July 16, 2012, 2:02 p.m.
No one has to understand: Something to remember
T - Words: 7,733 - Last Updated: Jul 16, 2012 Story: Closed - Chapters: 2/? - Created: Jul 16, 2012 - Updated: Jul 16, 2012 431 0 0 0 0
Becoming invisible
It's hard to maintain
And it's hard to get by
Blaine woke up early in the morning with a feeling of dread washing over him. He had no idea why he felt like that. The morning was beautiful. It was early after the sunrise and the sky was still painted in all these beautiful colors of red, orange and pink. Everything seemed so perfect… Almost too perfect. "Reaping" ran the thought through his mind. That was why he was so anxious… reaping. He took a deep breath. Thank god he was nineteen already… But to be honest – it didn't make him feel better at all. Yes, he was COMPLETELY off the hook now… but other kids weren't. Other families would have to face the thing he and his family faced eleven years earlier. The Games. Watching someone you love deadly fighting for a life, killing other kids in order to survive… No. He couldn't do it. He had to leave this house and clear his mind, or he would go crazy.
"Where are you going?" asked his mother surprised when he ran past her. "We have to show up on reaping! If you don't show up – remember that you will put ALL of us in a deep shit."
"Don't worry, I'll be there," replied Blaine and without turning back – he left the house.
The house… to be honest, he hated it. Too much memories, too much pain… He knew that it could sound stupid and those people would probably think he was arrogant and unappreciative… but one of the reasons why he hated this house so much was THEM.
He remembers watching his brother during Cooper's Victory Tour. Remembers sitting in front of the TV and looking all faces of all these people. Faces of people destroyed by hunger, hard work. Dirty, scrawny, beaten by guards… Faces of the family of kids his brother had to kill to survive…
He always considered himself lucky. Being born in the first district was really the best thing that could have happened to him. He never knew what it meant to be hungry, thirsty or how it was to work so hard that people were actually dying from exhaustion. He never had to face the dread of loosing a father in the mines, or a mother in the explosion of a factory. They could almost live like royalty. Well, of course, their life wasn't THAT good, comparing to the Capitol… but still…
So don't get him wrong, Blaine was NOT ungrateful. He was empathic. Empathic to the point where it would actually hurt him to see other people being hurt. Empathic to the point where he couldn't be truly happy with everything he had, because THEY couldn't have it. He felt guilty for living not only in the first district but also in Victor's Village. He also felt guilty for feeling guilty… so simply put, he was screwed.
Yes, he was never hungry, but if he stopped and thought about it… his life never was full of rainbows and happiness. Being emotional like him, being weak, definitely wasn't an advantage in his district. Kids were learning how to fight and to kill since they were strong enough to carry and throw a knife. There was no place to be a freak… a fag like him. It's not that they were bad people… no – he was far from judging them like that. But the thing was – they knew no other life. From generation to generation, to generation… learning how to fight, how to kill. But he? He was different.
Other kids were 'killing' a dummy – he was standing there and crying, picturing that it was a real person. Other kids were making fun of those who weren't as strong as them – he was sitting in a corner and quietly sobbing for their sake. He was not bullied, at least not since when he was seven. And even if he was still bullied, it never was openly. Everyone respected his brother so no one even dared to lay a finger on him… but he could feel it – their judging looks. He could hear it when they thought that he is not listening… or at least pretending that they are thinking that he is not around. Sissy, fag, queer, how this pathetic 'thing' could be a brother of THE Cooper Anderson everyone talked about… It's all he could really do – cry.
"You are pathetic," Blaine looked at his reflection in the window of one of the houses he passed, without even recognizing where he was going. "You wouldn't last even a minute on the arena. You would probably just step from the platform to the field before the counting ended – just to make sure that no one would have to get their hands dirty with your blood."
His life wasn't full of happiness and rainbows. Maybe he was just too fucked up to see the happiness in all of it? The truth is – he hated it. All of it. Being different, living in the shadow of his brother. He was never important for his family or even his parents. There always was just Cooper. Cooper, who, on many occasions, told him that he regretted doing to Blaine what he had done… Of course – he was always sorry for saying that. He was always apologizing… and Blaine knew that it wasn't a Cooper when he behaved like that… But no matter how many times Coop would tell him that he never meant to say this, that he even didn't mean it and would do the same thing for his little brother over and over again – Blaine knew better. Blaine knew that if there wasn't him – his brother would never become a Career. That if there wasn't him – his brother would never volunteer. That he is the reason Cooper is destroyed beyond repair.
