•you're not real.• {a ghost!JD JDonica fanfic}

d e a d .

It had been four months.

Four months since him.

Four months since he had walked into her life, ruined it, and killed himself.

She remembered exactly how it happened. The ear-splitting boom, the smoke burning her eyes and occupying her lungs and setting them on fire as she tried to cough it out, falling to her knees. The smoke irritated her eyes to no end and caused them to tear up. She furiously wiped them on the coarse material of her sleeve and continued to hack up the smoke. her ears were absolutely fucking ringing. But, the one thing she remembered that cut through all of that, was the smell of singed flesh.

As soon as she was able to open her watery, red eyes, she was able to see it through the wall of grey smoke.

It was JD.

Dismembered chunks of him scattered across the football field.

She didn't attend the funeral.
She had made up some bullshit excuse about not feeling well. Her mom didn't ask any questions and let her stay home.
She didn't go to school for the next week. She knew if she did, she'd be met with pitiful glances, and the Heathers providing fake empathy in the most awkward and stiff way possible.

Instead, she stayed in her room, curled up on the bed, feeling completely void of any emotion.

She wasn't sad.
She wasn't upset.
She was numb.

She could've stopped him.
Did she even want to stop him?
Maybe he was better off dead.

He had tricked her, lied to her, hurt her, and manipulated her.

But she had hurt him just as badly, if not worse.

All of the shitty, awful, completely unjustified things he had done had been for her.

He was just some kid who was damaged.
Really damaged.

And by his damaged logic, tricking someone into killing multiple people with him was perfectly acceptable.

Their love was god, after all.

She would never forget the look on Heather Chandler's face as the sickly, slightly translucent blue drain cleaner dripped from the corner of her mouth as her cup crashed to the ground and shattered.

Or the look on Kurt and Ram's faces as veronica pulled a gun from behind her back and they realized that she hadn't invited them to the graveyard at dawn for a threeway.

Or, the look on her own face as she noticed the bullet hole in Ram's throat as he made pathetic, little gasping noises, desperately clinging to life while blood sputtered from the hole in his neck.

He had told her that the bullets would just tranquilize them.

"Ich Luge bullets."

Bullshit. Those were real actual bullets that had killed Kurt and Ram.

They had made her cry, and in JD's eyes, that was a crime that they would have to pay dearly for.

she remembered the smirk on his face as he lowered his still smoking gun. and it made her sick to her fucking stomach.

She remembered the lump in her throat, how her vision started getting blurry.
"What the fuck have you done?"

his response had haunted her.

"I worship you."

And he really had.

He killed people in her name.