Ya'll I'm back. Hello. I know there's a lot of time between updates but I have to get motivated if I want to put something out that I'm at least somewhat happy with. I also know my stories don't have many followers, so I feel a little less pressure then. I appreciate those of you who are following me though. Ya'll are dah bombs!
"HOW DARE YOU!?"
Jeremiah's voice is thunderous from above, like a storm or a crash or something awful. He'd taken Kurt just a few minutes ago, so I know my boyfriend is in trouble. I struggle against my restraints, which are newly installed shackles to the wall. I try to stand but I can't.
I can't do a thing.
"Pl-please!" Kurt is sobbing, and his voice is getting closer, closer to the door and I realize just before it opens that they're coming down here.
"This-" Jeremiah hurls Kurt down the stairs, and he tumbles in front of me. I gasp, reaching out in a futile attempt to make sure he's okay. "-Is what happens to naughty little slaves who bite their masters' dicks!"
Kurt tries to crawl away as Jeremiah stalks down the stairs in his clunky boots. Kurt's shirt is gone, and Jeremiah's pants look askew, like he just barely zipped the fly up.
"Bad bad bad boy!" Jeremiah says, pulling Kurt's head up by his hair as I struggle to try and help.
"Stop, stop, please! Don't hurt him, don't hurt him, I'm sure he didn't mean to-" I'm screaming.
"Shut up, Anderson!" Jeremiah yells, and damn, he either has a terrible nasty temper or Kurt bit him extremely hard. Or both. Definitely the first one, at least.
"Please," I beg, "Pl-" The shackles are bruising my skin and it hurts, goddamnit, but I can't sit here and do nothing. Because what hurts even goddamn more than the bruises on my wrists or the headache I have is the way my heart feels every time, every fucking time Jeremiah hurts Kurt like this.
"Enough!" Jeremiah says, and pins Kurt to the ground. I see him smile sadistically as he takes out something from his pocket. It glints in the dark lighting and it's sharp and pointy and oh no… "You wanna disobey? Then you get the consequences, bitch!" He puts the knife just below the first marking he made on Kurt, the one that says "MINE" in such thick, bold lettering carved into his skin. Slowly he presses it into the skin just below, and I see the porcelain flesh tearing open slowly, painfully slow. I see he's carving something, as he's dragging it in patterns and soon he sits Kurt up to admire his handiwork. Kurt's screaming the entire time. It's the worst sound I've ever heard, and I wonder if his throat's bleeding.
"There." Jeremiah says, as he listens to Kurt crying. He stands and heads for the stairs.
As Kurt screams in such agony I've never heard from him, I realize it's because he's tired. I realize it's because he's so fucking tired of this, too, he's faced so much pain and he can't take it anymore. I've always known Kurt to be extremely strong. He powers through even when it looks hopeless. Like in the whole Karofsky situation. And through the days he's been here, he's been trying so hard to be strong. He tries to stop his tears, and when they fall, he tries to hide them. I realize that Jeremiah may have just shattered that strength I loved so much in Kurt, and I just fucking break.
"Fuck you!" I yell, anger taking over a portion of my worry for Kurt. Jeremiah's near the top of the stairs and I know none of what I say will probably affect him very much, but I don't care because this is ridiculous. "Fuck you, you son of a bitch! FUCK. YOU."
Jeremiah stops in his tracks. Kurt is looking at me with shock. For a brief moment I realize I might be scaring him, cause I don't know if he's ever seen me so angry, but I continue yelling.
"You are a horrible person! I hope everything happens to you that I used to think I wouldn't wish on my worst fucking enemy! You deserve hell! You deserve hell and more, Jeremiah, and I hope you know that even if you break us, you'll never find happiness because you just plain don't deserve it."
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Kurt's P.O.V.
Through my own pain, my own howling, agonizing, scream bloody murder pain, I try to understand what he's saying. I try to make out, through the fog and haze of my hurt, what he's telling Jeremiah. I've seen him angry about five times, and from those times, I know just how powerful and sickening his rage can get.
One time was before we were dating, when a Warbler made fun of me. His name was Parker. "Look at those outfits he wears on his Facebook." He'd said. "I can't believe they let him into an all boys school, the sissy."
Blaine had gotten Parker kicked from the Warblers, but not before having a fairly long and surely scathing argument with the jerk.
Another time had been when some guy outside of the Lima Bean had called him a fag.
That guy got punched square in the nose.
The third time had been the time Finn told us to kiss somewhere else than in my house.
Blaine had given him a rant on why we couldn't kiss anywhere else.
The fourth time, had been when Finn kept shooting him down. I'd watched his sadness boil down into hot anger.
That anger melted into several arguments with my stepbrother.
The fifth time, he'd been introducing me to his father. His dad told him what a disappointment he was.
Blaine had yelled at him. To this day, he doesn't know that I saw him the next day, crying and punching that bag in the locker room.
Even with all those times, I've never seen Blaine this upset. Even then, I can't blame him.
I hear clips of Blaine's yelling.
"Son of a bitch...horrible person...worst fucking enemy…"
I've always known Blaine to be protective of me. I just didn't know how mad he can get.
And suddenly the yelling stops. It's replaced by a thud. My vision is blurry but when I look up, I can see Blaine on the floor, Jeremiah standing over him. Blaine isn't shackled anymore.
Why isn't Blaine shackled anymore?
Jeremiah picks him up by his dirtied shirt and throws him against the wall.
And suddenly the world has stopped. My blood runs cold at the harm of my boyfriend, but when I try to stand up I fall, and I can't do a thing, I can't do a thing. Jeremiah beats him and leaves.
Blaine's bloodied and covered in bruises and I can't do a thing.
And I suppose it's then I know to stop wasting time on tears and hurry the fuck out of this place.
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Soooooo what did ya'll think? Did you like that I wrote from Kurt's P.O.V or should I not do that again?
Reviews are always appreciated, not to be a beggar.
See you soon!