"At least he is not that bad, he could always end up like this Hummel kid," Blaine sighed heavily and started walking again.
I don't recall
Fight or flight setting in
I have no introduction
I just breath it in like the air
Yes, the Hummel kid, Kurt, if Blaine remembered clearly. The kid who had everything, but ended up with nothing. The kid with attitude and pride ended up being… Kurt. There were no other words to describe thing he became...
Blaine remembered this day like it was yesterday. Seven years before, both Kurt and Blaine were only twelve. Blaine never talked to him. They were from different worlds, but he somehow managed to identify with him. They both were small for their age, both fragile and both had these huge, curious eyes with all these dreams hiding behind them. All these dreams about other, different worlds, where they wouldn't have to hide who they were. Both of them also hated the violence. Both of them were just standing there and looking at a dummy in stead of 'killing' it – although Blaine was sure that Kurt was more designing the clothes for it rather than picturing it as a living person. Both of them definitely weren't fitting with the others with their emotions overpowering them and manipulating their lives. And both of them were hated… although Kurt was hated for completely different reason…
He was the son of the mayor so he could literally have had EVERYTHING he wanted to have. What was more, he was loved by the people from Capitol. He was visiting them all the time and they were even visiting him. Yes, the Capitol loved him. Everyone envied the small, loved boy who had that sense of fashion. The loved, little angel who had big dreams and big ambitions. On numerous occasions he was on television singing something on some important event. Actually, he was spending so much time in the Capitol that many people, also from Capitol, were simply forgetting that he is just a kid from the District one. He was always wearing these fancy clothes and just oozing with pride… He wasn't like Blaine. He wasn't hiding and praying, "Don't look at me, don't hit me, I promise. I'll disappear, just forget that I exist." No. He wasn't like that. He was almost SCREAMING, "Look at me! I'm here! I'm different and that's what makes me special!" At least – he was like that until the day.
Blaine remembered that he was scared, but not completely terrified. They were only twelve so their name was written only once. Beside, there were Careers who would kill each other just to have the 'pleasure' to fight on the arena. Careers that, what Blaine had no idea about in that time, had an agreement with his brother. So possibly that his or Kurt's name would be chosen was really small… Yet, there it was, ringing in the air like thunder… "KURT HUMMEL!"
That's when Blaine started to be terrified of the Reaping, at least for the next few years until he learned about the agreement, but that's a completely different story… That's when he learned what being hatred for being different really meant…
Blaine remembered waiting for hearing, "I volunteer as a tribute!" like it was on usual reaping days, definitely those when the kids were chosen, but he heard nothing. Seconds were going by and there still was nothing. The kid collapsed when guards were guiding him toward the pedestal… but NO ONE volunteered. Blaine could swear that he was hearing some people actually LAUGHING, telling that kid had it coming, that he deserved it…
That was the day when Kurt learned that even being a Capitol's darling couldn't save him. When it reached this point, he was just a small, fragile kid from District one, nothing more.
There were bets from that day. Bets if the kid would make it alive even to the Arena, or if he won't die from exhaustion trying to lift something else than just a comb. Blaine never hated people from his district more. No one was giving Kurt a chance to survive even a day in the Arena. Blaine was afraid to admit he was thinking the same thing. So were Kurt and his parents. It was like they all accepted his fate, and treated him like he was dead already, mourning his loss.
And there's nothing to remember
There is nothing to remember
The first day of the Games Kurt was just standing on the platform. People started to kill each other, and he was just standing and looking at them with empty eyes. The strange thing was that no one tried to kill him. Everyone was just ignoring him, probably waiting to finish tributes who wanted to survive first, just to have a bigger fun. The kid who obviously wanted to die was nothing fun for them.
At least not for a day. A day when Kurt never left the platform, just lied there on his back looking at the sky. Because after a day – two careers from District four came for him. They were standing above him and shouting slurs, telling him to stand up and at least pretend that he doesn't want to die, but he was still lying there. The boy from District Four obviously had to be fed up with waiting because he lifted his spear and it was the last thing he did in his life. Before anyone could recall what happened, his ally ended up on the ground too… And it was when everyone saw her for the first time.
Quinn. Quinn from their District. Eighteen year old Quinn. One of the best Careers they ever had. Quinn, who took the bow from the Cornucopia and ran toward the mountains, hiding in a place where she wasn't seen from the earth, yet she could see everyone on the ground. Quinn, who after a day of debating what to do with the fact that the small child from her district obviously want to meet the death with open arms, decided that she will take care of Kurt, treat him like her own child. When the careers showed up, she had a chance to prove that she really meant that.
