Red

Chapter Thirty Three

Chandler POV:

I'm back in the hallway again. What the hell is this? Kurt is leaning against the wall, looking at me as I stand up from the ground. 

"You're back," he comments. "You freaked me out there for a minute."

"What the hell happened?" I ask. The dull pain is in my stomach still. I feel sort of dizzy.

"They almost lost you," he replies. "They got you into surgery just in time. Lucky you."

"How do you even know all of this shit?" I ask him. 

"I've got mad powers here, babe," he answers. "I'm a ghost. I can go anywhere I please. It's pretty fucking awesome, actually. No one can see me, so I can't fuck shit up, but it's still cool."

"You're a ghost?" I ask. "So then I'm not dreaming?"

"Oh, no, you are," he says. "Well, sort of. It's confusing."

"How did you even get here?" I ask. "Why are you here?" Questions I've been wanting to ask since I got here. How is he the only other person here with me? If I am dreaming, why am I dreaming of him? He was horrible to me when he was alive. When I was alive... I am alive. I'm still alive. I'm just asleep.

"It's a long story, Heather," he tells me.

"I've got time, jackass," I reply. He raises an eyebrow, but seems to give in.

"Alright, sit down," he tells me, sliding against the wall to the ground. I do the same, telling myself the whole time that I'm just dreaming, still dreaming. "Okay. You remember high school, right?"

"You were a fucking dick to me in high school," I practically growl. "Go on."

"I was a dick," he says. "Exactly. And I regret it."

"What do you mean you regret it?" 

"At the parties, when I'd make out with girls and... you, especially... when I'd make out with you like it was nothing and when I'd feel you up and shit... That was fucking shitty of me," he says. "I was drunk. Every fucking time. Ram would tell me the next day, and I used to go along with it pretending I was proud to keep the only friend I've ever had, as fucked up as that sounds."

"It does sound pretty fucked up, yeah," I comment.

"Basically, I started to realize that what I was doing was fucked up," he continues. "I stopped getting as drunk at parties, and I was able to actually control myself and not just go at it like some sort of fucking animal. Ram... Ram was different. That's why he's not here. He didn't get a second chance."

"So... this is your second chance? Helping me?"

"If you live, I'll feel like I've helped you somehow," he says. "Sounds weird, I know. That's because it is fucking weird."

"'If I live'?" I feel fear pulsing through my veins when he says it. "What do you mean 'if'?"

"Nothing's sure-fire," he says. "But that's a good sign."

He gestures to my clothes, and I look down. I'm no longer wearing the robe. I'm wearing a hospital gown, and the bandage I had seen in the hospital room earlier is the same bandage I'm wearing now. "Why did my clothes change?" I ask, looking up at him.

"They must be operating on you," he says. "As long as you make it through this hell, you should be-"

"Let's not talk about me anymore, okay? I don't want to think about the fact that I could die any minute," I interrupt. He nods, seeming to back off.