Like a Bullet to the Chest (Heathers: a Kurt x reader)

Eight

// quick note: hi um I hate ms flemming. :) //

October, 1989

The lights were so bright. 

Her back slid against the wall, she grimaced a little at the unsanitary bathroom wall, but not long enough to actually care. 

Crying didn't seem like the correct option. It seemed to disrespectful. But, what else was there to do? The humming was buzzing of the walls and the lights just got brighter and brighter. 

Only once in her life had she had such conflicting feelings over something, and both times were about the same person. She took a deep breath, then pushed it out.  She did this again, then a third time. Finally she closed her eyes, and the buzzing stopped.

Heather Chandler was dead, not just dead, dead by suicide. 

It seemed impossible, there was absolutely no way.

All of Heathers life, she had one consistent problem, her overwhelming need to win. 

And she'd just done the very opposite. She'd lost. The idea that Heather Chandler could even be self-aware enough to even consider it? It seemed unfathomable. 

Despite this being the shittiest view to have on the matter, the only thought going through Y/n's head was this wasn't right, that something else was going on. But again, it's just so out of character, there had to be more to it. 

"Who's in the stall? Sweetie you have to come out. I know it's hard but we have to face our emotions."

It was the counselor. The counselor that Y/n believed didn't even have a license. She was just too damn batty. 

Alas, she knew she had to open the stall, or else the woman would just keep on. 

"Yeah... gimme a sec Ms. Flemming."

Gathering her thoughts as best she could, she began to stand up. She wiped imaginary dust from her pants and went to unlock the stall.

______

"Veronica, Y/n, you girls are awfully quiet." Ms. Flemming interrogated after her bullshit counselor bit. 

"Maybe Heather realized that in order to be happy, she had to give up her power. And... the only way to do that was death." was Veronica's reply. It seemed very off, but then again, Y/n didn't know what she and Heather were like together. 

"That was very lovely Veronica. Y/n, what do you have to say?" the lady asked, but she didn't get an answer.

She didn't owe anyone access to to her thoughts. She didn't owe any of them a statement on this. 

"I asked you a question, you lady." Ms. Flemming stated, annoyed. But, aren't counselors supposed to be understanding? 

Suddenly, she wanted to tip this woman off, really get her panties in a twist. Maybe then she'd get off her case. Plus, she'd never made a teacher mad before. Why not now?

"It's bullshit." she groaned.

"What was that, missy?" The woman began to get angry. For some reason this only edged Y/n on more. 'Oh... call me missy again, I dare you.'

"I said, this is complete bullshit. I'm not gonna sit here and kiss the ass of a girl who made people's life a living hell. She made other people suicidal. Just because she realized she was a shitty person doesn't justify her shitty actions. I fucking dare you to tell me one good thing she's done. In less then five seconds, tell me something Heather's done for the sake of being a good person."