

Santana broke down weeping. "Santana?" Mr. Schue asked.

"It makes me so scared," she admitted, "that he was gay, and he was out, and he got so harassed, he got the shit beat out of him verbally and physically and emotionally, and he took his own life because he felt he had nowhere to turn." She gulped for breath. "I'm just so afraid that it could happen to me someday, or to other gay youths…I never thought he would be one of them…he was the 'It Gets Better' of McKinley."

"Yeah," Mike nodded. "It scares me that none of knew he was even suicidal. If we did, maybe we could've saved him, or gotten him to talk to someone."

"I've thought about it," Artie spoke up quietly. "Killing myself, that is. I'm just stuck in this chair for life. I can't do so many things, and I've missed out on so much in life because I can't use my legs. But then I joined Glee club, and I found that my talents were appreciated and used. Suddenly, I had friends that saw me as more than The Boy in the Wheelchair. They saw me as me, Artie Abrams. I'm just…upset…that Kurt couldn't see that we felt the same about him. He wasn't just That Gay Kid Kurt to us. He was Kurt Hummel, amazing singer and friend."

Everyone was silent for several moments. "Artie," I murmured, shaking with the revelation. I was relieved that he, too, hadn't taken his own life, but was afraid to know that he had thought about it, and I didn't know. We had been friends since we were toddlers; how had I not known?

"I think we're all feeling a lot of grief right now," Mr. Schue spoke up. "And we're probably feeling a little bit of guilt that we hadn't known how Kurt was feeling. But I'm not quite sure he'd want us all to mope around."

"Right," Rachel nodded, sniffling. "He'd want the grandest, most spectacular, classy funeral ever, and he'd want us to perform for him, as a group."

"No," I shook my head, crying softly, grabbing onto the back of her chair. "No, Rae, that's not what I wanted…I just wanted you all to forget…"

"So it's settled then," Miss Pillsbury clapped her hands twice. "And if any of you guys need to talk to me about this, my door is always open. I know Blaine went home because he was having trouble dealing with the grief, and if any of you would like to be excused, I'll sign you out, no questions asked."

I looked around the room; Blaine must've left when I was in her office, and I just hadn't seen him. God, how could I have hurt him like that?

Fix what you've done to your friends, Kara Evans' voice rang in my mind.

But I had no idea where to begin.