Okay guys! Here's the prologue to my new story, Still Doll. Here's a few things to keep in mind while reading this.
Don't let the warnings deter you from reading this…please!
If you are reading my other stories, I Never Left You and Bookface Stories: Behind the Posts, please don't think I'm abandoning them, I'm just stuck right now, have tons of other fanfic ideas swirling around in my head, and I'm swamped with work from school.
Please please PLEASE don't ask about the title…it's not exactly a story I'm proud of and it makes me feel like a terrible person…blame my friend for convincing me to keep it as it is.
Now, warnings
WARNINGS: Mpreg, mentions of non-con, boy-boy relationships as well as a possibility of girl-girl.
If you don't like these, then you probably shouldn't read but please do! I know this makes me sound like a huge hypocrite seeing as I normally avoid Mpreg stories at all costs and am now writing one…
And jeez with the warnings I'm basically just spoiling most of the fic…but please keep reading anyway!
Kurt found himself waking with a start, shooting up off of his bed in about a second flat. In the next second he was out of bed, racing across the floor towards the small bathroom, heading for the toilet.
After what seemed like hours to Kurt, he finally began to stop heaving the contents of his stomach into the porcelain. He sat there for a moment, resting his head against the cool surface, trying to catch his breath once more. He was also crying.
He just didn't get it. Why did this have to happen to him? Why did shit like this always happen to him?
"First I find out that I'm gay, then my mom dies, then the bullying gets worse ,then Finn, then Dad's heart attack, then everything with that neanderthal, now this…It's just not fair!" He screamed in his head.
He slowly began to sit up and flush last night's dinner, what he had actually eaten of it anyway, down the toilet. He took a few more calming breaths before standing up completely, taking a small look at himself in the large mirror above the sink. He didn't like what he saw.
His eyes had dark circles under them, complete with bags and what appeared to be the very faint remnants of the spark that had once belonged to him. He looked like he hadn't slept in days, which now that he thought about it, he probably hadn't. And forget days, it was more like weeks. Because of those damn nightmares.
Jeez, who was he kidding? It wasn't nightmares…at least not in the plural form of the word. It was always the same dream, always the same thing, always the one same event that tore him apart. It killed him inside, almost as much as it had when it was actually happening. It made him sick, hence the vomiting in the toilet at three AM.
Although, he was starting to think that he was coming down with something. He wasn't just throwing up at night after his nightmare anymore. At first, he had thought that he was just repulsed by what had happened, but you would think that that would happen just after the event, not weeks afterward. Then an idea struck him.
"Oh God," he thought, "I know I don't believe in him but, please God, tell me it can't be that!"
It couldn't possibly be that. It was next to impossible, and if there were even a miniscule chance that it could be that, he would know. Someone would have mentioned it. He pushed the thought from his mind. It wasn't that.
He proceeded to just wash his mouth out to rid himself of that disgusting taste, and then walk back to his bed. He needed to get some rest if he were going to be livelier than one of the undead at Dalton tomorrow, or well today, considering the time. He laid down on his bed and pulled his large comforter around his small frame. However he knew, as soon as he did so and tried to close his eyes, what was going to happen.
He wasn't getting back to sleep tonight.
There you go! The prologue. Let me know what you think and if you want more!
Read and review please!