Notes: Congratulations to all who got that the quotes were from Monty Python(Although I am sorry to say that the ten points are worth nothing...). And thank you to everyone who left a review, favorited, and alerted this story.

Some warnings for this chapter. There may be triggers, so beware. I really don't believe that this story is or is going to be anywhere near rated M, but if you think otherwise, please let me know and I'll consider changing if enough people think so. Please, please, please let me know what you think of this chapter, because it's sort of branching out and taking a different turn. I want to know if my readers like where it's going or not. Thank you!


Chapter 11

Kurt just wanted to be alone. Whenever he was alone, nothing bad happened to anyone. Slushies weren't thrown, cars weren't totaled, wrecks never happened, and no one got hurt. Specifically, himself.

He was just tired of being hurt by others. Why'd it always have to be him? Everything bad always happened to him or his loved ones. He was like a bad omen. You'd think people would just gravitate away from him, but no, of course not. He'd start to love them, then they'd get hurt. Every. Single. Time.

Kurt got up from his bed and stumbled clumsily to the bathroom, his legs wobbly and his eyesight a poor from not moving and not blinking for a while. But he had to be emotionless and quiet; it was the only way he could keep himself from having another outburst. He wanted so badly to yell at his dad before. He wanted to scream that no, it was not okay. No, he was not fine. And no, he didn't want his dad to leave. He wanted Burt to stay in his room and listen to him yell and scream and throw a fit like a two-year-old because nothing was okay and Kurt wanted the world to know. He wanted everyone to know that he, Kurt Hummel, was a sad, tormented teenager and he couldn't take any more of it.

By now, Kurt was crying silently on the bathroom floor. He was silent because he didn't want anyone to see him like this. Another flood of tears spilled out as he fought the two-sided confrontation in his head. Did he want everyone to know he was tired of being hurt? Did he not? He had no clue.

Kurt just wanted to be in control of some aspect of his life. He was fed up with everyone else deciding when and where to hurt him and make him upset. Why did everybody else get to make those decisions? They seemed pretty important, so why couldn't he choose?

With salty tears burning his cheeks, Kurt quietly pushed himself up to his knees, forcing his eyes to open. Everything was blurred and his eyes scorched as he looked around.

He was tired of being hurt by others. He'd had enough of it. Up until this point, he had let others push him around and chase him away. He let them injure people he loved, taunt them, and cause them to hate their lives. He was done with it.

A pearl white blur popped up in Kurt's vision, and he strained to see it clearly. Crawling towards it, the object grew larger and clearer until he was looking down into the disgusting face of his toilet. A few of his tears dripped down into the water, and they splashed, causing a ripple effect. The ripples hypnotized him in a way, calling him.

I just want to be in control of some aspect of my life, Kurt thought. Slowly, he placed his shaky hands on the rim of the toilet. The cool surface sent a chill to his bone, and he could hear the eerie sound of his heart beating heavily in his ears. I want this, he thought, closing his eyes. When he opened them back up, they were fixed in the center of the bowl with a steely gaze. I want this control.

Kurt raised two of his slender fingers and quickly inserted them into his mouth, trying to act fast before he could think better and more clearly. Without a second thought, he shoved his fingers down his throat and took charge for once in his life.


From the moment Mercedes saw Kurt, she knew something was wrong. Very wrong.

Her first thought was that maybe his house burnt down and he was homeless, because her boy sure as hell would never come to school dressed in a plain white t-shirt and a pair of jeans that looked like they came from the Boring selection at last month's fashion show. But from the expression on his face (or, more likely, the lack thereof) she could tell that this was nothing to joke about.

"Hey," she greeted, falling in step beside him. The boy looked like a robot, walking down the hall and not looking at anything. He just stared straight ahead, his shoulders slightly hunched and his feet dragging sluggishly along. She thought she heard him grunt in response, but she couldn't be sure. "I said hey," she nudged him gently on the side. Kurt, seeming to just realize she was there, blinked and looked over to her.

"Hi," he replied, and even his voice sounded off.

"After school the glee club has something to show you," Mercedes exclaimed happily. She could barely suppress her grin, and after a moment, she went ahead and smiled anyway. A smile wouldn't give anything away, would it?

After Mr. Schuester had told the kids off for being selfish, they had prepared a number to show to Kurt once he got back. They couldn't show it to Burt, but they were sure the student would go home and blab about it for a while. They were going to perform it after school for him.

"I'm not going to be at glee club today," Kurt murmured, then after a moment, he added, "or ever. I'm quitting." Mercedes stopped in her tracks, and when Kurt kept walking she grabbed his arm, yanking him to a halt. He glared back at her with a fury she had never seen in his eyes. But as soon as the fury appeared, it disappeared, and he was once again an emotionless robotic boy.

"What do you mean you're quitting? You can't just quit on us Kurt."

"I can, and I will," he said. His dull voice was starting the annoy Mercedes. How could he just stand there and drop a bomb on her like this and not have some sort of emotion to go along with it?

"You can't, and you won't, Kurt," she said, starting to worry a little. What was wrong with him? He would never do this sort of thing to his friends in glee.

"Yes, I will," there was a slight edge to Kurt's voice as he defied her.

"I won't let you," Mercedes crossed her arms, trying not to look scared. How was she supposed to handle Kurt in this situation? To be honest, she was scared to death. Her best friend was acting completely whack.

"Okay, and what are you going to do about it?" Mercedes stumbled over her words, trying to find the right thing to say.

"I'll… er… I'll, uh," Kurt turned and started to walk off, his shoulders still slumped forward and his feet still dragging behind him. "I will pick you up and carry you there myself!" she shouted, but Kurt was already disappearing around the corner.


As Kurt walked away from his best friend, he felt completely hollow inside. And not just because he had emptied his stomach of all contents earlier that morning. He didn't want to quit glee. In fact, he wasn't even going to until he blurted out the words. But he just couldn't go back. He had to force himself to fall out of love with each person he knew. That included Mercedes and Blaine and his family and each member of glee club. Everyone he loved got hurt, so he just had to not love anyone. Then he'd be fine. Everything would be fine.

The first step to falling out of love with people was to stop making contact with them. If he never saw them, he wouldn't love them. And since he had to be around some of the people he loved, he had to go to drastic measures and make them hate him. Hence the silence and unemotional exterior. They'd eventually grow to hate the robot who sat in the corner of the room collecting dust.

He didn't want to do this. He didn't want to be hated by everyone. But it was the only way to save everyone else from Kurt, the Bad Omen. The tragic warning to all that something bad was coming and that you should get away while you can. It was the only way.