She saved Kurt from the careers, but it definitely wasn't the end of a road. After she realized that he won't move on his own, she lifted him from the ground and carried him to the water. She cleaned him, gave him some water to drink, and made sure that he is hidden somewhere safe while she was searching for something to eat. After three days of hiding, he smiled for the first time and started walking on his own.
It's like she gave him hope. He wasn't thinking that he will have to kill her in order to survive. The thought never really crossed his mind. He was just happy that he wasn't alone anymore, he wasn't so terrified. He was so overwhelmed with what happened to him that he couldn't do anything.
When Blaine was watching the transmission, it seemed like Kurt and Quinn were not the part of the games. Hiding all the time, playing, laughing, talking, changing places when the organizers seemed to be fed up with them doing nothing, but still never managed to really corner them because Quinn seemed to have some sort of a sixth sense… until one day everything ended.
After a week of them doing nothing, when apart of them there were only five tributes left, Kurt became sick. One of the things organizers decided to do to make them move was drastically dropping the temperature in the sector they were hiding in. Quinn even gave Kurt her clothes, just to keep him warm, but he still became sick. Quinn knew that where they were hiding wasn't safe, and that the rest of tributes will find them easily if they don't hide in one of the mountain gorges, but Kurt couldn't walk anymore. He was shaking and coughing and sneezing all the time and had a hard time seeing anything because of his high fever. So they sat there, between two mountain shelves, the upper shelf was giving them a shadow and somehow hiding from the view from above, but it wasn't enough.
One night, two tributes finally found them: one from district three and the other was from district six. Quinn had no arrows left, only her knife. She fought all she could but even though one of them was a girl, she was twice the size of a Quinn. They captured her and made sure that Kurt would be awake. It took them some time to wake up a kid who was spiking a high fever, but they didn't have to rush, they had all the time in the world. So why shouldn't they have some fun? The girl from district six lifted him from the ground and made sure that he was looking at Quinn. They were waiting until they could see him focusing on the situation and recalling what was happening, and then they killed her. They sliced her throat while Kurt was watching, the blood splashing on his face. Quinn's killers were laughing so hard, they didn't notice something change in Kurt's eyes.
No one knows what happened. The only thing that set him off, was that he was sick. Some people starting making theories to why he started acting differently. It started when he didn't move from the platform at the beginning, but no one could explain that reasoning. No one understood how someone so fragile and weak could finally have the power and strength of a grown man.
It seemed like in mere seconds, both tributes were dead. They didn't even have time to react.
Kurt kicked the girl that was holding his leg, and then took her knife. He turned around so quickly that the cameras barely registered his move. Then there she was, standing with the knife sticking out of her chest. Her entire face just froze with an expression of terror and wonder. Kurt took the knife, and he threw it in the boy's eye. But there was more to take care of.
It wasn't the end, because killing them apparently wasn't enough for this thing he became. This thing with insanity in his eyes and his pale lips twitched in a wicked grimace. He laughed loudly, in a way which gave everyone chills. This was the day that people started calling him 'mental designer.'
That's what Kurt did to the bodies he killed – design. He jumped over to the boy from district three and took his knife out. He started to cut the boy's intestines, and once he was finished, wrapped them around his neck, like a scarf of some sort. Then he walked over to the girl and cut her tongue off, then colored her face in her own blood. He then found a wire in her backpack and decided to cut her ears off. Kurt proceeded to make small holes in both the boy and the girl's ears and made earrings. After that, he just ran somewhere to hide before the hovercraft came.
But that wasn't the end either, because 'mad designer' took much interest into killing. He was tracking the remaining tributes, one by one. He seemed to never eat or sleep. He was never seen by the tributes, because he found a way to turn his localization off, even though it was placed in his back. He had turned into this mad, unstoppable force that destroyed everything that stood in his way. There was a giant spider, a mutt, whose venom was deadly, that Kurt managed to kill off just by cutting its legs off.
Every one of his human victims, he massacred. There was no other way to name it. His third victim, a young girl from district eleven, ended up without a scalp. He made himself a hat out of it. The fourth victim, his fingers became his bracelet. The last remaining victim wasn't his direct killing, however. She was running away from Kurt, and she ran right into the web of the mutt-spider. Even then, he extracted her teeth and made himself a lip piercing.
