“They are just defending the good costumes and the family values, that cocksucker deserved”

“I bet he even liked what they did with him”

The support messages to his tormentors said, all openly publish in their network pages, blinking in Kurt’s notebook screen, illuminating the darkness of his bathroom.

“Sing to me sleep… Sing to me sleep…” Kurt sang re-reading those hateful messages, digging his fingernails in the sensitive flash of his arm.

“Fag”

“He deserved…”

“Cocksucker”

“He deserved”

At first his pale skin just turned red, arching, but that light pain wasn't enough for Kurt, so he digs his fingernails against the skin another time, deeper, strongly...

“Fag”

"He deserved"

“Cocksucker”

“He deserved”

But the pain still isn’t enough, so grabs the metallic and cold razor and set it in his fingers pressing down against his pale skin, this time being successful and finally ripping apart.

And as the blood flows, all this red patterns are drawn in the ripped and pale skin.

“And then leave me alone…” Kurt keeps singing watching the red substance dripping from his arm. He can feel the dizziness kicking in but he doesn't care, he is too tired and lonely to care.

“Don’t try to wake up in the morning… Cause I will be gone…” He falls to his knees close to the bathroom sink, too dizzy and weak to keep stood.

The silence began to fill the air, growing and growing as Kurt’s voice became less and less audible, fading away little by little.

“Sing to me… Sing to me…”

The last thing he sees is this small lock of his hair fallen in the white floor. It was kind of funny really… If Kurt still had the strength to laugh bitterly he would.

Kurt used to love his hair, spending hours in that same bathroom combing his chestnut treasure to perfection. But not anymore, now his hair was spiked, messy, short enough to make room to the many of stitches that crossed his forehead since those football players beat up him to almost death after the winter prom.

It was irony of destiny that last thing Kurt saw before unconscious drown him to darkness was a lock of his perfect hair, the first thing that bullies had ruined in him, the first thing that led Kurt to an unbearable imperfection.

"Cause I will be gone..."

-------------------------------------------------------------

“Kurt are you listening to me? Kurt!? Kurt!” A high feminine voice calls his name incessantly. But that voice seams to be too far away from Kurt, lost in background, too distant to really catch the blue eyed boy attention.

“Is me Doctor Anne Robson, remember? We met yesterday…” The faceless woman says annoying Kurt’s ears with her tone of voice.

She doesn't seem to understand, but everything is too blurry, too indistinct for Kurt in that moment, he can't remember a thing.

“Your dad and I have been talking and we think that the best for you Kurt is go to a place where they can take care of you 24 hours… This is the third time that you tried to hurt yourself Kurt...” The high voice kept talking but Kurt doesn’t manage pay attention, too occupied staring this pair of blue and shattered eyes in front of him.

Kurt can’t take his eyes from that blue, it remembers him his own blue eyes, but he knows that he isn't looking to any reflection. Those eyes belonged to another face, to an older one, that was becoming less and less blurry as the effect of Kurt’s medication began to fade away…

And then little by little Kurt began to recognize those eyes.

They are Burt’s eyes.

Burt’s blue, broken and blood shooted eyes.

Disgust swept over, taking his body and suddenly Kurt feels sick. That why he didn’t want to be here, breathing.
He isn’t perfect anymore and he didn’t want to the only person that always thought in him as perfect saw him like that, broken, imperfect.

“We can risk anymore Kurt, you become a danger to yourself…” He hears the woman speaking again, not really understanding what she meant, he is too sick to really try and her words seem too distant for him.

“I-I can’t lose you son, I don’t care if I have to lock you or tie you until you stop, I-I just can’t lose y-you Kurt” Burt’s snaps, his voice exploding in Kurt’s ears interrupting the annoying female and her meaningless words.

“Sir you should calm down this isn’t good for you or for Kurt” The annoying female voice again manifests, but this time coming from a human figure, a slim woman dress up in white that emerges Kurt’s camp of vision stepping between him and his father holding the shoulders of the older man and stopping him from have a collapse.

And that is it. All the contents in Kurt stomach, all the pills, painkillers and sedatives that they had stuck down his throat for the last hours are spill out onto the white sheet of his hospital bed.

Kurt once more was feeling disgusting, too imperfect.