A/N: This is just me experimenting with some writing style I've wanted to try. Not romance or anything really but just…writing, if that makes any sense. Plus, I've just wanted to start writing again. Period. Sorry for that by the way, the whole, not writing thing. Well, here it is.
It is said that anybody can be connect to anybody in the world by six people. A short chain of, "a friend of a friend" statements and you're meeting somebody on the other side of the world. Some people do it for amusement, a game, the person you start with is required to be a personal acquaintance. Only in this instance it wasn't a game. It was just fact.
Blaine Everett Anderson turned 7 years old today. His mop of hair, jet black at this age, hung down to the collar of his shirt. The icing from his Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles cake was smeared on his cheeks like somebody put it on like lotion. His teeth were dyed a pale blue from the icing but it didn't phase him, why would it, he's 7 today. He wore a pair of basketball shorts and a shirt that resembled his cartoon cake. It's was an exceptionally warm summer day and the sprinklers were spraying mists of water into the air for the herd of children to run through. Their hands and cares were thrown into the sky as the water fell back to the now damp earth. Childhood giggles echoed through the yard and their parents sat admiring, recalling their childhood fantasies. A couple sat peacefully around a patio table with a few other daring adults who volunteered to stay and supervise. Small smiles were playing on their lips while watching their boy, of course they would be smiling, their son turned 7 today.
"I remember when I was that age. When I didn't care whether my clothes were stained, or if I was barefoot running in the mud. When I could just go out and have fun, you know?" The woman who spoke the words had straight hair the same shade as her son's, her hand was intertwined with her husband's who sat his tight, light brown curls hanging loosely in his face, square rimmed glasses framing his hazel eyes. He continued to gaze at the children. He nodded, not uttering a word. The dark haired woman looked at him longing for him to pick up the conversation with his usual comedic tone but all she could hear was the continuing squeal of the kids.
Lately her husband had seemed disconnected, distant. The couple's friends had noticed the change recently as well, but they dared not mention out loud. All the thoughts were shared through obscure glances and hushed, hidden whispers. Everybody knew that he had a temper and they if they were to mention his disconnection he would either go off on them or start falsely participating just to prove them wrong, he was just that kind of guy. After a moment of silence a call came from the yard.
"Daddy! Daddy!" Blaine yelled from the yard. His father snapped from his trance and saw his son smiling, his blue stained teeth showing from ear to ear. The older man sat up straighter in his chair and looked to his son. "Look! Daddy! I can jump the sprinkler!" he said pointing to the origin of the squirting water.
"Go for it, son!" he called back and reached his hand over to rest it on his other hand that was holding his wife's. Blaine got in his starting stance, much like that of an Olympic track runner, and focused. He licked his lips and stared down the sprinkler like it was his mortal enemy. He licked his lips and wiped the hair that was plastered to his face out of his eyes. All the other kids just stared in awe at the amazing feat the birthday boy was about to attempt. He took the first step forward and began his run, his feet squished on the soaked ground and his hair flew our of his face. The kids blurred in his peripheral and the small obstacle approached him quickly. He pumped his arms faster and he jumped. There wasn't much he could do but jump, so he did. His feet rose up and then all too soon hues of green came rushing towards his face after he felt a sharp hit in his ankle. His arm instinctively reached out in front of him and caught himself.
Immediately, he was fine, he stood up smiling and threw a thumbs up to his dad and the rest of the parents who were applauding his miraculous recovery, but when he took a step forward his ankle gave out under him. He felt a sharp pain in his foot and before anybody could react tears were streaming down his cheeks and a blood curdling scream escaped his lips.
His father rose from his chair and ran to his son, abruptly dropping his wife's hand, while she stood gasping. He strode across the lawn, with each step radiating power. The father reached down and scooped up his son as if he weighed nothing. He walked back in the direction of his wife who was now frantically running her hands through her hair and waiting the short seconds before her husband was standing beside her again.
"You take him to the Emergency Room and I'll wait until the other kids leave." she said looking at all the kids who now had worried looks on their faces. She was then interrupted.
"No, no, you need to go with him we'll stay here and make sure the kids get home." said a small blonde mother. Blaine's mom just nodded her head quickly while she scurried after her husband who still held the crying boy. They got in the and the father, Daniel, laid his son gently in the backseat and pulled the buckle over him and clicked the seatbelt. He ran around to the front seat and started the car only to notice his wife, Erica, was having fumbling with the buckle. He then reached over and clicked her seat belt and immediately buckled his. There was not much they could do on the car ride over, Erica turns back to face her son and consoles him with soft whispers while he is screaming and crying in pain. Daniel couldn't take it anymore and while looking from the road to the back of the car again and again.
