Blaine sat in the corner of his room, his mind spinning with constant thoughts and memories that always come back to haunt him. He was having yet another one of his flashbacks, to a chilly autumn day when he was around 13 years old. Flashback. Blaine was with his best friend Jamie, Jamie was not only his best friend but his only friend. They were together just about every single day after school; it was one of those days. They had been walking home from school. The wind was blowing leaves all around them; the air had that autumn smell to it. During this flashback, Blaine could remember the smell, remembering it like it was yesterday. He was talking to Jamie about the bullies at school, the one's who'd throw them into lockers and call them mean names. Blaine looked down at his feet, watching his steps, counting 1, 2, 1, 2 as he talked. He didn't usually like to talk, that's how he kept himself distracted or he probably would have stopped talking and bottled all of his feelings up inside. Blaine noticed a bruise that had began to form on Jamie's cheek; he knew right away it was from one of their bullies. The shades of purple and blue were very noticeable on his ivory skin. In order to get home, they had to cross a bridge. They crossed this bridge everyday, and always stopped for a few minutes to look out at the water. Flashback ended.

Blaine was now freaking out, his heart started to pound he could hear it loud in his ears and his breathing became uneven. He rested his forehead against the palm his hand, slowing rocking himself back and forth trying to hold himself together. The flashback continued in his head. Flashback. Blaine hung his arms over the edge of the bridge, looking out at the dark blue water below them. He wondered how far down it was, and what would happen if someone were to jump. He then thought about how silly it was for someone to even think that. He looked over to see Jamie had a blank expression on his face. Blaine gently nudged him in the arm and he'd jumped a bit snapping out of his gaze. Jamie apologized, saying something along the lines of he was just thinking. Blaine nodded and turned around to check out the other side of the bridge, the sun was just beginning to set at this point. The sky had become cloudy and it looked as though it may rain tonight. "I think it's going to ra-"Blaine turned around to talk to Jamie, Jamie was on the ledge of the bridge. Just as Blaine turned around Jamie jumped off the bridge. Blaine quickly shut his eyes, but it was too late he had already seen everything. His best friend was now dead, having committed suicide. Flashback ended.

These flashbacks were enough to send him over the edge. Tears had now formed in his eyes from the memory, the memory of his far too young friend who'd ended his life. He'd continued to rock himself, trying to calm himself down. He only had one coping method it wasn't a safe one but he didn't care. The flashbacks of memories with his dead friend, of him dying, flashbacks of his father beating him, just about an hour ago they were too much. Too much for him to handle. Blaine got on his hands and knees, he had no energy to stand up he felt as though all the life had been drained out of him. He crawled over to his dresser and quickly opened the bottom drawer of the wooden dresser, the wood making a creaking noise as it opened. Blaine dug through the assortment of cardigans and tshirts and found a small box. The box was small, and a Navy blue color it looked as though it once held a piece of jewelry. He opened the box and took out what was inside. Putting it up to eye level the silver razor blade seemed to glisten in light. There wasn't much light in his room, he'd had the lights dimmed.

Blaine threw the box aside and slowly lifted up the sleeve of his long sleeved shirt. He rolled it up neatly, still sobbing and shaking. His forearm was covered dark red lines, obviously fresh cuts this hadn't been the first time this week this had happened. Blaine starred at the cuts for a minute; his sobbing became louder as more memories and reminders came into his head. His fingers trembled as he held the sharp edge against a small patch of skin that had yet to be cut. There wasn't much space for any new cuts but he'd just planned on opening up old ones. Blaine slowly dragged the edge along his arm, making a cut about two inches long. Instantly crimson beads came through the incision, appearing onto Blaine's skin and slowly dripped down his arm. This made him sob more, how did it come to this? He thought to himself. How did things get so bad that he'd resorted to mutilating his own skin? Or Why? Why had this all happened to him, the bullying, the loss of his best friend, the beatings. Blaine wasn't satisfied. He put the sharp edge against his skin again, right next to the cut he'd just made and made another one of the same length and another and another. When he ran out of room, it was no problem. He made the cuts criss-cross and opened up new old scars, dragging the razor against the old ones. The crimson tears were the only tears in his life that seemed beautiful to him. This was a pain that he could control.

Kurt had come to visit Blaine that night after he'd finished his homework. When he arrived at his house, he knocked on the door. There was no answer. Kurt looked around and looked into the driveway. Blaine's dad's car was not in the driveway which meant no one was home except Blaine. Kurt figured Blaine was listening to music loudly in his room so he slowly twisted the doorknob to check and see if the door was open. He slowly pushed the door open when he realized the door was unlocked and walked into his house, closing the door behind him. To Kurt's surprise the house was silent, making the click of the door sound louder then it actually was. "Blaine?" Kurt called out. There was no answer. Kurt took off his jacket, hanging it up on the hook right next to the door and made his way up the stairs. When he'd almost reached the top of the staircase, he could hear sobbing. He right away knew it was Blaine who had been sobbing. Kurt went up the last few steps quicker then the others and made his way to Blaine's room, practically running. Something had obviously upset his boyfriend. Blaine never cried, at least not in front of anyone.

The sight that Kurt saw when he opened the door of his room was a sight he wishes he could unsee, a sight that would forever give him his own flashbacks. Blaine was now lying on the ground; he was laying on his side his cheek against the floor his arm sprawled out in front of him. He starred at his arm as it bled, drops of crimson staining the carpet. Kurt's expression changed to a look of horror, this was so unexpected to him. "Blaine!" He screamed his name, unsure of what that would do about the situation. He ran over to him pulling him against his slim body and into his arms. Blaine grabbed onto Kurt's shirt, he tried to be careful not to stain Kurt's shirt with his blood but he knew that was no use. He cried into his chest, sinking into Kurt's warm embrace, his body still trembling. Kurt fought back the tears that were burning in his eyes. Suddenly all the worry in the world had come crashing down upon him.