WARNING: REALLY DARK/ DEPRESSING. IGNORES MOST OF CANON. WAY OUT OF CHARACTER.

I DO NOT OWN GLEE

I should have known better. Nothing ever good happens to me. At Dalton I feel suffocated in the god awful uniforms that you could never escape while on campus and the way everyone is 'equal', but not really. The students have their hierarchy whether the clueless, and always absent teachers, noticed it or not. When transferring to Dalton I thought it would be my own version of a happy ending. I finally made it to my safe haven where the only thing left would be the final moments of the movie in which Blaine took my hand with a smile.

I should have known Blaine would choose his status at school over me. When we were alone together everything is perfect. We laugh and talk and just live. However once that bell rings I don't exist in this twisted world of false encouragement. Blaine is proper and practically straight while in these bare, yet disgustingly beautiful hallways. He doesn't take guys hands, or flutter his eyelashes. He is cold and calculated, only laughing when socially acceptable. I sit with a few kids from my French class. We only speak in French and usually only about school and the weather.

I should have known that I couldn't hide from the lonely and depressed feelings that crimpled me at McKinley. However, the feelings are tenfold while I stagger through my days, praying for a time when I could feel like I am living again. I had started on depression medication two years after my Mom died. The loss of her had left me feeling empty. Like I was breathing without actually living, I had gotten used to that feeling by the time I entered into high school. Glee club was good for me, but I never felt enough emotion to think that I could stop the medication. That is, until I met Blaine.

I should have known that it was stupid to place my well-being in the hands of someone else. During my initial conversation with Blaine after Teenage Dream, I cried for the first time since my mom died. It felt good. I felt sad, yes, but relieved. I felt. During our trip to see Rent I laughed, truly laughed for the first time in such a long time that it felt foreign. When he came to my rescue at McKinley after Karofsky's attack I felt love, true love for the first time ever. I felt.

I should have known that going off the medication was a stupid idea. Blaine was my cure. Every time we were together he reached within me to unleash a new emotion. Whether good or bad I was grateful because he finally did something that some of the best doctors in the US had not been able to. I got to witness my Dad's wedding without the fog that had been obstructing my vision for years. And even in that moment without Blaine directly by my side, I felt. I felt loved and safe and needed. That feeling was short lived.

I should have known that everyone would leave me. Karofsky came back, so I had to leave. I physically left them by moving to McKinley, but they emotionally left me. Once I was gone it was like I never existed to them. There were no calls from Mercedes or Tina. No texts from Rachael or Quinn or Brittany. I had become a ghost of a memory to them. I no longer exist to anyone.

I should have known that I would always be Mr. Cellophane. I am almost positive that my teachers do not know my name. I never get called on in class, even on the rare occasions that I actually raise my hand. If I was gone no one but my Dad would notice. And even he would probably feel like a burden was lifted; the burden of a mentally unstable son, who did nothing but cause him trouble. Trouble because I am gay. Trouble because I can't help but attract attention. Trouble because he must pay for my wardrobe and my medication and now to send me to my own personal hell.

I should have known that I would fall back into my black hole. I had accepted my fate of life as scum on the bottom of everyone's boot. I no longer wanted to be that miniscule amount of extra weight that everyone who had ever met me had to carry around. I no longer wanted to be the reason for my dad's humiliation or his financial troubles. That's why I find myself in the bathtub of the on suite bathroom in my Dalton dorm with my favorite all black ensemble. My left sleeve rolled all the way to my elbow, a scalpel poised in my hand directly over the major vein that runs up your arm. That is why I stab myself, puncturing the vein and slicing all the way up until the gash reaches my wrist.

I should have known I would fail at committing suicide. I should have known that Blaine would be the one to save me.

I should have known.

If I write another chapter/sequel/ follow-up it will get happier, I promise. And it will be written from Blaine's point of view. Would anyone like to read it or have I scared you all away?