"Hey." he said his voice stern and filled with authority. Blaine looked up at him sniffling and tears still pouring down his face. "You need to calm down, okay?" he said soothingly and his wife looked at him, wondering what he was about to say next. "Now, I need you to be brave, okay?" Blaine nodded in the backseat and sniffled and continued to whimper softer until they arrived at the hospital. Daniel pulled the car into the parking space quickly and went around to pick Blaine up again from the backseat. They walked fast, their feet carrying them at a fast walking pace, the last thing they wanted was for Blaine to panic more if they started running into the ER.
Erica walked over to the triage desk and started to fill out the mind numbing paperwork. Daniel carried Blaine and sat down in one of the uncomfortable waiting rooms chairs. He put Blaine beside him and felt helpless as his boy continued to cry and whimper. What are you supposed to do when your kid is hurt and you can't help? What was HE supposed to do, as his father? He couldn't think of anything but to give him a pep talk. Even though he wasn't the pep talk kind of guy, he gave it a shot.
"Hey, I'm proud of you." Daniel said looking into his son's eyes that reflected his like a mirror. Blaine's little face scrunched in confusion as he reached up and wiped snot from under his nose. "For being brave," he continued. Blaine nodded, acting like he knew what his father was saying, he then reached his short arms out and gave his dad a hug and his father's arms wrapped around him like a shelter and he felt safe, of course still hurt, but safe. He sniffled and turned his face unintentionally wiping a mixture of snot and tears on his shirt. Daniel smiled, Blaine was definitely hurt, but he could get over it, his bone would heal. Daniel looked to his wife who scribbled furiously on the papers, eyebrows furrowed and tears streaks fading on her pale skin. He didn't think the mistake he made would ever heal. Erica didn't know, god no, she could never find out. If she did their family would fall apart, and he could not let that happen.
His family was his last hope, if he were to lose his job, lose his house, he knew he would always have his son and his wife. He wasn't going to let his mistake change that.
Blaine dug through his mound of possessions laying in his bedroom floor. His bedroom resembled any other teenagers, it wasn't meticulously clean but not particularly a trash dump either, except for today. He was supposed to be packing for a weekend trip to some distant relative's he'd never met before. For some reason he couldn't find his iPod, the most prized possession of our dearest Blaine Anderson. Filled to the brim with the likes of Marilyn Manson to Bach. How he had managed to misplace it he wouldn't know, it was always in his back pocket, his sweatshirt pocket, somewhere. But that morning, before piling into the car, he instinctively reached into his back pocket, only to find the lint from the dryer camping in the bottom. He instantly about faced and bounded up the stairs as if there were no tomorrow and grabbed every shred of clothing or every belonging that had ever touched his closet and tossed it in to the middle of the floor. It wasn't the most practical way to go about finding it, but he was sure it would had to have been left in some other article of clothing he had worn the day before.
He just wasn't quite sure where he would find that. He started throwing everything form t-shirts to loafers around his room and still could not find his lost item anywhere. He threw open the door of his closet once more, pulled the light switch, and looked around. All he found was a small green plastic hand poking out from under a lone t-shirt abandoned on his closet floor.
"What is that?" he muttered while bending down to reach the little plastic hand. He carefully plucked the unknown object off the floor and a realization came over him and he tossed back into the back of his closet it hitting the back wall with a loud bang. He heard the car horn honk warning him that if he didn't get downstairs soon he would have hell to pay. He about faced leaving the small toy behind and spotted what he was looking for right in front of his face. He groaned and scooped his iPod off his beside table and slid it naturally into his back pocket.
He buckled his seat belt. Upstairs in his closet lay the small toy, a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle action figure. Blaine couldn't place the name of the character or really recall the plot of any of the shows, even though it had been such a vital part of his childhood. He only remembers when he go the thing, his 7th birthday. His father got it for him after they left the hospital that day and Blaine toted it around for weeks, months, until his father stopped showing up. Then, he just saw his dad on the weekends, and then not at all and so he never saw the action figure again. Until today. He was unsure how it managed to get in his closet, he hadn't seen it in years, but there it was, now laying in his closet like a throbbing reminder of what happened. Blaine but on a uncaring face and put his headphones in his ears, turning up the volume to where all could he was the loud bass droning out the sounds of traffic around them.