Hello,

My Name is Kurt Hummel & I am what many people call dumb. You see I have a mind of a child…Well you, Journal, can't really tell because of my writing since I am quite fond of reading, and so I also enjoy writing. But I am pretty incapable of a lot of things, those things including normal things you might learn in school, Math, History, Science; heck I don't even know how to look out for myself. I mean I don't even know how to wash myself (Since I am in these poor conditions, I don't usually have a proper shower) the only thing I actually know how to do right is writing.

I was a child of two junkie's a.k.a drug addicts. When I was around 7 child services took me from my home (As if my parents cared) & took me to a foster home. I stayed there for 3 years, but one cool September morning I had had it with my abusive parents. So that night I snuck out and went to New York (Pretty far from where I used to live.)

Nobody really looked for me I guess since they never found me, and now I am living in the streets of New York, occasionally sleeping by a junk yard. It's not the life I envisioned for myself but it's the only thing I have & the only thing I will have.

Now Diary I am going to talk to you about my Dreams…please stop reading If I bore you even though I am permanently 'tattooing' your body with my story. When I was younger, younger than I am now I always dreamed of going on a Broadway stage, the lights shining on me and only me, my voice echoing bouncing from wall to wall. The audience would stand up roaring with applause, showing off their flamboyant dresses and suites demanding for an encore.

After hours I would be in a classy book store signing copies of my books as people thanked me and complemented me & then when I got older I would become a music teacher, teaching kids of how it is in Broadway and what it takes. That was the life I looked at myself living in, now though it just seems so surreal.

I mean here I am in New York City seeking a place to be comfortable and cool before going out in the intense heat of July, preparing myself for my Deaththat would come from mal-nutrition or maybe a brutal cause.

My Name is Kurt Hummel & I am 13 years old.

Kurt Hummel stood up from his seat in the public library making his chair fall to the floor while doing so. That earned him looks from everyone in the library, but that was something he got used to as his life progressed in the streets of New York City. He quickly fastened his pace and walked out the library. He began walking towards the place he usually almost slept at, The Junk Yard. The Junk Yard had a name, "To You From Andersons" It was owned by the Anderson family, & they also owned the car shop next to the Junk yard with the same name. When he was a bit younger at age 11 he saw a boy walking into there, he probably worked there. 'Gosh how it must feel to have a job.' Kurt thought, but that wasn't the point. The point was that Kurt thought that the boy was pretty, He didn't know why but he felt compelled to talk to the boy. The 'boy' actually looked much bigger than him by a few years but he had the most beautiful curly hair.

Kurt wanted to see the pretty boy again but he never did, Now that is why Kurt stayed at the Junk yard for the past 2 years and a half, he wanted to see if the boy would reappear again and they would actually get to converse.

Let's get back to the present, shall we?

The young brunette sat down on an old car seat in the Junk yard and began to get comfortable. Maybe too comfortable since a few minutes later he fell asleep in that same exact spot. Later on he was awoken by a sort of crunching sound, he was still drowsy when he sat up and so he couldn't focus his eye-sight. All of a sudden out of nowhere, a bat was swinged to his face but it missed him. He immediately stood up and screeched out in pain when a man screamed "OUT!" and he was hit again but only this time it hit bulls-eye, His stomach. He doubled over in pain as he began to hyperventilating and began to cry quietly.

'Swing-Swat!'

Came the noise of a screen door being opened and closed, along with the noise of light footsteps coming. 'Oh No there's more.' He thought as the little 13yr. old began to cry like a little toddler who's balloon got picked up by the wind and watched helplessly when it flew away.

"Hey Dude! Leave him alone." said a voice.

The voice sounded sweet and nice and….worried?

"H-hey there," He felt a hand on his shoulder. "You okay?"

"Don't ask him that, man! It's his own damn fault I mean why Is he sleeping in your family's business place?"

'Oh, so that's why…'

"It doesn't matter, I know you Puck! You could really hurt someone with that bat…in fact you already have. That's why you went to Juvi, You really want to go again?" The man asked.

"Hey, The guy had it coming,"

"Come on, let's go to the bathroom. I'll wash you up." He then stood Kurt up and handled him gently, putting his arm around Kurt's waist and leading him into the Car shop.

Kurt P.O.V

He then took me inside to the bathroom….secretly and silently.

I was confused, why was he being sneaky?

"Sorry about that," He said as we finally made it into the bathroom. He rushed to lock the door, "My parents, they would get mad if they saw you in here."

I frowned and stayed quiet, incredibly he noticed. "H-hey you okay? Don't be down." He smiled. "My name is Blaine by the way, Blaine Anderson."

I realized that it was true his parents did own the shop. I gulped and asked "S-so your family own the place…?"

He stared at me and then laughed, I got scared. "Yeah my folks own the place."

My voice is…very high pitched, I sound like a girl. "O-oh…"

"So where are you from?" I stared at him shyly and my eyes began to get teary. He looked at me and his eyebrows rose up. "H-hey no need to cry. Come on." He gently dabbed a wet piece of toilet paper on my cheek and he smiled.
"Are you like, homeless…?" He asked. I had to take a time to think. Should I tell him?

I nodded and a look of sympathy washed off his smiled, I hated that! I hate when people feel sympathetic towards me as if they knew my whole life story. But I couldn't tell him that, it would be rude.

I wiped my face once again and smiled "T-thank you for your kindness," I said with my girly voice. "But I really do need to go. It was a pleasure meeting you." I quickly made my way towards the door but was stopped when he blocked my way. "Wait, where are you going? I mean you have nowhere to go…" He bit his lip, "You want to go out for coffee?"

Blaine's P.O.V

I stared at him while he drank the whole coffee down; it looked like it had been a while since he drank that stuff.

"So I told you my name, how about you tell me yours?" I asked as I took a sip from my coffee.

"My name is Kurt Hummel, I am 13 years old. How old are you Mr. Anderson?"

"No need for the Mr. and I am 16 for your information."

He nodded and it all went quiet when he stood up and said "It's been really nice talking to you but I really need to go look for a place to sta-"

"Why don't you stay with me?"

"W-wha—"

"Yeah I mean you have nowhere to go, I assure you my roommates won't mind." I smile, looking straight at him

"B-but.. You…you can't really be serious… I mean this only happens in movies or stories. You can't just do that. You don't even know me!" He was flustered and made. It was smeared all over his face, his red puffed cheeks moving up and down slowly as he began hyperventilating?

I quickly grabbed his hand and walked rapidly outside. "Hey calm down. You don't need to stay with me if you don't want too."

He began to cry and nodded, "I r-really need to stay somewhere…" He began to calm down and nodded "O-okay but I got to warn you…"

"What do you have to warn me about?" I asked a bit concerned.

He sighed and slowly said "I'm stupid."