The wind calls up above and the sun glows beneath the clouds. The people watch, the people have seen. It's just an ordinary sight, nothing more nothing less. Once in a blue moon, you might find something beautiful. Something extraordinary. Maybe you might smile and capture the moment, or maybe you might just look down and frown at yourself. Who are you meant to be? Where is your life pushing you? How can the night sky be the favorite part of your day if you refuse to look up when it happens?
Blaine Anderson sat at his desk looking at the floor. His tea is beginning to get colder and colder the longer he waits. He must do this. Don't look up, what ever you do, just don't look up.
"Mother, I have something to say," Blaine said in a faint whisper. He felt his teeth grind together and his feet shift from side to side. The ceiling above him hovered over his head. He wished he could get this over with.
"Yes?" She said ever so quietly back. She knew this day would come. Ever since Blaine's father had died, ever since that hiking trip when he wouldn't look at the stars like he used to, ever since he started to sleep on his stomach and not his back no matter how uncomfortable he got, Blaine's mother knew there was something wrong.
Blaine shifted his weight from his left leg to his right. Don't look up, what ever you do, just don't look up. He took a breath and waited for the right second. His hair so perfectly done was starting to sag a bit down his forehead. His jeans, so bright and yellow, seemed to fade of color.
"I'm sick," Blaine breathed. Two words and that's all it was.
"Sick?" His mother asked. Physically? Mentally? What has she done to make him feel this way? Her lips pressed together and her chest tightened only using the breath that she needed.
"Ma, the sky. It scares me," He managed to say. She was the first person he told. Not even his glee club friends could understand what he was going through.
She breathed in and out once again. She understood why he was so afraid.
"We will call Dr. Green in the morning." Dr. Green, one of the local therapists down the street.
"You can't, we don't have enough money," Blaine informed. It was true, they didn't. If Blaine's mother skipped a day of work, they wouldn't have enough money to pay for their house and that would leave them homeless.
"Blaine, you need help. I don't care if we eat out of the garbage for a week. You are my son," She managed to say. It was true; she could do anything for her son. Ever since her husband had died, there has been a larger bond between Blaine and her.
A week later, Blaine was sitting in a brown leather chair. His mother was beside him, waiting for Dr. Green to show up. The clock ticked throughout their silence with the beat of their hearts. As they both sat there, holding hands, sharing glances, chests rising and falling, they exchange thoughts and fear. Will everything be okay? Don't look up, what ever you do, just don't look up.
The door creaked as some light shined in through. Blaine never realized how dark the room was until then. Dr. Green walked in casually and took his seat in front of the two. He held a coffee mug and clipboard in his hands.
"Greetings. I'm Dr. Green. I hope you don't mind me drinking my morning coffee here," he smiled. My mother stood and gave him her hand to shake. Blaine quickly followed her motion.
"So what is bothering you today Blaine?" He asked as he set down his clipboard onto his lap, and put the coffee mug on a small coffee table that rested between all three of them.
"Before we start, I think it's best if I wait outside so Blaine can express himself freely," his mother said. She knew it was best even if she didn't like the idea. She wanted to be with her son and be able to help but she knew she had to do the right thing.
"Of course, I should have given that as an option. My apologies," Dr. Green stated clearly.
And in a few seconds, his mother was off. She had taken her bag, slung it over her shoulder and exited the room. A sliver of light came in as she opened the door. She looked at Blaine and Blaine looked back. Their eyes met and they both gave each other a reassuring nod saying that everything was going to be okay.
"Shall we continue?" Dr. Green asked. His pen was hitting his clipboard in a beat that bothered Blaine with in seconds. His eyes lingered toward the man's hands and finally spoke.
"Yes." Dr. Green looked at Blaine curiously then understood why Blaine's face was so 'annoyed.' Dr. Green immediately stopped.
"Why, I'm sorry. This pen tapping is an old habit of mine. So tell me Blaine, what is bothering you?"
Blaine took a deep breath. "I'm scared of looking up," Blaine pushed out. He felt his fingers shake and soon he was tapping in a similar beat as well against the leather chair. He saw Dr. Green take some notes.
"Looking up where exactly?" Dr. Green asked. I cracked my knuckles out of nervousness and continued. Don't look up, what ever you do, just don't look up.
"Anywhere but mostly the sky." Blaine relaxed a bit. Dr. Green was only scribbling what he was saying. Judgments would come later.
"Hmmm, so when did this start Blaine?" He asked while looking up. His glasses that were perched up on his nose slowly slid down. The scent of peppermint rubbed off of him as he inched closer to hear my answer.
