Strange- Kurt Cobain

Broken Home

4 Days later.

School was finally over with. and Kurt, Krist, Jason and I had all formed into a pretty kickass group. We all walked home together for the first time, Krist went first, then Jason, and Kurt and I were left walking alone. 

"So you live on the other side of the bridge too?" He asked, his low monotone voice was comforting. 

I nodded taking a drag off my cigarette, "Yeah I've just moved here."

"This town fuckin' sucks, I can't wait to get out of here" he laughed, kicking a rock. 

I took the time to take in his appearance. He had a tall lanky figure, his feet had worn out converse, ripped blue jeans, and he wore a grey sweatshirt with a burn hole on the turso. But none of that compared to his face. He had a sharp jawline, thin lips, stunning blue eyes and a slight bit of cheek stubble, and lastly his messy blonde hair.  He honestly wasn't bad looking at all, but I wasn't thinking anything more than that. I'm cold hearted, and closed off, I didn't have the ability to be in a relationship, not like HE would want to be in one with me anyway. I shook my head of the thought. 

"Yeah man I hear ya, I can't wait to get away from my pops, I don't care where I go" I stated passing him the cig. 

He looked over at me questionably, but before he could ask anything we were in front of my house, and my dad was already yelling. 

"Beverly Jane, get your worthless ass in here and get me a beer!!" I looked over at Kurt and told him that was my cue and goodbye. He looked a tad bit worried for some reason, but forced a smile.

"Later Bev!" He waved, as he carried on a couple houses behind mine, heading to his own. 

*****

Kurt P.o.V

Something about that girl man, couldn't get her out of my head. Her green eyes held so much of a story, I could see it. I've figured out that she apparently has an alcoholic father that she has issues with. 

Beverly Daniels is a mystery, for sure, but a beautiful mystery and that's no lie. 

"No, no, shut up Kurt, you push everyone away, you're a fuckup" I muttered to myself and rolled my eyes, picking up my guitar.

******

Beverly P.o.V

I was washing dishes when my dad came in and asked me where his bottle of whiskey was. 

"You had one this mornin' I think, it was on the floor beside the couch" I stated while drying the last dish. 

He examined my facial expressions drunkinly, "what do you mean on the floor?" 

"It was next to you on the floor pop" I replied, looking sternly at him.

He threw a plate at me, which barely missed my head. "You're a liar!! You took it!" He shouted.

I sighed, "I ain't lying, chill the hell out!" 

"Fuck you you inconsiderate piece of shit you took it because you're a thief!" He screamed, edging closer and closer.

"No the fuck I didn't your drunk ass probably threw it away man!" I yelled. 

He came at me, I punched him, and he slapped me hard across the face. I could taste blood as I fell to the ground. He kicked me and I screamed in agony. "MOTHERFUCKERRR" I yelled.Each blow kept getting worse and worse, it felt like I was being shot over and over again. He yelled insults with each one. The pain from my stomach was masking the pain from my cheek where I could feel a bruise definitely forming. 

 He kept kicking me when all of the sudden I heard a door bust open and loud crashes. I heard a familiar voice faintly along with my fathers, sounding like he was in pain. Everything kept getting more and more faint. Until all I could feel was the cold tile kitchen floor.

 All I saw was piercing blue eyes. 

All I heard was, "you're never allowed in my house again you worthless bitch!"

And then everything went black.