The organizers had no idea what to do with him, if they shouldn't simply make sure that another tribute would be safely hidden somewhere and burn the rest of the arena to the ground and make sure that someone as dangerous as him won't make it out of the arena alive, but after the last tribute died, they had no other option. They had to announce him as a winner.
But there was one last thing to consider: how to even get him out of there. The thing that in the end seemed to be no problem, because he fainted. After Kurt killed his last victim – he started laughing and then he simply fainted. The hovercraft took him to the board and that was it. That was the last time for the next few months that anyone saw him.
You told me something
That scared me to death
Don't take me home
I can't face that yet
It wasn't the year as any other. It definitely wasn't. Because that year when Kurt won, he didn't show up on the interview nor had an official celebration back in their district. Even his father came instead of him to his Victor's Tour. His father was actually the one who took the interview, said that his son was too sick, and there is no guarantee when he will be good enough to give an interview and there is no more time to spare, so he had to do it in his name.
There were many different theories behind Kurt's sudden disappearance. Some people said that he didn't faint in the arena; he died for whatever reason, but no one wanted to tell them that because it would mean that there is NO winner of the games and it wasn't an option. Other people were making theories that Capitol decided to kill him silently in one of his hospitals but still had no idea how to cover it all up. To be honest, almost all the theories were telling that he is dead but searching for other explanations… but none of them were the truth, because Kurt was alive.
He was alive, and Blaine figured it out in one night: almost four months after Kurt's winning. He was walking alone, like he usually does to clear his head, and the guards let it slide because of Blaine being Cooper's brother, but they stilled warned him to not be caught. Blaine was walking around, wandering over to the tracks when his eye caught something. All the sudden, every guard from his district were circling him. Blaine was sure that the President had some unexpected visit, except this wasn't for the President. This was from one small child who went completely mad in the arena.
That was the moment Blaine saw him the first time after they took Kurt from the arena. He barely recognized him. Kurt looked so small, so fragile that he looked like he was eight, not twelve. His cheeks were sunken, his long hair was falling to his face and his terrified eyes were frantically searching around, like he tried to find something but wasn't sure what it was. His whole frame was hunched, and his fragile wrists were handcuffed together, connected with cuffs on his ankles with a thick chain. He looked so sick, so scrawny that Blaine wanted to run towards them and shout at them, "Look at him! He is just a sick child! You can't treat him like this! He's human, just like us!" He looked so weak that Blaine wanted to mentally scold them like they were little children, because they were clearly exaggerating, right? There was no way that all of them would be needed. All of them with their guns pointed in his direction…
Blaine was wrong, and he quickly realized it. He knew that guards were needed if he didn't want to have Kurt running around his district, hiding somewhere and killing everyone he saw. Because yes, Kurt was this scared, sick kid. Only until madness kicked in. Because if something set him off, this whole thing could go terribly wrong.
Kurt saw him. When he was frantically searching around with his eyes, he saw a boy hiding behind an old carriage. He saw this boy who was supposedly still in the arena. Blaine couldn't explain it any other way. One second, he saw this boy so weak that he was barely walking, and the next, the boy was running in his direction with a gun he took from one of the guards held in his hand. He was too thrilled too move, to try to run. If there were no guards, he would most certainly be dead, killed by child his age.
The guards took Kurt down, at least it was what Blaine though after he heard three guns firing almost in the same time and saw Kurt falling to the ground face first. But they didn't kill him, apparently the purpose of a gun wasn't to kill him, only to tranquilize him; put him to sleep like he was a mad animal. Blaine doesn't remember anything more, nothing apart Kurt hitting the ground with three darts sticking from his back. The next thing he remembered was waking up in his own bed and judging looks of his parents but none of them told nothing about it. Almost like they weren't supposed to tell him anything.
No one saw Kurt or heard anything about him till the next reaping. Apart from a Blaine and maybe few other people – no one knew he was back. Until the reaping, when he showed up publicly for the first time since he became sick.
When the reaping came, Kurt entered the stage like nothing happened. With his hair perfectly styled and clothes that were skillfully hiding his form, making him look almost healthy. And Blaine could swear that he was wearing a make up. A lot of it, actually. He entered the stage and everyone gasped, terrified and scared that apparently the Capitol thought that reaping is not enough, that they send Kurt to finish them off… Everyone was looking at Kurt with terror in their eyes until someone murmured, "Look at the guards," and others followed him, spreading the news. Blaine looked at guards, and understood why people calmed suddenly. There was twice as much guards as necessary and half of them were pointing with their guns into Kurt's direction. Kurt? He looked completely unimpressed by it, to be honest; he looked completely unimpressed with everything. He was looking ahead but wasn't seeing anything at the same time, walking only when they told him to walk, sitting when they told him to sit, like a puppet. When they told him to say something, he sounded like a record. Like he was repeating someone else's words.
