"You're such a fucking faggot!"
"GAYYYYYYY"
"Go back in the closet you homo"
The words passed through Blaine's head a mile a minute, the voices of the bullies taunting him over and over. And look where it brought him, sitting on his bed looking at the collection of razors, glass, and sharp plastic he had collected since he was fourteen. He looked down at his exposed ankles, wrists, and stomach and sobbed. They were everywhere, reminders of just how disgusting and useless he felt, how useless and disgusting he believed he was. Blaine leaned back into his pillows and cried. He cried for longer then he ever remembered crying. When he finally stopped to look at the clock it read 12:30 am. When had he sat down on his bed? What was he even doing? Not knowing what else to do he grabbed a towel, new sweatpants,and his razors and headed for the shower.
Fifteen minutes later he was sitting on the floor of the shower watching red swirl down the drain. Twelve new lines running from his knee to his hip, and five on his ankles. He threw the razor aganist the wall of the shower and leaned back aganist the cool shower wall. Blaine sat and let the steam envelop him, try to take him to a better place.
"I love you, Blaine" said the nameless boy of his recurring fantasies. Blaine looked up and saw the perfect human being standing in front of him. Porcelain white skin, almost transparent. Chocolate brown hair, thicker then a forest and deep brown eyes to match. The imaginary boy wore a simple white v neck and skinny jeans but he was all the Blaine had ever wanted. The imaginary figure came down and kissed Blaine's forehead. And just like that the angry voices came back to him, and the perfect boy was gone.
"FAG!"
"I'm gonna kill you homo!"
"You shouldn't be allowed to live, faggot."
He flicked the razor aganist his wrist three more times before cleaning up and drying off.