"A couple of years ago," He answered while trying to avoid Dr. Green's gaze.
"Any significant changes happen in your life at that time?" He pushed. Dr. Green knew he was making Blaine uncomfortable but this important information was far better then making him feel like milk and cookies. It was about the money, right?
"My father died," Blaine whispered. He didn't talk about his father much except that he was a musician too, just like him.
"Would you like to talk about it?"
"A plane crash," Blaine blurted out. "He was a pilot. He was knocked out by some guy and—"
"Blaine, it's alright, you can tell me anything. Nothing leaves this room," Dr. Green interrupted.
"Thank you, uh, Dr. Green. This person crashed the plane," Blaine said with anger. Dr. Green kept scribbling away.
They both continued to discuss the issues until they heard the softest knock on the door. It was Blaine's mother. She had been sitting outside for what seemed like hours. Her eyes were bloodshot red, and her face was stained with tears. Blaine was first to stand. He guided his mother the empty chair. Dr. Green handed her a tissue.
"Lot's of intense emotions here today? Mrs. Anderson, would—"
"Ms. Anderson," she corrected while whipping her tears.
"Of course, after your husband died, yes. Ms. Anderson would you like to talk with us as a group?" She took a breath and nodded. Blaine rubbed her mothers back to placate her emotions.
"It's my fault why Blaine is here," she blurted out. She began to cry even more. The puzzled looks on Dr. Green and Blaine's showed that this woman was crazy.
"I'm sorry, what?" Blaine asked. "This is personal Ma, it's not your fault."
"I shouldn't have brought you that day to the airport to see your father. I shouldn't have, I shouldn't have, I shouldn't have," Blaine's mother kept repeating between shaky breaths.
"I wanted to be there. I know, we both saw his plane crash up above our heads but—"
"Blaine Anderson, I'm going to stop you right there. What did you just say?" Dr. Green interrupted as he readjusted his notebook to scribble down more notes.
"He died in a plane crash, in the sky. I saw it happen," Blaine repeated. He ran his hands through his curly hair so just maybe his arm would cover his teary eyes. He sucked in air through his nostrils and waited for Dr. Green to say more. Don't look up, what ever you do, just don't look up.
"Blaine, I think I know what the problem is. You have Anablephobia, the fear of looking up. Fears usually come and go but some stick for a long time. Your fear comes from your Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Seeing your father die above just made you angry and scared of every looking at the sky again. You are afraid it is going to happen again, to someone you love." Dr. Green looked straight into Blaine's eyes as he spoke.
"But—"
"Blaine, it's alright. Why don't you come once a week and we will help you out? The first step is admitting you have a problem. Do you have a problem Blaine?" Dr. Green asked. He pushed his glasses back to the bridge of his noise.
"Yes, but—" Dr. Green silence him with his hand. He shook his head and stood up. He shook Blaine's hand to shake and then his mother.
"I will meet you at this time next week. We will discuss matters later. We ran over time and I have patients outside. Good-bye, Mrs., er, Ms. Anderson. Good bye, Blaine," Dr. Green said as he walked us out.
"Bye, Dr. Green," Blaine replied and they walked out.
It was about two weeks later and Blaine still went twice a week to therapy. Looking up was still an issue. He even had to lie about forgetting to sign the permission slip to go rock climbing with his gym class. It was embarrassing.
He couldn't believe what Dr. Green was saying to him either. Anablephobia? The fear of looking up? It just didn't make sense to Blaine and all he wished for was it to be over.
"Hey Blaine wait up!" Kurt said as he ran up to Blaine. He was at school in the boy's locker room. He was putting on his shorts when his friend Kurt came up to him. He liked Kurt. He was the kind of guy to bring up your mood. "I was wondering if maybe you can help me get my books from the top shelf…if you haven't noticed, these shoes can not be bent while I stand on my tippy toes."
"Kurt, what makes you think a short guy like me will actually be able to reach up and get your books?" Blaine asked with a smile.
"Well…uh...can you, please?" Kurt asked as he clasped his hands together and made a begging smile.
"I'll try, no promises." Blaine walked over to Kurt's locker and looked up to the top shelf. Oh god, here it comes again. Crash! Fire! "Blaine, get out of there!" He could hear his mother call. All those years ago and it still sounded as if she were right next to him. Don't look up, what ever you do, just don't look up.
