Hey Guys!
Firstly - sorry about not updating A New Direction - gots me a wee bit of writers block.
So, I thought I would try something new.
I hope you enjoy it :)
I don't own Glee, or any of the characters.
Which Sucks :(

"Hey, Hummel"

Kurt heard the voice and knew immediately who was behind him. It was the voice that made him clam up, turning a very unflattering shade of red. It was the voice that made him quake in his Prada boots.

Dave Karovsky.

"Oi, fag, I'm talking to you"

The voice was closer, so Kurt walked faster. Why did he stay late after Glee? He only wanted to photocopy some sheet music. Practice makes perfect, and Kurt insisted in perfection in all that he did, music included.

A rough hand grabbed Kurt's shoulder and pulled him back, shoving him roughly against a locker, the momentum causing his head to slam into the locker. Pain seared though his head, and his vision blurred.

"I thought we told you to stop dressing all freaky like? I guess you didn't get the the message. None of your freak friends are here to protect you now and you're gonna get it." Karofsky grinned, his face full of malice.

Fear flooded through Kurt, as he saw five people come round the corner. Six on one? He knew he didn't stand a chance. Yeah he could try to run, but they were jocks. They would catch him in no time. So he was trapped.

"D..Don't do th..this. P..please." Kurt stammered, forcing himself to hold back the tears that were chocking him inside, he knew that they would only make the jocks happy.

"Awh look, the gay kids gonna cry." One of the jocks said, laughing.

"C'mon lets do this", said another, walking towards him.

Karofsky dropped Kurt, and pulled back his fist.

A blinding pain struck Kurt's jaw, and he tasted blood in his mouth, but didn't have time to recover, as another blow hit him in the stomach, causing him to double over in pain. The hits were coming fast now,each one cripling him more and more.

The tears were coming thick and fast now as Kurt balled up on the floor, trying to protet himself in the only way he could. He had never felt this kind of pain. Dumpster dives and slushy facials were all he got before. Nothing ever this bad.

The pain continued.

OoOoOo

After what felt like a lifetime of blood and tears and searing pain, the jocks laughed and walked away, leaving Kurt on the floor, battered, bruised and bleeding. When they rounded the corner, Kurt let out a shakey breath and uncurled, wincing as he steatched his wounds.

Sobs shook his fragile form as he tried to sit up. His shirt was torn and stained. His hair messed up and the right side was matted with blood, where he had been lying in it.

For the first time, Kurt felt truly bad for being what he was. He now sat, not the proud and haughty teenager that seemed like he owned the world, but a small, broken child, beaten for what he was.

Kurt pulled his knees up, crying out in pain. He wrapped his arms around his knees, resting his head on his arms and sobbed like he did when his mom died. Broken

Well here it is. I have never written anything like this before so sorry if it sounds dodgy. Poor Kurt.

Reviews cheer him up and make me happy too!

o_o