AUGUST 21 2017
7:05 am
Kurt Hummel:

My days begin the same way they start, lying in bed thinking about death. It's not so much that I want to die, but rather that I want to be with him. But as much as I want to die, I know I could never bring myself to do it, to end my own life. Everytime I pick up the rope from the back of my closet I think of my dad, and my friends, I couldn't do that to them. But most of all, I think of Blaine. He wouldn't want me to do it. I could never let him down.

"Kurt! Are you going to fucking get up? I have to leave in nine minutes and if you aren't ready I'm leaving without you!" Santana yelled angrily from down the hall.

I opened my eyes wearily and sat up slowly, gazing out the window at the Columbus skyline. Our apartment was on the tenth floor, and in the heart of the city. The view was stunning. The rising sun created a glow over the magnificent buildings, and the Scioto River was calm and still in the morning light.

But it didn't make me feel any better when I remembered what day it was. Sunday the 21rst of August. Tomorrow would be the fifth anniversary. I felt like I was going to be sick.
"No, go on without me." I tried to keep my voice as steady and normal sounding as I could.

"Are you sure?" Santana stood in the doorway and regarded him wearily. "I can wait, you know, if you want." Her expression softened. "I know it's really hard for you right now."

I looked down, pretending to be very focused on finding a pair of pants in my laundry basket. It was unhealthy, I know, but I didn't like to talk about it. It was just too painful.

Santana bent down and gave me a quick kiss on the forehead. I continued to be transfixed by my laundry. She sighed and turned to leave.
"See you for lunch?"
"Yeah, whatever." I mumbled, wishing she'd leave already because I couldn't repress the tears much longer.

When I heard the front door shut I lept up, hurrying over to the closet. I dug around until I found what I was looking for. I pulled out a black shoebox from a pair of shoes I'd gotten from my dad years ago. But it wasn't the box I wanted, it was what was inside.

I brought it over to the bed and set it down very carefully. I kneeled on the floor beside it, letting my tears fall fast and thick. The lid slid off smoothly. I gazed down at its contents with a mix of pleasure and sorrow.

I gingerly removed the contents and placed them around on my bed. There was the tiara and crown from our junior prom. Roses he'd given me for our anniversary. The bowtie ring he'd made me for Christmas out of candy wrappers. I shook with sobs, holding the tiny ring. "Forever" he'd inscribed on the box.

Lastly, there was a neatly folded tie. I took it out with trembling hands. It's blue and red stripes were so familiar to me. I held it tightly to my face, breathing in the scent. It smelt like him, like his lavender hair gel.

"I miss you." I cried. "I need you, here, Blaine. I don't know how to do this without you. I've been trying, but it's so hard. I just don't know what to do."

"I miss you too." I whipped around and blinked. He was standing there in the doorway, just as solid and as real as Santana had been minutes ago. There he was, with his dark gelled hair and navy blue blazer.

"Blaine." I breathed, hardly believing it. I stood up numbly and made my way over to him in a daze. I stared at his face, greedily taking it all in. His triangular eyebrows, his hard set jaw, his brilliant hazel eyes. His face was perfect, his skin smooth and free of bruises or cuts. This was my Blaine, the Blaine I loved. The Blaine I needed. I reached out to touch him, to hold him in my arms. But he backed away. I noticed tears in his eyes.

"What's happening?" My voice cracked. "Is this real?"
"I am not alive, no. But I am here." His voice was soft and smooth.
"I don't understand."

Blaine sighed, watching me sadly. "Neither do I, really." He began. "I came to see you, Kurt. I see you hurting, and I know it's because of me. I can't bear to see you this way. I can't cross over until I know you're going to be okay."

"Cross over...?"

"To the other side, to "heaven" as you'd know it as. I can't do it, not yet. I can't let go of this life I had. Not until I know you're okay. You were my whole life Kurt. I thought staying away would be better for you, that it would help you move on. I was wrong, it seems."

"You're not really Blaine, are you? You're just my imagination. Is it the sleeping pills? I know I'm only supposed to take one but I can't stand it sometimes. Or the alcohol? Because I never meant to drink that much, the other day. But with the anniversary coming up so soon.." I trailed off.

I was more confused than I'd ever been. I knew this couldn't be true. There was no such things as ghosts and spirits. It had to be a hallucination. But that didn't mean I didn't want it to be true.

"This is really me." Blaine said steadily. "You don't have to believe me, I probably wouldn't if I were you. But listen to me. You can't live like this anymore, it's killing you. You need to go back to school, or get a job you like. You deserve to be doing what you love. Don't avoid that in fear of doing something I'd have loved. I know New York and Broadway was our dream, but that doesn't mean you can't do it alone. I want you to be happy, Kurt, even if it's without me. Don't stop living just because I did."

