There was a rope under his bed, pills in the bathroom, blades in the dresser drawer. He had options. He could kill himself right now if he wanted. He could even go downstairs and find his fathers gun if he wanted to. But Blaine had a few things to set straight first. For now, he'd have to make do.

I'm in here, can anybody see me?

Can anybody help?

An empty house was a welcome treat for Blaine. It was a chance for him to unwind, to let it all out. It was about 6:00am, his parents were out, and he had to get up for school in an hour. But for now, he was going to make do with what little time he had.

He got out of his bed and went into the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror; he didn't look good. His eyes weren't sparkling like they used to, his cheeks were gaunt. There were dark rings and bags under his eyes, and his usual 'happy' smile was nowhere to be seen.

Can't you hear my call?

Are you coming to get me now?

He pulled open the bottom drawer under the sink and grabbed a blade. Perched on the edge of the bath, he pressed the sharp edge of the thing to his wrist. The skin was hardly broken, but blood was already dripping down his arm. It felt good. Suddenly rage welled up in his chest. Why him? Why Blaine? Why the perfect student, doing everything he can to be accepted, to be loved? Why do bad things always happen to good people?

I've been waiting for you to come rescue me.

I need you to hold

All of the sadness I cannot, living inside me

He let out a yell of rage that he was sure a neighbour might hear. He didn't care right now, though. He just wanted to get rid of the sadness that had taken over his life. Right now, Blaine didn't even care that he should write a letter, say goodbye to his mom, to Kurt, to Cooper. He didn't care. He just wanted to end it, to bleed out, to relieve himself of this heavy misery that he just couldn't seem to lift off of his shoulders.

He dug the blade in deep.

I'm in here, I'm trying to tell you something

Can anybody help?

Blood spurted out of his arm, onto the floor.

I'm in here, I'm calling out but you can't hear

Can anybody help?

He slashed at his arm.

Can you hear my call?

Are you coming to get me now?

He whimpered in pain.

I've been waiting for you to come rescue me.

I need you to hold

All of the sadness I cannot, living inside me

This was it.

I'm crying out, I'm breaking down

I'm fearing it all, stuck inside these walls

He might just bleed out this time.

Tell me there is hope for me

Is anybody out there listening?

He hoped so.

I'm in here, can anybody save me?

Can anybody help?

He slashed repeatedly at his arm, making deep cuts,

Can't you hear my call?

Are you coming to get me now?

He lost his grip on the blade and it clattered to the floor. He was done. He was a sobbing, bloody mess on the floor.

I'm in here, can anybody save me?

Can anybody help?

Why him? Why Blaine? Why the perfect student, doing everything he can to be accepted, to be loved? Why do bad things always happen to good people?

Can't you hear my call?

Are you coming to get me now?

Then, the door burst open. Kurt was there. He saw Blaine and his face turned white. He crouched down and lifted Blaine's head. The blood from his arm had covered his face. Kurt couldn't tell if he was alive or not.

"Blaine!" He cried out. He didn't know what to do. There were tears running down his face, he was reaching into his pocket for his phone. He needed an ambulance, but his hands were shaking too much to hold the phone.

Blaine opened his eyes and looked into Kurt's.

"I can't do it anymore," He whispered

I'm in here, can anybody see me?

Can anybody help?