This is the first part of what I'm not referring to as my Mad World series of stories. They're all suicides or attempted suicides of Glee characters. After you read this you'll understand that I was in a bit of a downer mood yesterday. I warn you this is super sad and while not overly graphic it leaves almost nothing to the imagination. I sobbed while writing this, and my three proofreaders did while reading it. I love Dave, and I love Kurt and this felt like I was actually physically hurting them both. I'm sorry to everyone whom this may hurt.
Suicide is not a way out, it's a way to hurt those around you. Please talk to someone if you need help. My inbox is open to anyone who wishes to post in it.
It had been brought to my attention that apparently I have been offensive to Christians with the way Dave's father is in this story. I'd just like everyone to know that I mean no harm and that the feeling in this story actually represents a lot how I used to feel. As my father is an attention grabber who neither appreciates me or anyone who is not perfect like him, and while my stepmother, who is Christian, and many others she know pretend to accept that I have feelings for girls as well as feeling for boys, I can tell that it thoroughly bothers them, and they ignore it for that reason. I did not in any way mean to be racist in the religious sense. This, minus the many mentions of suicide is based partially on my family and partially on fiction. I did not mean to state that christians hate gays either, in fact I purposely avoided stating just that. I just implied that Karofsky's father hated anything that was not like himself, no matter the race or religion. Not everyone is a Paul Karofsky, I know that. I am sorry if I have offended anyone.
This is Dave Karofsky's Mad World.
It was time. Time for it to end. The pain, the suffering, the violence, the hateful words slung about mercilessly. Time for the helpless but defiant pools of turquoise to quit staring back at him in fear. The time for his jock friends to understand him. Time for everyone to stop fearing him. Time to stop being Dave Karofsky.
He felt like Fancy himself with the way he planned it, all show and big actions. The three red letters he painted upon his chest were both freeing and constricting. Like getting the chance of a lifetime but falling horribly ill just before it.
Dave knew he was ill, knew he was sick in more ways than one. His mind kept screaming at him, telling him he shouldn't be this way. Shouldn't be gay. Shouldn't want to die. But he was...and he did.
Everything was just too difficult, he couldn't cope, couldn't deal, couldn't breathe. The weight of the world was on his chest and Dave couldn't force his lungs to take in air. Everything became too much, too fast, and when his mother left his father to fend for himself as a parent after 20 years together, Dave was done. Finished.
He went to the garage, digging around in their storage bin for the tow rope, his eyes burning with heated tears. When his oversensitive skin hit rough hemp he knew he found it. He lifted it slowly, his fingers cradling it as though it were precious, his hazel eyes staring at the long strand. He pulled the rest of it from the bin, his eyes closing to hold back the waterfalls teasing at his eyes. Soon, he muttered to himself. Soon.
The tree outside he second story window was perfect, an oak that was about 30 years old with branches that had helped Dave sneak in and out since the age of 13. It was also strategically placed at the end of his driveway, right in the sightline of anyone who should pull in, but not to anyone who drove past. Dave wanted his dad-..No. His father to see. The man was an attention whore. At least, thats how Dave saw him. Acting like a perfect saint in public and cursing every race, sexuality and religion behind everyones back. Except Christianity of course. The Christian lawyer needs to be perfect. Flawless...
Dave had flaws. Too many to count if you asked him yourself. He was too chubby, too broad in the shoulders. He had a baby face and horrible hair. His eyes were too dirty looking to resemble any colour, and his nose to prominent on his face.
His mind was wonky too. He got an almost sick pleasure out of throwing Hummel against things. Maybe it was the feel of his body, or the whimpers he let out when shoved extra hard, but Dave loved it. He would rather hear it is less of a painful way, but he'd do anything to hear those pitiful sounds, feel that wonderful body. God he loved Kurt's body.
The soft rain outside made things slightly more difficult, but it made Dave glad he had used water proof paint. Scaling the tree outside his house became a task, but one that was mandatory. His hands slipped once or twice, but after about 10 minutes the rope was tied securely to the tree, a knot taught to Dave during boy scouts on the other end.