The truthness of his words stung, but it didn't make it any easier.

"I've tried, Blaine, and I can't. I'm not as strong as you."

"You're right. You're stronger." I blinked at him in disbelief. Had he not seen me moments ago, crying over a tie? "You stood up to the bullies when I never could. You were never afraid to be who you were, you stood tall and proud. You taught me to be proud of myself too."

"But after-"

"After you grew even stronger. You carried on even when you didn't want to. You moved away, got a job, you grew up alone. You turned into a man. But Kurt, you owe it to yourself to be happy. And now you owe it to me."

I knew what he was saying was true. Blaine, or my hallucination of Blaine, was always the level headed one. He wasn't melodramatic like me. He was logical and smart. I'd always respected that about him.

"Can I touch you?" I asked nervously, reaching out with trembling fingers.

He hesitated, but nodded. "I don't want to make this harder on you, I don't want you to get too attached, because I can't stay here with you forever. I can already feel the pull weakening. I need to go back soon. But, yes, you can touch me. I think we both need that."

I collapsed in his arms. I hugged him tight. He felt so solid, so strong. So real. I held tighter than I ever had before, unwilling to let him go. His eyes were on mine, he was so close I could taste his breath. He was cold, like he'd been in somewhere much cooler than an Ohio summer day. But it didn't matter. It was still Blaine.

"Yesterday, in the coffee shop, that was you, wasn't it?"

"Yes. I'm sorry, I really wanted to see you up close. I was tired of watching from afar. I miss you so much." His voice sounded clipped, broken. I could feel my stomach sinking. The one thing I'd always told myself was that Blaine was free now, that he wasn't hurting anymore. But, it didn't seem that was true. That is, if all this isn't just a hallucination. I was more confused than ever.

"Why didn't you come before?" I asked, holding onto the off chance this was really my Blaine, here in my arms.

"I did." He began, and I was hit with a sudden understanding.

"The hospital!" I cried out. "But, I thought that was a hallucination. That's what everybody told me. I was on so many different medications, it was a side effect of my drug addled mind.." Blaine was shaking his head.

"It wasn't, and neither is this. I know you don't really believe me, but it's the truth."

"I want to believe you." I whispered, nuzzling my head into his shoulder. The familiar feel of the Dalton blazer soothed me.

"I want you to too."

He pressed my forehead to his. I leant forwards and put my mouth on his, kissing him more passionately than ever before. Our tears streamed together. It was all so familiar to me, his touch. I felt his fingernails digging into my back but I didn't care.

We stayed like that for a long time, clinging to each other forcefully. Then I could feel him soften, his hold lessen. He felt lighter, less solid. Less..there.
"What's happening?" I cried.

"I'm going back. But don't worry, I'll come back, okay? Just promise me you'll do your best to be happy. I want to see you smile, Kurt."

I pressed my face into his shoulder. My white knuckles grasped his blazer tightly. He rubbed my back soothingly, his hand slow and steady. And then he was fading away. I could feel him being taken away from me again. I screamed out, trying to take hold of something. But he disappeared, his eyes sad and shining with tears, until they were there no more.

"Blaine." I whispered quietly. Nobody responded. I gazed around my empty bedroom, never feeling quite so alone as I did in that moment.

12:45 pm

"Kurt, I brought some rolls from the bakery. Did you get my text about heating the oven?"

Santana. Shit. I froze, having completely forgotten about our lunch plans. I stepped out of my bedroom hastily.

Santana glanced at me quickly, rummaging around the kitchen putting away groceries. It was a good thing she did most of the shopping cause I'd never remember.

I watched her work, looking at her more closely than I had in a long time. I saw her everyday but most days I was too wrapped up in my own problems to notice hers. Especially after all shed done for me, I felt guilty realizing I wasn't the best friend to her.

Her exterior was neat and proper. She had black suit and bright pink v neck underneath. Her hair was long and sleek, her makeup fresh and simple. But there was no mistaking the dark circles under her eyes. Inside, I knew she was hurting.

"How was work?" She asked distractedly as she put some frozen rolls into the oven.

"Um.." I paused. Honestly, I'd completely forgotten about work. Blaine had wiped my mind clear of anything else.

"You didn't go." She turned to me with an exhausted expression on her face. "What did they say when you called in sick? You've already missed so many days..." her eyes narrowed, taking in my sheepish expression. I fiddled with the zipper on my sweatshirt, avoiding her eyes.

"You didnt even call? Kurt! I know this is hard for you but you can't loose your job!" She snatched up the phone.

"I'll do it-" I began hurredly.

"No, I will." she snapped, already dialing.

