A/N: In response to the possibility of the yellow ribbon on the toolbox at Burt's garage being a ribbon for teen-suicide and Burt saying that Glee saved Kurt's life.
Trigger warning: dark thoughts, cutting, alcohol and drug abuse, od. Please do not read if this is a trigger. If you need help or someone just to talk to, I'm here for you.
3 ½ years ago, Kurt Hummel's freshman year of high school.
I didn't know things could get any worse than they were in middle school. The guys were teasing me about my voice still being high and squeaky. I always got picked last for everything whether it be gym class or partner work in biology. No one wanted anything to do with me. There were a couple girls who would occasionally say hi to me, but I knew they were trying to keep their own reputations up.
My first day of the ninth grade made me realize that middle school was just an appetizer to the abuse I would be put through. I don't know how people knew which locker was mine before I even knew, but when I found it, it had already been defaced.
I wanted to clean the offensive pictures off, but knew I couldn't be late to my first class. I ran to French, having high hopes that it would be full of girls to befriend and maybe a few nice boys who wanted to actually be able to speak the language. I was partially right – I entered the room and was greeted by full seats and a tough looking guy in a letterman jacket yelling out "Ohé garcon joli, Est-ce que tu rends avec moi?" The rest of the class laughed as I held back tears and went to the broken desk in the back corner. I was still in denial about my sexuality and was already getting teased about it.
I didn't pay attention during class at all; I was working too hard at not crying, screaming, or running out of the room. I wanted to get out of there quickly, but knew if I rushed out I would get trampled, so I slowly packed up my bag, waiting for the class to be empty before rushing off to Biology.
The rest of the day went pretty much the same way French did. I got taunted, pushed in to lockers, and had slushies thrown on me. Half the times there were no teachers around, but when there was they simply turned a blind eye, acted like I wasn't being used as a human punching bag.
When I got home my dad asked how school had been. I hurriedly told him it was great as I ran downstairs to change before he saw my ruined clothes. I couldn't tell my dad what was going on, that would mean I would have to admit the teasing hurt, which meant it was true. Was I gay? I didn't know, all I knew was I didn't like the jeers I received just because I wasn't a tough-guy.
I called up the stairs to dad telling him I was super tired from school and was going to take a nap. I locked my door then went to my bathroom, locking that door too. I found my razor under the sink, and ran it across my skin for the first time, but not as it should have been used – no I would probably never need it to shave – instead I ran it across my arm, feeling control for the first time that day.
A/N: Should I keep going? Or is it horrible? Let me know