Blaine doesn't really know what was going on in Kurt's life after the kid almost scared him to death. He heard people talking, but never really trusted them. He only knew that after the whole situation with 'puppet-Kurt playing for the role of a mentor' for the first time, he disappeared again. Until half a year later.
Half a year after his first year as a mentor, the work he totally sucked at, which wasn't a big surprise, he suddenly started to show up publicly again. There were no more guards around him, maybe one or two hidden somewhere, but no longer the whole army. He even showed up in the Capitol's talk show and told his "thrilling story about coming back to sanity," as the show stated. Blaine wasn't listening to him at all, he was too distracted by the boy's behavior.
Yes, Kurt could appear as a sane person from the outside, and it seemed to fool everyone, but not him. Not Blaine. Not Blaine, who was spending every day of his life watching people, observing their every move. Not Blaine, who was growing up looking at Cooper's hidden pain. Not Blaine, who also was hiding all of his pain and craziness inside.
Kurt definitely wasn't fine, sane or healthy. Blaine could see the anxiety just by looking at Kurt's fingers drumming the rhythm on his knee the entire time. He could see all this dread and pain hidden in Kurt's eyes. He could see how he was fighting with insanity, and barely managing to do it. But he wasn't giving up, he was still standing. Blaine had a feeling that Kurt was not allowed to act differently.
I'm ashamed that
I'm barely human
And I'm ashamed that
I don't have a heart you can break
Blaine was walking ahead, just thinking. Seeing nothing, and hearing nothing, he was lost in his thoughts, completely unaware of the fact he was in an area that he didn't recognize. He was never there before, he was simply lost. When he woke up from his trance, it finally hit him that he didn't know where he was, and he started to panic. He still had a few hours to spare before the reaping began, at least he thought so. If he failed to find his way back, and quickly, he was dead meat. His father would actually kill him if they got into trouble because of Blaine's absence.
"Yeah, today they will find themselves a new sucker," Blaine heard a melodic voice coming from somewhere near him. The voice sounded familiar, but he couldn't put a name to the voice yet.
"Poor kids," Blaine heard the voice again, and he decided to follow it. "You want to bet if this time one of them will become crazy?" The voice went silent for a second, like it was waiting for a response. A response never came, at least for Blaine. "You're being cruel! I'm not a screw- OK, yes, but- NO! I don't like you anymore! Hey, hey, don't cry. I'm kidding, Quinny. You know I love you."
Quinn? Who would be talking to Quinn? Blaine soon realized where he knew this voice from.
"Kurt," he told himself, silently, after he saw a slender figure sitting on a rock. He was smiling from ear to ear, as if he was listening to someone he really liked. Blaine tried to back out of there slowly, not wanting to disturb the other boy, not quite sure of what to expect.
Unfortunately, it was too late for Blaine. Kurt noticed almost straight away.
"How dare you eavesdrop on my conversation with my friend!" Blaine heard a wild growl coming from Kurt's mouth.
He tried to escape, but there was a branch lying on the ground, which caused him to trip and fall. Before he realized what was happening, he felt strong hands on his arms. They flipped him on his back, and a pair of legs were squeezing him tightly after Kurt sat on his chest.
"Tell me: who are you, what have you heard, and who are you working for?" Kurt screamed, as he was taking Blaine's wrists in his hands and pinned his hands above his head.
"I'm sorry," Blaine sobbed miserably. "I'm lost. I heard a voice, and I just wanted to ask how to get back to the city. I swear, I'm no one. I want nothing else from you. I just want to get back home before the reaping starts," he whined in desperation. "Please. Don't hurt me."
Kurt looked at him carefully with his eyebrow lifted. With each second ticking by, his gaze seemed to be less wicked and more understanding. All the sudden, something strange happened. Blaine saw a flash of recognition in Kurt's eyes, and just like that, he was off Blaine's chest. Blaine was too paralyzed, still lying on the ground.