"Hello, Mr. Lewis? This is Santana Lopez, Kurt's roomate... Yes, I know. That's why I'm calling. I came home to find he is very sick. Too sick to be able to call in this morning... Yes, I understand. I'll tell him. Thank you."

She hung up and turned to glare at me. "Well, you're about this close to being fired."

"Sorry." I said quietly. She had already turned away from me, banging pots around loudly in the kitchen.

"I really am sorry, San." I said earnestly. "I'm sorry for bring such a crappy friend. I'll do better from now on, I promise."

"you don't have to apologize, it's okay. I'm sorry for flipping out on you. I just have a lot of pressure at work right now, and then there's..." she trailed off, putting on a strained smile.

"Let's just start over today, okay?"

"Okay." I gave her a small smile. "Since I'm too sick to work the afternoon, I'll make dinner."

"Okay, just don't cough in it or anything." She said sarcastically.

"Only in yours." I winked.

I looked out the window, wondering if Blaine was watching. I know it was stupid to believe in ghosts and such, but I really did believe that was Blaine that had visited. And after all these years of wishing for him, I really did feel better, if even only a bit. I just hoped he would be true to his word and return.

August 22nd 2012
10:08 am
Santana Lopez:

Five years. Five years to the day I came out of the restaurant to find two of my best friends lying in pools of their own blood. Five years to the day I had to pry one of them off the other, and gaze into their deadened eyes for signs of life.

It was the worst day of my life. I still had nightmares about it. I'd wake up with the image of a bloody and mangled Kurt in my mind. I'd have to remind myself he was okay now, even if that wasn't exactly true.

I'd lost two of my friends that day. Kurt had never been the same since Blaine had died. He'd lost that bubbly, enthusiasm we'd loved. He'd lost the desire, the determination. It was sad, to see your friend fall apart like that, knowing you couldn't give him what he needed.

I looked over to him. He was biting his nails in the seat next to me. He'd been too upset and anxious to drive. He was crying, but I don't think he even realized he was. His eyes were glazed over, distant. He'd been like that the whole drive so far.

We were going to Lima to visit Blaine's grave. We did so every anniversary. The others would be there too. Finn, Quinn, Rachel; the whole glee club. Along with warblers, Blaine's family, Kurt's family.

It always gave me nostalgia, seeing them all there. It was like stepping back into my high school self. Except this time everything was different. We were all older now, we all led different lives. But we were forever bonded by one thing; the loss of our friend.

I didn't really talk about it with Kurt. We never really discussed the hard issues. Neither of us are really that kind of person; to wear our emotions on our sleeves. But I knew he remembered the attack vividly. I could only imagine what he was thinking right now.
I remembered that night like it was yesterday. I could close my eyes and replay it. I'd done so a thousand times. At first, I'd gone over every detail carefully. I was sure I could find something to nail the bastards that had done it. But there'd been no evidence. None of us could really describe their faces in detail. The sketches were simple and could have been anyone, really. And that's if the attackers were those guys in the restaurant. We didn't know. We probably never would. And it sucked.

It wasn't fair Blaine had died so young, and it wasn't fair Kurt had been attacked so viciously. They'd done nothing wrong. They'd deserved none of it.

I bit my lip and glanced over at Kurt as we passed the high school. He'd never gone back there. Neither had I. He avoided all places that reminded him of Blaine, really. And I couldn't blame him. I did the same with Brittany, and she wasn't even dead.

Brittany would be there today. I'd be lying if I would say I wasn't eager to see her. Sometimes I felt like I hated her, for breaking my heart. Sometimes I wanted to see her suffer. But I loved her. I always would. And I missed her more than anything.

I pulled off the highway and onto the winding uphill road to the cemetery. Next to me Kurt stiffened. I sighed, gazing into his bright green eyes, shining with tears and couldn't help but be brought back to that day five years ago...

August 22nd 2017
12:52 am
Santana Lopez:

"Oh my god, that was great." I laughed, gazing over at Brittany. Her golden locks shone in the moonlight.

"You liked my dance? You didn't think it was too much?" She asked.

"Took off too much, maybe." I laughed. By the end of her rendition of "Sexy and I know it" She'd been wearing only the bare essentials.

"Girls who turns into a stripper when drunk." Finn snickered, "I knew I was right."

"Hey, Britt, do you want a ride home?" Rachel came running up to us. "You live my way."

"Yeah, thanks, Rach." Brittany smiled, wobbling drunkenly over to Rachel.

"You'll make sure she gets home safe?" I ask.
"Of course."

I smiled and headed over my car humming to myself. Finn followed me.

"What do you think you're doing?" He asked. "You're way too drunk to drive. Let me give you a ride, my car's over by the end of the lot."

