Being so occupied by supporting Rachel, ignoring her worthless talk and paying attention to where they were walking to, they didn’t realize there were two men slowly walking behind them. Watching them, making sure they didn’t hear them, although it was easy with Rachel talking louder than she should.

Kurt was the first to realize they were behind them. Still with the happiness of alcohol running through his veins, he didn’t see any danger in them. They must be partying like them and might also be on their way home.

As they walked further, slower than the two men, due to the weight Kurt had to carry, the men were catching up to them. Walking closer and closer to the friends. Kurt began to be suspicious. The two men, not much older than Rachel and himself, were focused on them. The man were walking in a straight line, making Kurt sure they haven’t have a drink. They didn’t lose them out of their sight and kept walking at the same fast pace behind Rachel and Kurt.

Kurt’s heart was beating faster. He got more and more worried to what the intention of the men was. Rachel, on the other hand, was still leaning on Kurt and blabbering more than usual.

The two men started moving up their pace, walking faster. Kurt, who saw them in the corner of his eye, didn’t trust it at all. He tried to walk faster as well, but failed deeply, with Rachel who wasn’t being cooperative.

“There is nothing going on, you’re being paranoid, they’re just going to walk past you, wait and see” he kept repeating to himself, hoping it to be true. But deep down, he knew there was something wrong, deeply wrong.

Suddenly, two more men appeared from behind the trees and walked in his direction. He pulls Rachel closer and tries to get her to shut up.

Four men surrouned them now, not saying anything, but their body language said that they’re up to no good. They stand strong, heads slightly down to make sure they don’t lose their eyes on the two youngsters that stand before them. Neither of the men seem to blink. Neither of them seem to move.

Rachel slowly gets a grip on the situation, gently getting out of her drunk illusion.

Then, in a slight second, Kurt sees one of the men stopped staring at him. He looks at the others, who stare back at him. He gives a tiny nod to the other men.

Their eyes jump back to Kurt and Rachel and together they walk towards them. Kurt feels the men coming closer as he grabs tighter on to Rachel in a desperate action. In fear of everything that might happen, he closes his eyes, hoping it is a dream.

Hands, grabbing him so tight it burns his skin. Screams of Rachel. Punches in his stomach. Eyes closed. He didn’t want to see what happened. If he survived, the images at least won’t haunt him. The images of Rachel being kicked, punched and beaten, while he was the one that brought her here. Images of his own blood, red and fresh, everywhere as the men keep attacking him. Faces that he would see everywhere. No, no images.

One punch in his back is too much for him to handle. He falls to the ground, his body making a trump as he falls. His hands feel the warm liquid of blood nearby his torso. If this is his blood or Rachel’s, that is for no one to know. Blood comes streaming from both friends, who are laying near each other, with four men kicking, punching and beating the two nearly still bodies.

Kurt, still with his eyes closed, hears a car coming close. A little spark of hope arises from the pain everywhere.  A spark of false hope.

Kurt feels his body getting lifted, but is too weak to struggle. The pain in his arms, his legs, his abdomen, his eyes from closing them so tightly, his mind from denying everything, is making everything seem so small, yet so big. He wants to scream, to get out of here, but can’t. He wants to be at home, hugging his family, but he can’t. He wants everything, everything but this, but can’t.

For the first time in so long, tears start streaming down his face. All the regrets in his life, all the regrets that go away when he has that nice burning sensation of a drink, come back to him. They hit him, harder than he punches and hurt him, more than the kicks.

That scream of Rachel, so helpless, so desperate, so dead, burns into his core. The punches, the regrets, her screams, they make it so hard for him to want. To want to try and survive.

Once moment, he opens his eyes. Only to see the dark outside. The men, Rachel and the back of the car he is seated in, is all he can see. For those few seconds he opened his eyes, the men stop moving and stare at the blood stained floor. The blood stained floor with the body of Rachel. She’s alive, Kurt can see her gently sobbing, moving so little.

One of the man asked the man who gave the signal to attack: “We have him, what do we do with her?” there was no emotion detected in his voice, it was cold.

“There is no more room for one more.” It sounded as if he was talking about objects, simple objects that he had to deliver, not human beings, not even animals.

He grabs his gun and without a second of thought, he shoots her. One shot, clear in the head.  Even more blood gushes off her face, mixes with the tears that stopped flowing after he shot and the bits of brain that were blown away, and drops on the floor, making a bigger pool of clear, red, blood.

Her eyes stop. It isn’t explainable, but Kurt saw it. The emotion, the life in her eyes was shot away. Her tears stopped coming from her eyes and everything stopped. Everything but the blood that gushed out of her body.

Kurt, shaking his head in disbelieve, feels the most pain he ever felt and ever thought possible. It was final. It was his fault. His best friend Rachel Berry was shot and left for dead.