I owe you nothing
That's all I've got for you
And you'll borrow nothing
That's what you expect of me
"Yes, I know I should-" Kurt began his one-sided conversation again. "I NEED YOU TODAY! You should know that- Yes, I know I'm a bit aggressive when-" He started pacing around, lifting his hands to his head. "I want to see you, Quinn," he started to whimper. "I know I need to talk to him and try- HOW CAN YOU BE SO SURE? OK, you won. I'll do it." Kurt put his hand in his pocket and took out a syringe.
"Help you?" Blaine asked, not quite sure if he should say something or not.
"Don't talk to me right now," Kurt angrily said through his teeth. Without any warning, or any preparation, he stuck the needle in his veins on his wrist and gave himself an injection. It only took a couple seconds, but Blaine was really surprised with how quickly the medication started working. All signs of his previous madness disappeared from Kurt's face. All the lines on his face smoothed out, his eyes became more focused, and the corners of his lips formed a delicate smile.
"Sorry for that," Kurt chuckled to himself. He offered to help Blaine up, but the boy stared at him with uncertainty. "Come on. I don't bite," laughed Kurt.
"You are-" began Blaine after seeing the sudden change that happened in Kurt's behavior; it was too sudden and drastic to be normal.
"Stoned," smirked Kurt. "That's what they are making me carry around with me. This little thing that makes me stoned out of my fucking mind," he giggled. "Don't worry. In a few minutes I'll be nor-OK. Not normal, but they way I usually am." After Kurt uttered those words, without any reason, Kurt started laughing hysterically, making him bend over, placing both hands on his knees, to keep himself from falling over. "Don't make me pee my pants! Kurt, why would you do that? Oh my god, you're hilarious! You're a genius, Kurt! Pure genius!"
"I guess?" Blaine sat straight up and tried to keep Kurt calm. Kurt was laughing a little too loony, it was scary. This wasn't as scary as Kurt full of rage.
"For you, probably not," sighed Kurt. Without another word, he walked toward the stone he was sitting on earlier. "I just pictured you as a puppy with big, fluffy ears, a little black nose, a too big, pink collar with a too red bow tie. It's disgustingly cute, with your tongue sticking out from the side of your mouth, but I'm telling you, it's hilarious!" Kurt laughed.
Blaine stood up, walked toward Kurt and just stood there. He wasn't sure if he was invited to sit near him, but he took a risk. Since Kurt was still laughing too hard to notice his surroundings, Blaine decided to sit on the grass in front of a rock, this way he could face Kurt. He was hoping that making eye contact won't set him off in a weird mood again. To be honest, Blaine was too frightened to do anything. He had no idea what he should be expecting from Kurt. He had no idea what he should and should not do. It seemed that Kurt was the master of his destiny now. Not that he minded. It wasn't like anyone ever used him in any way. He was used to it; an ultimate pushover.
"Thank God," said Kurt, after the fit of giggles finally ended. "I thought I was going to chose on my own saliva. That moment is always the worst. There's always a moment, after I take my meds, when I find something hilarious and laugh as hard as I did. Yesterday, I thought the flush from the toilet was hilarious." Kurt sneered a little at this. "Stupid meds. I fucking hate them."
"At least they're helping you. Well, I think it's obvious," said Blaine, a little too shy to speak up.
"Partially, yes, they are. I guess there's nothing that can fully help me. I guess you can say that this is something that will just keep me in control," Kurt grimaced, like he was in pain.
"Let me guess, you forgot to take them today, am I right?" asked Blaine.
"I forgot," stated Kurt. "I forgot on purpose. You see, once a year, before the reaping, I just have to feel how I usually feels without the meds. I'm not sure what's happening, it's the only way to distance myself from everything; from this nightmare. I need to get distant. I'm always trying to distance myself in the only way I know how; not taking meds, and hiding somewhere, anywhere, in the woods to talk with Quinn. Like all the things they were doing was a dream, not what actually happens. I don't show up. I hide. It's the fourth year in a row I've done this, if you've noticed."
"No," said Blaine, as he looked at him surprised. "I was usually too nervous to notice anything. But how? I thought someone had to be dying to stay home during the reaping?"
"Let's just say that I'm practically dying every year." Kurt scowled as he continued, "I've done enough. I was a mentor for three fucking years in a row. By my third reaping, I was good enough at my job, that I managed to reach the right sponsors. My tribute had a lot of help from them; they gave him food when the others were dying, so that's how he managed to win. And now he, well, maybe not him, I don't know if someone won after him - don't care - needs to go through this. You have no idea how difficult it really is. Especially for me. I'm not a mentor anymore. At least I don't have to watch these kids die in the stupid games. I don't have to know that if I failed, I was responsible. I'm always trying to keep my distance from people, not get too attached. When you know their names, and they're looking at you for hope, how are you supposed to stay impersonal with them? How can they count on me, when I can't even do that for myself? So yes, I'm not showing up, and they can't force me otherwise."
