allofthebowtiesandscarves
June 7, 2015, 7 p.m.
Lost Voices: Preview
T - Words: 409 - Last Updated: Jun 07, 2015 Story: Closed - Chapters: 4/? - Created: May 22, 2015 - Updated: May 22, 2015 188 0 0 0 0
Author's Notes:
All the things written in cursive are either thoughts or things Kurt writes down but the things Kurt writes down are also underlined to avoid any confusion. The things Blaine writes down are in bold, cursive and are underlined.
He was scared to death. Never did he think that it would come to this.
He ran as fast as his legs could carry him and even that didnt seem fast enough. He could barely see through the tears that were burning in his eyes but he had to get home, where hed be safe.
They had taken him by surprise in one of the alleys close to school. They held him down and lifted Kurts sweater while the leader of the group of jocks pressed a hand firmly to Kurts mouth, muting any sound that fell from his lips. He had tried to scream when he saw the other four jocks take out their pocket knives and flick them open but to no avail. He had squeezed his eyes shut and tried to scream again when he felt the sharp blades cut through his skin. Then Kurt felt the hot breath of the jock who had his hand clamped over his mouth and then a whisper: ‘Make one more sound and youll regret it.
And right there, at that moment, Kurt wished they had cut his wrists too so itd be over.
He finally got home after what seemed like ages. He ran through the door and was glad when his father wasnt there to call out for him because that was the last thing he wanted. He made his way down the stairs before he let himself fall onto his bed, crying and wincing at the sharp pain from the cuts that were scattered all over his body.
When the sobs had died down and there were barely anymore tears to cry, he slowly got up from his bed and stood in front of the mirror. He was disgusted by what he saw. His hair was all messed up, his white cashmere sweater was drenched in his blood, his eyes were red and bloodshot from the crying and when he lifted his sweater he could see the biggest cut on his chest that was deep enough to hurt but not deep enough to cause any damage to his ribs or lungs and he could see some more cuts that were scattered all over his chest. It was only then he noticed that the word "fag" was carved into him right above his heart and he cried again.
Make one more sound and youll regret it.
He had been broken down so many times before and now he knew he could never be fixed anymore.