7 weeks and 3 days. That's how long it had been since you went missing.

You were just a teen, and the treatment, if you dared to call it that, from your parents, if you dared to call them that, wasn't good. At all. So you ran away.

They had begun to send out cops to look for you, but you had a spot that you knew they wouldn't find or be able to check. It was way far from the area they covered. After about a week, they forgot about it. About you.

Except Kurt.

Kurt was your best friend throughout high school, and he was the one that you could go to if you need to vent or talk to. Nobody else did, so he did.

When he heard you had gone missing, he was completely out of it and never wanted to have this happen. He instantly kicked on his coat and boots since it was the middle of winter and went looking for you.

He came back with nothing. No trace of you, nothing. He stayed in his room and sobbed. He stared at the old photos of you and him and cried. He hated himself for not checking in on you.

He started to count. It was absurd, said his mom, but he needed to make sure he had a count.

"I don't get why you had to leave... It's been 7 weeks and 3 days." He said to himself, caressing his favorite photo of you two. It was the one photo of himself he liked when you two went to prom as friends.