The note was the hardest part. What to tell people. He knew he'd be all over the news by tomorrow, his face, the words. But he wanted to leave something special for someone. Not his dad, his dad wasn't worthy of his time. Maybe Kurt, or Az he thought to himself.
He scribbled through eight pieces of paper before he found what he wanted to say. His hands shaking and the tears he had been holding back dripping onto the page. He took the letter down to the public mailbox sometime around 11pm. Kurt Hummel's address and a stamp placed upon the front of it. A man of about age 40 was sitting on his porch, he waved hello to the young man before turning back to his book.
No one ever saw David Karofsky alive again.
...
Kurt Hummel sat on the couch in his living room, tears relentlessly pouring down his face as he watched the footage of Dave Karofsky hanging from at tree in his yard, the word GAY painted in blood red across his naked chest. The jock's neck was purple and red, the bruising and rope burn so dominant when compared to his now overly white skin. His cold, dead skin.
Kurt shivered, but not from cold or fear, but sadness. Why. He though to himself, although it was more of a statement than a question. His eyes flickering back to the screen as they cut him down from the tree. His body limp and dead upon the ground.
The fashionista sat there for hours, skipping school completely, his body as frozen and numb as Dave's now was. His heart pounding in his throat, his hands clammy and body sweaty.
When his dad came home, he looked as though angry, but after seeing the haunted look in his son's eyes he let the argument drop before it started, handing Kurt his mail and leaving him be. The brunette glanced down at the letter, his hands shaking furiously as he stared at the return sender, his eyes glazing over at the two words with no address. Dave Karofsky.
Kurt scrambled to open the letter, his jittery hands making the task difficult. He wasn't sure if this was a joke or not. If not, what had Dave said? Why him?
All the air in his throat was sucked out of his lungs as he read, gasping sobs shaking his body violently. He curled in on himself, his hands clutching the now damp and wrinkled paper to his chest as his father tried to soothe him. There was no way to soothe this.
Hello Fancy
I want you to know that this isn't your fault, it's not your fault even a little bit. I just couldn't take it anymore. My family, my friends. They wouldn't understand, not like you do. You're the only one I wrote a letter to. The only one I cared enough about to write a letter to.
I know you hate me, and thats okay, I gave you many reasons to, but I just wanted you to know how much I loved and idolized you. I may not have shown it right, but I did Fancy. I did.
I did this cause I'm sick you know. I've been sick. I just have this overwhelming need to end everything, so I am, and by the time you read this, I will have.
I wish we could have been friends Kurt. I bet you're really funny and silly when you're not hurling insults. I'd have really liked to have called you a friend, but it's okay Kurt. I'm okay.
If this makes you sad, I'm sorry. I hate to see you cry. If it makes you mad, then hate me for all its worth. Just know that it was you that kept me holding on for so long. Without you, I would have been dead years ago.
You saved me Kurt.
You know...Theres this song, and everytime I listen to it I hear your voice instead of the singer's. Have you heard Mad World? The Adam Lambert version? It just...it fits. It made everything make sense. I'm going to spend my last hour in that tree singing that song Kurt. I promise you that. I bet you'd have liked to hear me sing, since most people don't know I can.
I made you a tape Kurt, just for you. You don't have to listen to it, but if you want to hear me sing it's there.
Be happy Kurt. I am.
Get out of Lima. You're made for bigger things.
I'm sorry...
I love you.
Dave
I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad, the dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had. I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take, when people run in circles its a very, very, Mad World.
OH GOD DON'T HATE ME FOR THIS.
I was in a crappy mood yesterday and I was watching the Glee Project and they covered Mad World which is like one of my favourite songs and my favourite line is "I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad, the dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had" and it just sent my brain into overdrive with this story. I was going to make it a lot more gruesome and talk about the exact details of Dave hanging himself but I just couldn't make myself do it. I find its better this way anyways.
If you ever feel like killing yourself, get help. You can talk to me, or a friend or family member, call a helpline. One of my friends has tried to kill herself twice and twice I have managed to somehow talk her out of it. Please talk to someone if you feel this way okay. I promise that no matter how shitty life seems it is worth living.