|* Warning: self-harm *|

It's weird.

Kurt can't think of something or someone else than -

Blaine ...

As he woke up this morning, he first checked his mobile in hope that Blaine already texted him, but he didn't. He stares out of the window, it's almost midday but it's a dark, cold day.

"Kurt?" Burt knocks and enters the room, worried about his son.

"Is everything okay? You don't sleep that long usually ..."

Slowly, he turns his head to his dad and looks at him, without any reaction.

"You went directly into your room yesterday ..."

Kurt turns his head away, again, scanning the cloudy sky while he feels how his dad sits down on his bed.

"Did something happen with that Blaine guy?"

Precisely not.

"Kurt," Burt whispers comforting to his son, patting his arm.

Leave me alone.

"You still angry with me?"

Kurt sighs irritated, grips his notebook, writes his message and shows it to his dad.

Already dealt with that yesterday. Forgiven.

"Then, what is it?"

His son averts his gaze and looks really depressed.

"In that night ... you meant that he didn't touch you, did he?"

So many clouds ... it's so dark, dark and cold.

"Kurt?"

Kurt could swear that someone just called his name, but this person has to be far away and beyond reach.

"How can I help you, when you don't let me know what bothers you?"

Burt is close to tears, strokes Kurt's arm, feeling the coldness of his body and the distance which surrounds them. Eventually, he stands up and leaves Kurt alone with his depressions.

He didn't say that he'll text me. We know each other just for two days. We kissed. Kissing means nothing, nowadays ...

He read my story. He saw my tracheostoma. That's it. He's disgusted of me. How could he not?

Suddenly it's there again, this feeling. Kurt closes his eyes and sighs, curious relieved that he has this need again. He already thought that this decision he made that day, was false and rashly, but now he knows why he wanted it like that. The last days with Blaine made him forget what was in his mind for so long.

Blaine is gone. He won't come back... Mum is also gone. My voice is gone. My life is gone.

Kurt feels this dark pressing in his heart, lays his fingers down on his neck, pressing his nails into his skin and scratches himself. Faster and harder, suddenly his whole body bites, constricted by the weight of all his sorrows.

He uses his other hand and scratches his stomach while his eyes widen and he remembers the treasure which he hides in the bathroom. He stands up, being in a trance of awkward relief and enters the small bathroom in his bedroom. Slowly, Kurt opens a drawer and catches a sight of a razor blade which gleams in the light of the ceiling lamp.

After he took off his shirt, he stays in front of the mirror and watches his scarred stomach.

Dead. I'm dead. Just dead.

Prepared, he takes the blade into his right hand and lets the metal cut his flesh. At pains, he clenches his hand, stares down and sees how blood drops out of his skin. The first cut is done and he feels the relief as the pain ends, shivering. He cuts himself a few times more, feeling really good after it and walks down to his dad who is sitting in the living room.

Going to school, tomorrow, again.

"You're kidding!"

Kurt shakes his head and watches how his dad jumps up.

"But why now?"

The pain comes back and Kurt scratches his stomach as unobtrusively as possible while the scars start to ache again. He writes his message down.

Blaine told that I should try it ... but maybe not.

Burt stares at him, wondering and puts his hand on his shoulder.

"That's a great idea!"

But Kurt shakes his head eagerly and scribbles down -

Not going.

"No Kurt, listen. I'll call your teacher and say that'll you come back tomorrow. That's really wonderful."

Kurt sits down, looking sad while Burt also sits down, next to him.

"You know what, when you're strong enough to go to school, I'll stop tippling, right now!"

Scared, Kurt raises his head and stares at that strange person.

"Come," he says and takes his son into the kitchen, holding a half-empty beer.

"Watch!"

And he slowly pours out the alcohol while he looks at Kurt who is really impressed.

"Now, that you came to your senses, we can have dinner together."

But Kurt isn't amused, shakes his head and walks upstairs again.

One quick look at his mobile – nothing. Kurt lies on his back, touching his stomach.

Try it, Hummel. Go to school. Do it for your dad!

But Kurt can't cheer himself up and starts to cry.

I can't stand it any longer.

Kurt feels empty but filled with a heavy darkness at the same time.

The pain, I need the pain to stop.

So he uses his finger nails and works on his stomach, feeling overwhelmed by the physical pain, so that he forgets the psychic one.

He loves that point, when the sorrows are away and only the pain is there. The true pain, no other things. Just pain. And he loves how the pain vanishes and he hates how the sorrows come back again.

Sunday.

Sunday without Blaine.

Kurt stares out of the window and watches how the moon gets covered by gloomy thunderclouds.

It's been a cold day.