I Love You, Mommy
Summary: All Blaine wanted to do was tell his mommy something special, for her birthday and all he needed was something to write on, with her favorite color. Kid!Blaine. Deathfic!
A/N/Warnings: Oh yeah, I am so milking my muse for what it's worth this week. This story contains Child Abuse and Death. If you don't like, don't read.
As we happen to find ourselves upon the Anderson estate we see a classic high class birthday party in full swing. Presents; wrapped in the finest, delicate paper, are sitting on a table by the front door just waiting to be opened after the guests leave. Drinks are being served on trays that waiters having been carrying around most of the night. And you could say that everything was going exceptionally well, at the party planners request. Only a tiny someone was missing from the scene.
Blaine Anderson, the young master of the household had disappeared sometime during his father's long toast to his mother on her special day. Blaine was rather happy that his father was quite long-winded when it came to speeches cause this just gave the small child of six more time to think. He had been racking his brain trying to think of something to give his mother for her birthday and he had come up with a blank. He didn't exactly have any money to buy her something pretty like everyone else at the party had probably done already, but his teacher, Miss Susie, had once said that sometimes just drawing something or writing something meaningful down then giving it to a person was always a perfect gift.
So, Blaine had set out to do just that, but what could he use? He knew his mommy's favorite color was this pale purplish color, cause she wore it all the time, the color would usually in a dress, a pair of shoes, or even just the make-up she wore in some form. He moved towards his parents room. He figured he needed something that look like a crayon so he could write what he wanted to say to his mommy. Then it was like a lightbulb went off in his little head. He could use his mommy's lipstick to write with, she had it in her favorite color.
Only now he had a small problem. What could he write his message on? He needed something dark so the message could be read clearly because of the pale color and he wanted it to be big. He was thinking that maybe he could write his message on the wall next to the staircase, when his foot got caught up in an untucked corner of his parents duvet that laid upon their bed.
He fell towards the ground and the tube of lipstick flew from his hand as he tripped. It only took moments for Blaine to untangle himself from the duvet that had been pulled from the bed and somehow wrapped around his tiny frame. He started to search the room for the tube of lipstick he had taken to write with and found it just laying upon his father's expensive dark colored pillowcase.
Blaine smiled to himself. He had found his a place to write his message on. His parents ebony black bedsheets. He crawled on top of the bed, grabbed the lipstick, uncapped it and started writing. He knew his mommy would love her present when she saw it.
It had only been twenty minutes later when Blaine's mother had walked into her room. The little boy was almost done with his message by this time so he lifted his head from his project and smiled sweetly at his mother.
"Mommy, I colored something on your bedsheets with your favorite lipstick! Look!" Blaine exclaimed proudly, pointing at what he had just done. He saw his mother look at her bedsheets, but her face didn't look happy like he thought it would. She looked really mad at him. In a rage she charged at the young boy upon her bed and slapped him across his face, knocking him back into one of the bedposts hard. With a resounding crack echoing throughout the room Elsa-Marie Anderson took a step back.
Suddenly full of remorse, her eyes filled with tears. She scoops her baby up into her arms and begs the small child to open his eyes, but it's too late. His little heart has stopped beating and his neck was broken. She screamed and screamed until her husband came running to them while the words on the sheets in the bedroom haunted her vision.
I love you, Mommy! Happy Birthday! Love, Bla...
A/N: I don't even know what to say about this piece.
-Fiona12690