The suicide letter I actually wrote for my English Controlled Assessment, but I thought I could use the idea and turn it into a fic, so here we are

WARNING: Talk and attempts of suicide, depression, and probably some violence somewhere down the line. If you are uncomfortable with any of these topics I urge you not to read!

This is the end for Kurt Hummel.

I am sick of Karofsky and the other jocks constantly shoving me, yelling at me, humiliating me, and generally shitting all over me for being gay. I am sick of my friends being bullied because of me; because they dared to actually be kind to me. I am sick of my father getting rude letters and phone calls because he dared to accept his gay son.

I'm just sick of it.

That's why I am currently stooped over my desk, pen and paper in hand, preparing to write my final goodbye to the world. I'm going to miss Dad, but this is for the best, I'm sure of it. At least with this letter, he will be able to understand why I've done it, and I'll be able to convince him not to miss me, or blame himself.

I take a deep breath and prepare to pour my heart out onto the page.

Dad,

Please don't be upset.

I want you to know that this is the hardest choice I have ever had to make, but this is the only outcome for me. I know how protective you are over me since Mom died, but please understand that this is my best and only form of protection. This is the only way I'll ever be truly safe, as no-one like me is safe in this world. I hope that there is another world waiting for me where I'll be accepted, even though I have been told for as long as I can remember that people like me have no place in Heaven.

For the last few months, I have felt like my life was a photograph. Like I was disassociated from myself, simply observing my miserable excuse for a life in snapshots placed before me. In some ways it was a good thing; it meant that I didn't have to feel the pain. The pain of their words piercing my skin like a deadly needle, then injecting me with poison that would linger in my veins forever more.

But in other ways it was horrible…it was as if it wasn't my life; as if I was already dead and stuck here to stare at fading, rotting images of an innocent teenage boy, rejected by society, rejected by his peers, and forever told that he was 'unnatural' and 'an abomination'. The pictures are torn and stained, but not quite destroyed yet. The fading photographs still have some trace of colour left, if you try hard enough to find it.

But I am tired of trying, Dad.

I'm tired of constantly clinging onto a shred of hope that maybe one day 'It Will Get Better'. The greyness of the images is all I can see now, spreading their shadowy tendrils to every corner of my mind, every second of my life. No matter how tattered and grey the photographs of my life get, they still refuse to crumble entirely. I can never escape from this way of life, not while I am still living. Not while these immortal images are intact, glued together by the hate of the world. Only the beholder of these images, the beholder of this life, has the power to destroy and abandon them.

And that is just what I have done.

Please don't be upset. I don't want you to grieve for me. You should celebrate. You should celebrate the fact that there is one less abomination in the world, and that I am safe from the constant torture, and so are you. I can stop inflicting pain on everyone around me, because wherever I go that hate comes with me. Think of this as a blessing, Dad. I'm taking the hate away from you and my friends. You'll no longer be known the Fag's dad. My friends will no longer be known as the freaks that want to hang around with ME, of all people.

I don't believe in God. I don't think I want to, considering the fact that He made me this way then decided to tell everyone that it was wrong. But if He does so happen to exist, then I apologise now to him. I apologise for my actions, for destroying this so called precious life that he created. But if He made me into an abomination, a crime against nature, then maybe I'm doing Him a favour by taking my own life. Maybe I am the one photo he regrets taking.

My last act: let this photo finally fade.

Dad, please don't be upset. Know that you are not to blame for the way my life has been. I will always love you.

Kurt.

P.S. Please don't go into the bathroom Dad. Don't go in.

Okay so short first chapter, but let me know what you thought! Before you all worry, NO I am not killing off Kurt. Reviews please!