A/N: So, this is myownwayx – I had to create another account as my emails got hacked. You might remember me from writing 'Shattered' this is my new adventure and I hope you enjoy it.

Warnings: This will involve a teacher/student relationship, a lot of angst. Mentions of abuse, also the mental condition of hearing voices.

I hope that you all enjoy reading it, please let me know what you think. Thank you to the amazing beta of mine; SameHere. She is the best!

Chapter 1

The streets are cold and quiet, the only sounds Kurt can hear are the gentle taps of his shoes on the sidewalk. He keeps his head bowed, if anyone was to see him they would easily be able to look past him. That's what Kurt wanted; to hide away, that was how he was used to being. If people saw him they saw him with a negative glare hanging over him, they teased him, tormented him. For Kurt it was easier to hide away, it hurt just as much as being picked on, but this hurt didn't leave lasting marks that tainted his skin.

Kurt didn't know where he was going, he never had a destination in mind when he went out for walks at night. He just let his legs lead him. The house was too quiet, even with his music on full blast the silence was still deafening to him. It was just him and his dad at home, but it might as well have just been him. His dad worked hard. He worked hard at a lot of things; he ran a successful garage, he worked hard putting up a pretense that everything was okay when Kurt knew he was hurting inside - how could he not be. But what Burt Hunmel worked the hardest at was pretending his son wasnt there. At least that's what it felt like to Kurt. His father ignored him; if they were in the same room, which was very rare these days, they would make awkward small talk, Burt would talk about the game that Kurt didn't watch, tell him a meaningless story from the garage and that would be that. Kurt would be on his own in the room within five minutes. It had been like that for as long as Kurt could remember. Ever since his Mom had died when he was six. Kurt had been alone.

"What's a sweet boy like you doing walking around on your own?" The voice that crept out of the silence startled Kurt, he jumped and looked up into the shadows. He hasn't realised that he had walked down to the main street where the pubs and clubs were, it wasn't the best part of the small town he lived in and he spent a lot of time avoiding places like this. Even doing his best to hide away he was an easy target.

Kurt looked around him, he became aware that there was no one else on the cold streets, the silence around him was now overtaken by the loud thumping coming from inside the clubs. He quickened his pace to match his increased heart beat. "Don't walk away from me." The voice sounded angry, his words tripping over themselves due to the heavy amounts of alcohol in his body. Kurt didn't know what to do, he was scared and panicking. Before he knew it, he felt a tight hand on his arm, nails digging into his skin as he tugged him back.

"Come let me show you how a boy like you should behave." The voice snarled in his ear, dirty breath scratched at his face and he felt sick. He was being pulled down a dark alley and Kurt knew that no one would see him down there if they were to walk past.

Kurt struggled against him, he knew what was coming, knew that men looked at him in this way because of his small frame, his pale, almost feminine features. As the man's grip tightened on him, he used all that he could find inside of himself and pulled away. The man's ogre-like hand grabbed at his face, his dirty nails digging into his porcelain skin leaving angry red cuts under his eye. Kurt screamed out and kicked his shins, the man's vice grip on him weakened and Kurt used that to escape him. He wasn't the most athletic of teenagers and running the few blocks to his house had him winded before he knew it.

His house was quiet and Kurt didn't even wonder where his father was. Once upon a time he would have, but it was easier now to just accept that he wasn't there. He ran up to his bedroom, locking the door and leaning against it.

"He can't come in." Kurt breathed trying hard to catch his breath.

"It doesn't matter someone will always hurt you, Kurt." Kurt groaned and rubbed his eyes. He could hear the voice loud in his head, it felt so real, but he had realised when he was ten that the voices were just that... Voices.

"Not always." Kurt mumbled looking down.

"They will, because you're weak." Kurt sighed, he believed that. He really was weak that was why people hurt him. He was a victim. Easy to get to. Kurt ignored it, but that wasn't any use. He had learned the hard way that the more he ignored it, the louder it got.

Kurt stared at his reflection in the mirror, the red mark flashed out on his face making him stand out. He rubbed it with a tissue wincing as it stung even more. "Ugly." He whispered looking at his reflection before turning away angrily. He put on a baggy sweater and curled up on his sheets. He was tired and scared, his heart still thumping hard in his chest as he thought about what could have happened tonight. He closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around himself hoping that he could forget about what had happened but he knew tomorrow at school would just bring him more things he would end up wishing he could forget.