The Boy With Blue Eyes {A Kurt Cobain Story}

The Art of Life

Having Kurt back at school made it so much better.

And a lot more entertaining.

Most classes we aren't so interested in. But Kurt really loves art class. He's so damn good at it. And the teacher can defiantly see that.

Lately he's been making cartoon things. Turning them into little stories.

Usually during homework is when he makes a lot of things.

Yeah. Right. Like we were actually doing that shit..

He drew and drew and drew. I love watching him make things. He's usually smiling when he does it. Which is so rare for him anymore.

But the art. And the music, it really helps him. It's a form of expression. And it's beautiful.

I was laying on my bed, my eyes closed, thumping my fingers on my stomach, when my bed suddenly shook, my eyes popping open.

Kurt looked down at me, grinning, shaking the bed.

"Damn Cobain... Would you please contain the shakes you've suddenly contracted? I'd gladly appreciate it.."

He smirked a little, shaking the bed even more.

"I can't seem to contain them.."

I narrowed my eyes at him, smiling a little, a innocent smile, when I pushed him off the bed, standing up.

I looked down at him, laughing my ass off, when he grabbed my ankle, pulling me down to the ground.

I gasped, landing next to him.

He held his stomach, laughing.

I just stared at him, not saying a word.

"Ooh.. Miss Bean have a fall? Let Mr. Cobain help you."

I jerked away, smiling a tad.

"Oh no! I've had enough of your help thank you."

He rolled his eyes, smiling a tad.

I looked beside him, seeing his pencils and notebooks scattered on the floor, seeing a new cartoon.

I smiled, reaching over him to grab it, looking at it.

He smiled a little.

"Something knew. I think you'll like it.."

I grinned, looking at him.

"Of course I will. It's yours KC."

He looked down, making me chuckle. I looked at the notebook.

"Jimmy, The Prairie Belt Sausage Boy" was the title.

It's about a boy named Jimmy, who's life mirrors Kurt's so much. Strict parents. A pain filled childhood.

I looked up at Kurt, seeing him looking across the room, lost in thought.

He's always thinking..

I read the next part, which I could already tell was about Don.

"This oil is dirty. I can smell the gas in it. Get me a 9-mm wrench, you lousy little creep. If you're gonna live here, you're gonna live by my rules and they are as serious as my mustache."

I felt sadness just reading this. Yes I know, Kurt would pass it off as a joke, saying it doesn't mean anything.

But I know it's anything but a joke.

The next part was either about Wendy or Jenny. It's so hard too tell. I bet it's Wendy.

"I'm giving birth to your son and aborting your daughter. PTA meeting at 7, pottery class 2:30, beef stroganoff, dog to vet 3:30, laundry, yes, yes, mmm honey, it feels good in the ass, mmm, I love you."

My eyes widened. That last part..

I looked up, seeing Kurt smiling a little.

"I see you read the ass part."

He had such a straight face. All I could do was laugh.

"Mmm! Damn it feels so fucking good. Right there! Hit that spot. Make me scream.."

Kurt looked at me, taking the journal, laughing a little.

"Dirty Bean. What have you been doing?"

I smirked, rolling my eyes.

"More like, who have I been doing. And the answer is..."

His eyes widened, making me laugh harder. He looked kinda.. I don't know. His expression was weird.

"Don't panic Kurt. It's nobody. I haven't fucked anyone."

He suddenly grinned, laughing.

"Well, we certainly have the same kinda mind don't we?"

I grinned.

"Nobody has a mind like yours Kurt.. Yours is one of a kind. And I love it."

And it's so damn true. I've never seen anyone with a mind like his. It's one of a kind. A genius mind.

If only I could get in there. If just for one day...