Blaine felt his head get heavy. Dr. Green told him to sit down and close his eyes if this ever happens. He tried to sit down on the bench but he was too dizzy to even do so. He fell on to the floor and cried in pain.
"Ma! Please, ma, please!" Blaine kept crying through his trance. The memories kept flooding back to him. He could feel the blood pumping through his veins. Kurt looked shocked and stunned. He didn't know what to do. He ran over to the gym teacher's office and went to the phone without permission to call the nurse.
"Help! Please! Blaine Anderson is having a panic attack in the boys locker room!" Kurt screamed through the phone. In minutes the nurses were there and five minutes later there were police cars.
"Ma…" Blaine kept moaning. He couldn't stop himself. His eyes closed shut and he could vividly see the moments when Blaine heard and saw the fire on the plane. The crackle in the afternoon sunset was still ringing in his ears. And then, everything went black.
"Blaine, my baby Blaine," he could hear his mother say. Blaine groaned and turned to his side. He opened his eyes in slits and couldn't remember where he was. He saw Kurt looking over him, making sure he was okay. His mother was petting his head trying to appease his emotions.
"Ma-"
"Shh…baby, it's alright now. Don't you worry Blaine. Everything is going to be okay," she soothed. He closed his eyes again and fell back into the pillows. The walls in the nurse's office were yellow with pink layout beds for sick people. Sick people like Blaine.
He overheard the nurses talking to Kurt about what happened. He did deserve to know, even if Blaine did not want Kurt knowing about it. He didn't want anyone to know about it. He felt his face get hot.
"Wa..wa.." Blaine's voice shook as his stuttered his words.
"What is it Blaine?" His mother asked him.
"Water," he managed. He gulped some more air and his back arched a bit. The nurses pushed him back down. Don't look up, what ever you do, just don't look up.
"Breathe, Blaine I need you to breathe," the nurses asked him. They showed him motions on how to do so as if they thought he was too dumb enough to remember. He didn't even watch anyway. It was painful to open his eyes.
This went on for a few minutes. Finally, the nurses left his mother alone with him. She gave him some pills that the nurses gave her before they continued on to the other sick students. Kurt went off to his classes again as the principal instructed. Yes, the principal was invited to the social gathering as well.
Blaine swallowed his pills dry and fell back into the hard bed. He hated pills and his mother knew that but he was forced to, plus he hated experiencing this attack. His mother kissed his temple and ran her hands into his dark curls. "My Blaine," she kept whispering to herself.
Blaine scooted over so his mother could lie on the bed next to him. When she did, he snuggled at her side, clutching her shirt. His tears stained his face and moistened her clothing. He couldn't take this anymore it was too much.
"Blaine, I want to help you," was all his mother could say. They were silent for a while when Blaine's tears took a rest stop. He began to get tired and yawned in his mother's chest feeling the slow steady heartbeat that thudded in her body.
Within minutes, Blaine was fast asleep. His mother kissed him once again and fell asleep as well. The two, so peaceful, so calm, could not have lived a day without each other. They both knew it, and were both sure of it.
They both found themselves in Dr. Green's office the next day. It was odd to see the two so pale looking people, locking themselves up in a dark office when the sun shown beautifully through the tree leaves. Blaine felt weak. Why couldn't he just face his fear? It was only a matter of time until he went crazy from it.
"Blaine, have you been taking the medication I gave you?" Dr. Green asked. Blaine's mother was asked to sit outside so it was just the two of them alone.
"No, I'm sort of against those things," Blaine said quietly while looking down. Don't look up, what ever you do, just don't look up.
"And why is that?" He asked as he scribbled down some more notes.
"I don't think taking pills is the way to cure someone." Blaine looked around the room. He felt his face get hot and all he wanted to do was go home.
"So Blaine, if you had a fever and you had the choice of taking your antibiotic or not, you would say no?" Dr. Green asked. He didn't like the idea of Blaine being so natural about his body. It was time he realized that we are changing everyday and our body can't handle the demons that lay within them.
"Yes, I would refuse to take them."
"And if this fever soon turned into a deadly infection you would still refuse?" Dr. Green pushed. He wanted Blaine to change his mind. The plants around them drooped down and tried to drink the air hoping to find water.
"Dr. Green, I don't get it. This Anablephobia thing isn't a life or death situation," Blaine argued. He didn't like having an artificial, man-made device go through his body and change him. It didn't seem right.
"Don't you get it Blaine? The phobia you have is a sickness. And it's crawling up your back every minute of the day. Once you take the pills, it will vanish. I promise," Dr. Green said while taking off his glasses. He seemed more intimidating this way and it made Blaine extremely uncomfortable. He squirmed in his seat.