Blaine sighed heavily, taking it all in. "I wish I had those privileges, too."
"Privileges," Kurt started his laughing fit again. "I'm just a puppet, watched 24/7. I have to show up every day to the doctor's office, no matter how I feel. I'm sure they're still wondering how much of a threat I am, and if I should or should not be annihilated, even though I haven't killed one person or thing since I was twelve. Don't call this a privilege. I'm sick and tired of everything. Especially what they did to me, and still doing, I think I have a damn good reason to disobey the rules every now and then."
"You're not afraid to do that? Disobey like that?" Blaine looked a little taken aback by his words.
"What are they going to do, kill me?" Kurt sneered. "Trust me, they won't do that. Not if I give them a fucking good reason, like going on a killing spree or something crazy. No, they need their little puppet to play with. Also, because my father is the only thing to keep the puppet away from flames, they won't hurt him either. Besides, I'm their favorite toy. It's not like I'm public enemy number one. I mean, I am a good citizen, for the most part. I'm always doing what I'm asked to do. Plus, I spend most of my time away from the 'proper people.' I'm not bothering anyone with my unnatural behavior. I'm not planning on starting a rebellion or anything like that. I just-"
"Want to talk to your friend," Blaine finished. "I get it."
"Yeah. That's all I want, really," sighed Kurt. "I don't see her after I take my meds. Most of the time, I'm happy that I'm not hallucinating, but I miss Quinn. I can't see if I don't hallucinate, because she is one of them. I know she's not really there, but when I see her, I'm lost in all of it. I cling to her image in the strongest way I can. I find that her presence is my only safe place."
"I'm sorry," apologized Blaine. "I had no idea that's what you have to go through every day of your life. I can't even imagine," Blaine started drifting, Kurt not knowing what he said.
"You thought my madness was a one occasion thing? You think I'm completely free of it all? You think that it's not lingering on my consciousness?" Kurt chuckled, deeply. "It's OK," Kurt took a deep breath to calm himself down a bit. "I'm sorry in advance for my outbursts like that. My meds are stopping my hallucinations, and I'm not scared so much when I don't see things. Plus, I'm not so aggressive. I'm not trying to protect myself. I still have a problem with controlling myself, and I sometimes scream at people for no reason whatsoever, and I change moods in the matter of seconds. So, I'm sorry in advance. I'm also sorry for the moment when I noticed you creeping around the woods. You should know better than that. No one should ever sneak behind the back of a mad designer! I hear and see everything! Hahahaha!"
"I wasn't creeping around..." Blaine tried to explain. "I heard a voice, and I just wanted to see who it was, I noticed it was you, I tried not to get noticed because I have no idea what to expect from you, so I started to back away, but you heard me. The rest of the story, you know."
"You were," Kurt's face formed a frown. He tried to recall what all happened. "You were lost, right?" he asked, uncertainly.
"Yeah," Blaine admitted. "I tried to clear my mind before the reaping, but I went too far, and now I have no idea where the hell I am."
"Clear your mind?" Kurt had a look in his face like he was ready to run away from everything. "You mean, you can be-"
"I'm nineteen," explained Blaine, quickly. "You don't have to be afraid. I can't be chosen. Thank God," Blaine murmured that last bit to himself.
"I'm not afraid of anything," snapped Kurt, a little too defensively.
"Right. Okay." Blaine rolled his eyes. He saw straight through Kurt's lie. "So, can you possibly tell me where I am?"
"We're near the border. Near the border of District Two, I mean," Kurt quickly filled in.
"Wow," Blaine looked surprised by the boy's words. "That means I've been walking for at least two hours."
"I get it, sometimes it just happens," laughed Kurt. Blaine was staring at him now, with an even bigger intensity than before. Kurt didn't know whether to smile back or look away. "Why are you looking me like that?"
"You're... different than I last pictured, well, remembered." Blaine admitted, blushing slightly. He tried to approach the topic with as much caution as he could. "The last time I saw you, face to face, you almost gave me a heart attack. Now look at us. We're simply talking like old friends."
"Last time?" It was Kurt's turn to stare. "I never met you. I couldn't have. I don't even remember your face. Trust me, with a face like that, I would definitely remember you."
