A/N: Hello. I am back. I think I am going to be off of hiatus now, even though I was never officially on hiatus. A lot of shenanigans went down, but it can be summarized as such: I copy and paste my stories on here (read: type them on here) so that I don't save them to my computer. Just as a general precaution. But, when Fanfiction decides to be finicky and I have to rewrite a chapter literally five times, I give up for a few days. Then my computer died. Then it revived and I wrote the chapter another three times. Then it really most sincerely died. Then I got into a better headspace, a little less pain infliction, a lot more anxiety. I say better, maybe just different. I finally have the chance to try to reboot the story and I am going to try my best to keep the mood and tone from before, but let me know of any discrepancies. I hope you enjoy!
Kurt was back to his regular jeans -No more bright colors. The admittedly beautiful boy he had seen at the mall would remain another broken fantasy. Those weren't too uncommon, but what did Kurt care? It's not like anything in his life would change. And he was okay anyways. Everything was fine and it would remain fine as long as he kept a little bit of pressure on his hip. Every few minutes he would press a little harder to feel the small rush of adrenaline and then go back to the previous amount of pressure. Something told Kurt that this was a bad idea, but it kind of slipped away. He almost felt like he was drugged. That was, he almost felt like he was drugged before he was slapped by yet another glacier.
"Haha, nice one!" Two jocks in red lettermen jackets high-fived as they walked past Kurt.
High School: 996 Kurt Hummel: 000
Kurt hated the fact that this was a continuing trend. Four days after he had found his little "fix the world and stop it from tilting off it's axis" trick and he had been slushied each day, sometimes more than once.
But it was okay. Everything was okay.
I think I have football practice today. Don't I? Maybe. I guess I'll figure it out later. Kurt's mind was a tad bit fuddled. But that was okay.
He was okay,
School was okay,
Everything was okay.
He would make it out.
Maybe.
But, even if he didn't, would it be that big of a deal? Don't forget, Rain and Rainbows. Rain and Rainbows. Kurt tried not to let his mind go down too dangerous a path. He knew he was out of it the majority of the time, but he didn't want to let go of everything. He had to remember his mom. He did so many little things to make her feel better that Kurt couldn't think to let his mom down in such a way. He made sure she saw him eat a little bit of food in the morning to ease her mind, always checked with her before he went anywhere, and always tried to remind her how much he loved her. She was his confidant, and he was her ray of sunshine.
As he trudged along the perilous journey down the hallways of William McKinley High School, Kurt wondered if anyone else would miss him. If he had made even the slightest impact on absolutely anyone else. He didn't think he had, unless being a punching bag or moving target counted.
Reaching his destination, Kurt resurfaced from deep in his head and walked into the chorus room. Nobody was there, but he didn't expect them to. They would all be at lunch, as he probably should, too. He pulled out his iPod and started flipping through it. He had a very classic taste in music, he liked to think, but there were several new pop favorites on there and a few alternative songs he had bought at his mom's insistence that every genre should be given a chance. He would never tell her that the emotive pain sometimes caught in his throat when he sang along, that he sympathized. That the music connected in the worst of ways. He clicked shuffle on his alternative playlist and then skipped two of the songs to pass by ones he didn't want to listen to. The next one he let play. Quietly, he joined in after the short intro to the song.
"I never thought
I'd feel this
Guilty and I'm
Broken down inside
Living with myself
Nothing but lies
I always thought
I'd make it
But never knew I'd
Let it get so bad
Living with myself
Is all I have
I feel numb
I can't come to life
I feel like
I'm frozen in time
His voice picked up and grew gruffer.
Living in a
World so cold
Wasting away
Living in a shell
With no soul
Since you've gone away
Living in a world so cold
Counting the days
Since you've gone away
You've gone away
Do you ever feel me
Do you ever look
Deep down inside
Staring at yourself
Paralyzed
The passion started mounting again.
I feel numb
I can't come to life
I feel like
I'm frozen in time
Living in a
World so cold
Wasting away
Living in a shell
With no soul
Since you've gone away
Living in a world so cold
Counting the days
Since you've gone away
You've gone away from me
I'm too young
To lose my soul
I'm too young
To feel this old So long
I'm left behind
I feel like
I'm losing my mind
"Do you ever feel me
Do you ever look
Deep down inside
Staring at your life
Paralyzed
Living in a
World so cold
Wasting away
Living in a shell
With no soul
Since you've gone away
Living in a world so cold
Counting the days
Since you've gone away
You've gone away
From me
I'm too young
I'm too young".
Kurt had shocked himself. He didn't realize the passion this song could evoke, he didn't realize how dead something could make you feel. He redoubled the pressure at his hip. The fresh buzz that the sting emitted from the slices located there helped his mind come clean and focus. Kurt calculated the number of calories he had had in the day so far, took stock of all of the instruments in the choir room, felt the fat hanging off of his stomach and the acute sting of a clean cut across his hip. The moment of clarity felt good, something he had not felt in such a very long time. The song connected to his outlook on life, he realized. Everything so disparaging towards his very existence, should he even try to fight the inevitable failure that would consume him later? More importantly, did he have enough strength left in him to care? The back of his mind buzzed and the clarity was nice before Kurt's mind faded back into a dazed numb feeling. The only thing he realized that he felt differed between him and the song was that he believed the song had lost somebody else, Kurt had lost himself.
Kurt grabbed his bag and left the chorus room. His emotions were blanketed over. He hurt, but it didn't quite compute in his mind. But, thankfully, he knew how to fix it. The brown haired boy quickly snuck into a boys' bathroom and took out his resident "Out-of-Order" sign from his bag. The slices stretched a little bit down his hip, numbering up to twelve now, and he didn't feel confident enough to let his pants down in the school building so he rolled up his pants leg. He chose a spot up and to the left of his ankle bone, somewhere he could easily feel the sting each and every time he took a step or rolled his foot. Carefully, Kurt pulled out his razor blade from his bag and brandished it against the chosen spot. Next thing he knew, there was a line of red that started to form a drop, slowly leaking down his skin. A delicious sting came from the area, and he was transfixed by the bright color dripping out of him. Kurt decided that there were few colors more entrancing than that of blood.
The bell signifying the end of lunch rang, and Kurt was brought out of his trance of content warmth, a feeling he wanted to clutch tight to his chest. Hastily, Kurt wiped up the spilt blood and shoved his razor into his bag, accidentally snagging his finger on the blade. Blood trickled out and Kurt stuck that hand under one of the sinks in front of him.
Single-handedly, Kurt finished packing his bag and grabbed a paper towel to stem the flow of blood from his finger. He may enjoy the sensations it caused far more than he ought to, but the last things he needed were inane questions coming his way from left, right, and center. Nobody actually cared enough to do anything, and Kurt really wished that others would quit taking momentary interest in him that led to attention that he handled very ill-manneredly. He shoved his way out of the bathroom, clutching on to his slightly bloody paper towel. Kurt joined the stream of people going to their next class, blending in seamlessly while still having an extensive radius of exclusion around him. Nobody cared about the obvious blood all over him, least of all himself.
A/N: Let me know if the content is too rough for "T" rating because I am still debating on taking it all the way to "M". I hoped you enjoyed and let me know, do we want Kurt do go to Dalton Academy for any stint of time? Only input will tell. The song is "World So Cold" by Three Days Grace. Feedback is welcome and appreciated!