There, told you things would pick up in this chapter! Sorry if this seems a little choppy... It's just how I envisioned someone feeling after something like this happens. I'm posting this earlier than planned to celebrate Christmas break for me! Also, I know that a lot of people had finals this week... And some (like me) have some after break! So good luck to everyone who's taking them and still has to take them! Please forgive any inaccuracies.
Chapter One - Gone
Kurt's phone alarm rang, Applause by Lady Gaga ringing into his ears. Kurt rolled over and tried to ignore it, but then he remembered why it was ringing. Blaine was back today! Kurt slammed his hand onto his phone excitedly, silencing the song. Kurt sat up and rubbed his temples. It was perfect - Blaine was back, his headache was gone, and they had the whole day to themselves because Burt was working. Kurt jumped out of bed and started to make his way to his vanity before he realized what was wrong. He stopped in his tracks.
What was wrong
What was wrong
What was wrong with him?
No. What was wrong with the world.
What was wrong with the sun
What was wrong with his phone screen
What was wrong with his mirror
Why was the sun the only source of light
Why was there no reflection gazing back at him
What was wrong with the labels on his moisturizers
What was wrong
What was wrong
WHAT WAS WRONG.
Kurt collapsed onto the floor, burying his face into his knees, huddled into a ball. There was nothing wrong with him. He just got up too quickly, his head and eyes would adjust in a minute. Kurt cautiously lifted his head up again, and opened his eyes.
Nothing.
What was wrong
Kurt took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes together. His stomach was churning, but not from hunger like it was before.
Fear.
Isolation
Darkness
Darkness
Darkness everywhere
Darkness capturing him
Darkness enveloping him in its cold, sinister fingers
Darkness everywhere Kurt looked.
With a strangled cry, Kurt ran. Where was he running? Up the stairs? Out the window? Kurt didn't know. He was blind to the world, both literally and figuratively.
Something hard
Something soft
Something warm
Kurt collided into a tall object, and he let out a surprised "oof!" as the foreign object inquired "Kurt? Kurt, buddy? What's up?" When there was no reply, the… the thing lifted Kurt off the ground and helped him over to a sofa.
"Kurt." It was gentle, soft, familiar. But why? In his hysteria, Kurt couldn't think. He couldn't remember why he was there. Where he was. Who he was.
"Kurt." There it was again. That sound. That sound… Right. That sound was his name. All Kurt could say in response was a quiet moan.
"Kurt. Kurt, honey, it's your dad. What's wrong?" Burt was looking at his son, eyes covered with his hands, his head buried in the crook of Burt's neck. I swear, if this is a nightmare about that school of his, I'm going to burn it. "Kurt, what's wrong? Does your head hurt? What hurts?" That time Burt was rewarded with an answer.
"Everything. Everything's wrong."
How those three words uttered by his only son could break his heart as easily as they did, Burt would never know. What he did know though, was that he had to get to the bottom of why Kurt was acting like this. "Kurt? Can you open your eyes?"
Kurt lifted his head up, hands still covering his eyes. Eyes. What were those? Why were his closed? Kurt slowly dropped his hands, and tried to open his eyes.
Eyes. Eyes open. Open. Why were they closed? Eyes are supposed to be open. With his stomach sinking, Kurt pushed his eyelids open. As he did, he was trying - but failing - to think encouraging things to himself. Open. Almost there. See. That wasn't so bad. Why were they even closed? Kurt looked up. Oh. That's why they were closed. With the realization hitting him, his jaw dropped and an agonizing sob ripped out of his throat.
"Kurt. Kurt! Kurt, honey listen to m, your dad!" Burt was shaking his son, trying to snap him out of the trance he was in. "Kurt! What's wrong? What's scaring you? Focus. Where are you right now?"
In his mind, Kurt knew he was sitting in the living room. Flatscreen TV across the room from them, pictures on top of the piano to the left of them, iPod speakers on top of the fireplace. He was nuzzled in his dad's protective arms, lying on the white couch.
"Kurt. Calm down hon. Just tell me what you see."
That was the problem. Kurt knew where he was.
But he didn't know what he saw.
Because all he saw was darkness.
TBC.
DC: I am but a freshman in high school, so alas I do not own.