"M'not drunk."I followed him, moving slowly. I was having a hard time putting one foot in front of the other. Okay, maybe I was a little drunk. I stumbled, and reached out to him. He held onto me, laughing.

"Yeah, you are totally not-" He stopped suddenly. I lurched forwards, almost falling over.

"What?"

He didn't say anything. I looked up at him. His face was frozen in fear. He slowly began to run forwards. I was confused. It was dark and I couldn't see anything.

"Finn?" I squinted. I could barely make out a lump on the pavement. I started to stumble towards it. Finn got there first and I saw him kneel down. And then I heard him scream.

I hurried over to him as fast as my drunken body would carry me. And then I saw it. My blood ran cold.
"K-Kurt. " I gasped. I fell to my knees. He was covered in blood and bruises. Finn grabbed him and turned him over. His eyes blinked slowly. There was a large wound on his head. Blood gushed from it, pooling all over my hands and I tried to hold him steady.

Kurt had been lying on top of Blaine. Finn rolled him over, and moved beside him, blocking Blaine from my view. I heard Kurt whimper, and I focused my attention on him.

"Sh, baby, sh." I mumbled. My hands shook in disbelief as I shrugged out of my jacket and pressed it against Kurt's head. His eyes gazed up at me in confusion. His lips moved slowly, like he was trying to say something.

"Santana..." Finn was quiet. I looked over at him. His face was pale, tears sprang from his eyes. I followed his gaze down to Blaine. Blaine was lying still, Finn's hand still lying on his chest, which I noticed did not rise.

"He's cold." Finn mumbled.

It was Blaine's eyes that worried me most. They were open, but not blinking. Wide and dead, he looked up at the sky with a frozen expression. His mouth opened in shock.

"No." I breathed. "No, no, no."

"He's not breathing, he has no pulse." Finn pressed his head to Blaine's chest. "What do we do, oh my god, what do we do?" Finn's voice rose and he was whiping his head around wildly.

"Somebody help!" He called out. "Somebody help!"

"Call 911!" I searched through my jacket for my phone, pulling it out with shaking hands and throwing it at Finn. He opened it in a frenzy, dialing quickly.

"Blaine." Kurt mumbled. His hand scratched softly at mine. "Blaine." I could see his eyes closing, his body weakening.

"No! Kurt, no!" I screamed. I could hear Finn talking, but I couldn't make out what he was saying. I shook Kurt's shoulders, I slapped his face. I screamed and prayed for him to wake up. I wasn't willing to lose him.

Blood was pooling around me. I was confused. Kurt's head wound was covered by my jacket. My eyes trailed down his body and stopped on his legs. I felt bile rise in my throat. His legs were a mangled mess. His right one was the worst, covered in blood and bending at an odd angle, it was almost as if it wasn't fully attached. I ripped my jacket in half, pulling the second half over to his legs.

I hesitated, unsure where to apply pressure when clearly it was all a mess. There was so much blood. Kurt was turning paler and paler. His eyes were no longer watching me, but drifting away in odd directions.

I felt Finn lean over me. He pushed me aside gently. He had my cell phone in his lap. Someone was speaking to Finn, giving him instructions. Finn puts his hands on Kurt's chest and moved up and down rhythmically. I sat in stunned silence.

Finn put his mouth to Kurt's and breathed. At first I was confused. Why was Finn kissing Kurt? Didn't he realize how serious this was? But then I realized he wasn't kissing him, he was giving him air. And slowly Kurt's chest began to rise and fall. Finn continued, again and again.

Finn was saying something. There were more voices, more noises.I couldn't understand what was happening. I didn't really care. I was noticing Blaine, lying off to the side alone. I crawled over to him and touched his face. He was so cold. I gazed into his eyes. They were so empty. I felt fresh tears well up. I fell on top of Blaine, sobbing. I pinched his nose, I tried to copy Finn and give him breaths. His chest didn't rise like Kurt's.

"Santana." There was a hand on my shoulder. I shrugged it off, pressing my hand onto Blaine's neck when there was an open wound. But no blood was flowing. It was strange.

"He's gone." Somebody was saying. I didn't listen. They didn't know anything.

Somebody was pulling me up. I struggled, trying to get back to Blaine. But the person was strong. It was a man, a man in a police uniform. He was gentle, but strong.

"Sh, come with me." He pulled me away from Blaine and Kurt. A swarm of people in white were crowding them, shielding them from my view.

"No, Blaine, Kurt." I gasped, struggling in the man's grasp.
"Sh. It's okay." He reassured me, placing me on the edge of a truck. Hands were on me, checking my pulse, looking into my eyes.

"It's okay." They all said. "Everything will be okay."

But they lied. Everything wasn't okay. It never was again.