"I just don't want something changing who I am and not having control over it," Blaine finally said.
"The pill doesn't change who you are Blaine. It kills the phobia that is keeping you from being who you are."
The day went on and when Blaine's mother asked what had happened inside, Blaine refused to answer. He didn't want to discuss Dr. Green's foolish prescriptions. Blaine's mother shook her head and headed to the living room where she could rest.
"Ma, I don't want to go to Dr. Green's anymore." He saw his mother's breath quicken as she looked at him from afar.
"You are going Blaine. No excuses." It was the first time Blaine ever heard his mother speak like that to him ever since his father had died.
"He's crazy Ma! I can't stand him! Please don't make me go," Blaine whined as if he were five again not wanting to go to school.
"Blaine Anderson, you are going no matter what! Do you hear me? Go to your room," Blaine's mother yelled.
"Ma—"
"Room!" She boomed. Blaine stormed off and he was never to be seen until dinner. He didn't even want the food. His mother forced him to eat just so he wouldn't starve. His mother was stressed. It was normal for her to yell. Her child was going through a tough time and she had to make sure he was safe. If yelling was the only way then she had to.
Her headache pulsed through her forehead as she slid down on the couch after she cleared the plates. Blaine had stomped to his room again. Deep down she felt bad about yelling at her son but she was also under so much stress and anxiety she wasn't sure if she could even think about that right now. If Blaine didn't go to his therapy sessions, he could get worse and possible go mental.
As a mother, she knew she had to anything to help her son. It was a tough time for both of them when Blaine confessed about his "problem." She knew she had to be supportive but if it's his problem, it's her problem as well. So she rubbed her head to soothe her headache and only got up when a student came to give Blaine the work he missed that day. The principal felt it was right to let him stay home after the panic attack. His mother agreed as well.
Blaine was furious. How could his mother make him do something he didn't want to when it was his issue? Why does he have to suffer? Clearly anything he did wasn't helping. Maybe Dr. Green was right. Maybe he should take the pills. He snatched the bottle from the garbage can. "That will show him," Blaine thought.
He popped open the bottle and slowly poured the pills in his hands. Screw serving sizes, nobody uses them, right? He put 10 pills, and then he added more and more until he got to 30. They were all in his cupped guitar playing hand. He brought them to his lips and started to put them in his mouth. If he died, he wouldn't have to worry about looking up anymore, right?
"Blaine, can we talk?" His mother said while knocking on the door. He didn't even hear her walk up the stairs. Blaine was paralyzed. What was he doing with himself? He looked down at his hand. He was in shock, in terror. Don't look up, what ever you do, just don't look up.
She twisted the doorknob slowly and walked in on her son. Blaine dropped all the pills and kept staring at his mother and she kept staring back. She was shocked but more so scared that her son would do something like that to himself. Blaine ran into his mother and hugged her tightly crying into her shirt. She started to cry into his shoulder but quietly. "Is this my fault? I shouldn't have yelled at him! I'm such a bad parent, such a bad parent, such a bad parent…" she thought to her self. They both stood there crying until she pulled apart. She got down on her hands and knees and started to pick up every pill one, by one.
It was many years later since Blaine had gone through any anxiety attack or tried committing suicide. He was living in an apartment in New York with his husband Kurt after they went to college together. His mother had past away just a few years back from a brain tumor. Blaine's phobia was vanished as Dr. Green put it but he never took any pills for it. It was Kurt and his mother that pushed him through it.
Blaine was feeding the dog when he got a phone call from an unknown number.
"Mr. Anderson?" a man's voice asked. Blaine's eyebrows came together in confusion trying to recognize the voice.
"Yes, this is he," Blaine replied. His voice was horse.
"It's Dr. Green. I found out about your mother. I thought I'd give a call and say I'm sorry for your loss," he said quietly.
"Oh, um, yes. Thank you," was all Blaine could say. There was a long pause until Dr. Green finally spoke once again.
"How are you?" Blaine knew that the man wasn't talking about how he was feeling or about his new life but if his phobia was still attacking him daily.
"I have been fine. Dr. Green, I just wanted to say thank you. For everything you did. It took me a long time to become myself again and without you I couldn't have. I have been able to look up ever since. It's my favorite part of the day," Blaine said while smiling.
"Well Blaine, I am glad. But what exactly is your favorite part of the day? I am sorry I didn't quite catch that part."
"Looking up at the stars with my husband, every single night."