|* Hey ya,
kinda feel like I should say sorry for letting Kurt suffer that much ... Well it's not like I had a choice to write it or not. That's the story and although it is said that the author has the control - I didn't choose this development. I didn't choose to write the story, the story chose to be written by me. I'm innocent. :D
I promise it's the hardest part of Kurt's life, so it will be getting better.
What else ... oh yeah, sorry for updating so late - had a horrible week.
x aida *|
Stand up!
STAND UP!
The wind is blowing hard and Kurt feels so damn cold that he can't think about something else than to get released from all his pain. He really wants to move, but as he tries to stand up he feels that ache in his stomach and has to puke again, still lying prone. His stomach contracts, since it's empty and he has the feeling that his whole body is covered by something caustic that sinks into his flesh more and more.
Sometime, he stops puking and remains motionless.
Pull at least your pants up!
Slowly, he moves his hands down and screams in pain.
His head. His stomach. His ass.
Everything hurts.
Tears are running down his face and trembling, he pulls his pants up, feeling a bit proud that he could manage it.
Proud.
Suddenly, Kurt laughs out.
How pitiful.
Be proud that you could pull your jeans up!
Really!
Then his face becomes sad again.
That didn't happen.
That didn't -
The tears interrupt his thoughts and he stares to the wall. Next to the banisters - there's mold. This corner seems to be a dumping ground.
Where are the rats?
Suddenly, his whole body aches and Kurt knows that he's over-chilled.
Stand up!
You'll become ill.
Kurt closes his eyes.
Who cares?
Who?
He buries his head in his hands.
Maybe one person would.
Kurt laughs again with watery eyes.
I won't ever be able to look into his eyes again.
Never again.
For a while he looks at the wall. He has no clue how long he had already lain there. Maybe ten minutes or twenty or fifty.
SO COLD!
Slowly, he puts his hands on the ground and tries to sit up, what he does in tears.
It hurts, everything hurts so much.
Somehow, he can pull himself up and clings to the brick wall, shaky-legged. He moves a foot forward and feels how his jeans are sliding down. He holds them and closes his belt.
Don't think about it!
That didn't happen.
While his whole body aches, he walks home, leaning on everything that passes his way.
Shocked, Kurt looks into the mirror and watches a dirty boy.
The boy's hair is a mess and there is even-
Oh god.
Oh god!
My puke mixed with his cum?
Kurt undresses himself – while in pain – and wishes that he could just jump into the shower.
Stupid tracheostoma.
He runs a bad and holds his head under the tap.
More shampoo.
Uhhhhhhhhhhhh!
His neck hurts extremely, so he walks to the mirror and watches what there is. Again, he sees this strange boy. This one looks completely frightened and on his neck are a few wounds, from where blood is dripping.
Kurt lays his hand upon his wounds.
Shampoo came into the cuts ...
The cuts.
The knife.
That didn't happen.
The hand's pressure becomes firmer and Kurt sinks to the ground, still pressing upon the wounds. He looks to the bathtub and remembers what he wanted to do. In Trance, he stands up and sits into the tub, which is half-filled.
No matter how much soap Kurt uses – he still feels dirty.
After more than half an hour of trying to get clean, he gives up and dresses himself. He applies a plaster on his neck and watches his reflection.
Silly boy.
A plaster is pretty conspicuous!
So he hides it with a scarf what isn't that clever.
Maybe I suffocate ...
Kurt walks to the washing machine, fills it with his clothes and starts it.
At least Dad isn't at home.
Don't know how to explain.
Kurt catches a sight of the clock.
More than three hours have passed since he left the party.
Intently, Blaine opens Kurt's bedroom door slowly, to not wake him. But the bedside lamp is still on, although Kurt is lying in his bed.
"Sooyy ..."
Blaine rubs his eyes and tries to speak properly.
"Sorryyy."
He doffs his shoes and all his clothes and puts some sweatpants on. Then he walks around the bed, to Kurt who lies with his face to the window.
"Feeling better?"
His eyes are closed and the blanket reaches his nose.
"Hmm?"
Blaine puts his hand upon Kurt's check and is surprised as Kurt winces, so he takes his hand away.
"Do-don't be mad at me! You meant it w-would be okaaay when I stay longeeer!"
For a moment, Blaine disappears into the bathroom and as he comes back, he slips under the covers.
Why do we have to share a blanket?
Why?
"You feel better?"
Blaine sees how Kurt nods his head and catches the sight of Kurt's scarf.
"Didnnn-"
He sighs.
Damn it.
Just had two beers or three and something Max mixed ...
"Didnn't you mean – wearing a s-sccarrf is daangeriiou .. is dageeeerooouus?"
Kurt's heart starts racing.
Please.
It's hard enough just lying in the same bed as Blaine and now he even approaches.
"Shouuuld remove the scaaarf!"
DON'T!
Suddenly, Kurt winces again as he feels how a hand touches the scarf and wants to remove it.
Calm down, it's just Blaine!
Just Blaine.
... the plaster!
Kurt shoves Blaine's hand away, trembling as he has to touch someone.
"C'mon Kurt."
He lays his hands on the scarf again.
"I see no reason-"
And before Kurt can pull him away a second time, the horrible thing happens.
"Is that a plaster?"