"Um, thanks, I guess?" Blaine blushed again, suddenly feeling extremely shy in front of the boy. "I guess you weren't exactly you. It was right after you came back. It was that night, actually."
"Came back from-" started Kurt. He waited for Blaine's confirmation before he started again. "Oh yeah, you're right. I definitely wasn't me that night," Kurt said, as he looked into the smaller boys eyes. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"
"No-" Blaine started.
"Good," Kurt cut in.
"You started to run toward me with a gun that you stole from a guard, but they tranquilized you right after they realized what was happening. You didn't even have a chance to reach me."
"Too bad they were only tranquilizing me. They should've just killed me then and there. Actually, they should have just killed me in the arena."
"I don't think so," Blaine retorted. "I mean, look at you now! Sure, you aren't exactly healthy, but you definitely don't deserve to die. Sure, I admit, you lost yourself a little bit while you were in the arena-"
"A little bit?" Kurt laughed again at this statement. "I was completely and totally psycho!"
"Well, if you put it that way," Blaine sighed heavily.
"Trust me, I was completely mad. I obviously was if I thought that the stupid lip piercing was a valid fashion choice," Kurt laughed again, pointing at his lower lip that showed a small, barely visible, scar on it.
"I guess you're right," Blaine chuckled in reply.
"No, I'm being serious." Kurt breathed deeply, trying to regain his thoughts. "I really was crazy, like really crazy. To be completely honest, the last thing I really remember is hearing my name being called during the reaping."
"What about Quinn? You clearly remember her," Blaine had questioned the older boy.
"I'm not really sure, to be honest," stated Kurt. "I'm not sure what really did happen and what didn't. I don't know the moment she died and everything afterwards, but before her death, or just being on the arena felt like a dream. A really blurry dream. Sometimes, a wonderful, bright dream, but they're usually nightmares. Like I said, everything is... blurry," the last word was muffled a little bit by his hands. Kurt seemed to triggered something in his mind. "I remember a beautiful girl smiling at me and taking care of me. I remember the sound of her laugh, and all the little things most people never notice. For example, the way she used her fingers when she would eat, or the little wrinkles in the corner of her eyes that showed up when she truly smiled. However, I don't remember her hunting, or killing, or teaching me how to survive. I don't even remember her forcing food in me, because I heard that that's what she had to do. That's it, really. Even after her death I was seeing her. I was living in my inner world for a long, long time. Sometimes, I wonder if all of this, all the things that are happening now, are true, or am I still daydreaming?"
"Trust me, it's all true," Blaine sighed heavily, with a lump in his throat. He didn't quite know how to respond to all of that. "Although, almost every day, I'm wishing to just wake up in a different world," he added to himself more than Kurt.
All I owe, all I owe
Strides I spend to the finish line
"Oh, yeah, right. You just reminded me about the main reason why I started talking to you in the first place." Kurt straightened up to look at Blaine. "Time is running out. We have to get out of here in a couple hours if you want to be on time, and we're wasting it by talking."
"Well, what do you want to talk about?" Blaine raised his brow at the other boy, secretly hoping he wanted to talk, too. "I thought you just wanted to make a new friend, that's all."
"Friend?" Kurt gave a hearty laugh at the word. "If you haven't noticed, I'm not a 'friendly' kind of person. I don't do friends."
"Oh, okay," Blaine said, with a little disappointed in his voice. He tried not to show Kurt. The only person Blaine has really talked to, was Cooper. So yes, Blaine welcomed having an opportunity to have someone to talk to with open arms, even if the person was unpredictable. And now, Kurt just took this little happiness away from him, just like every other little thing in his life. He didn't really know how to appreciate the 'little things in life' when he had them.
"I actually wanted to talk about the big elephant in the room, which I'm pretty sure no one notices, except me. That's just because I'm a genius."
"What elephant?" Blaine's heart was beating faster, his eyebrows shooting into the sky, his face flushed, and all the blood seemed to escape him.
"The elephant called 'so you like to play with sharp objects?'" Kurt looked at Blaine expectantly. He wanted Blaine to tell him the truth on his own.
"What? I-" Blaine's heart was beating faster, if that was humanly possible. All these years of hiding it, and no one noticed. Why him? Why now? Why was Blaine so careless?
"Oh, don't bullshit me. We have no time for it," Kurt frowned. "Let's talk about it like adults. Now, as one adult to another, let me ask you: why are you cutting yourself?"
I'll give you those
Just don't make me go home
Give me something to remember