A/N: So this is my story, Shattered, through the eyes of Blaine. It's not going to be as long as Shattered and will be written in parts. So the first few parts will be centred around Blaine meeting Kurt for the first time and how he changed his life. Then, the next bits will be about something else. I might even add new things that Kurt and Blaine could go through in this, but make it more Blaine centred. If you have anything that you want to see Blaine go through just tell me and I will make it happen.
Let me know what you think. :D
Thank you to SameHere for putting up with my ramblings! :D
Prologue
The words were knives in his ears, he pulled his pillow over his face, squishing it down over his ears hoping to block out the taunts. His eyes were wet with frustrated tears, and he allowed himself to scream silently into the pillow. His whole body shook with fear, he was right back there in the school bathroom. His body bent over the toilet, as the jocks kicked his back. "Make him remember what he is," one snarled. His body trembled even more. He thrashed, trying to pull away. The pillow feeling tighter over his face as he squeezed it down more. "Dirty little fag, needs to know." Tears mixed with his scream as he pulled away. The click of a knife was heard, then all that could be heard were his screams.
When Blaine woke up his sheets were scattered around him. His body sticky with sweat. He sat up slowly, his hands wiping his eyes, not surprised to feel fresh tears on his skin. He woke up every day like this. A part of him was tired of it, the other was so used to it, he was starting to feel numb. He kicked his legs over the side of the bed, it felt as though the air was pushing to get to his lungs, he frowned and then turned to his pillow, sighing when he realised what he had done in his sleep. One day he might not be able to wake up; and a very large part of himself didn't care. He got himself out of bed and walked towards his bathroom. He stripped and got into the shower. His body going through the motions, his head not thinking anything.
Since it happened, he did the same thing every day; woke up and dealt with the night terrors he had been plagued with. He would shower, stare at the breakfast his mother had prepared him, then go to the Hillingdon Centre. Blaine hated the Hillingdon Centre. He had been going there for almost six months now. It was supposed to help. In those six months he was supposed to be making progress. In those six months he hadn't uttered a single word; or even thought to.
He got dressed. He wore his dark maroon chino trousers, and a white polo shirt with his converses. Plain and simple. He pulled his bag over his shoulder, it had three things inside; his book, his tablets that calmed him down when he felt panic attacks coming – he hadn't had to take one in three weeks. His mom said it was progress, but Blaine just thought he was hiding away from anything that would cause him panic in the first place, the third thing was his phone. Something he didn't use. His mom would text him throughout the day, Blaine rarely replied; she was used to that, and she called the centre every day to make sure that he was okay, and they would call her when he left. It was their way of making him feel like he had control over his life, without making him feel smothered. Blaine didn't think it was working that well, but of course he wasn't going to tell them.
Once he was dressed he took the slow walk to the centre. It took him twenty minutes to get there. Some warm afternoons he would turn and walk through the park, he liked listening to the happy children, it almost made him feel like life was okay. The centre was busy when he arrived, but they all seemed to know not to sit on his little sofa. He had been sitting there every day for the past six months, the only time he moved was during mandatory group times; this involved singing or talking about their day, he did neither, just stared, and when they would eat together. Blaine ate with them only because his mom had said if he didn't eat there he'd have to go back to the hospital and be fed by a drip; Blaine didn't want that, so he ate. He acknowledged Sean, the man who worked at the Centre with a brief nod before he sat on his sofa, took out his book and started to read. This is what he did at the centre. He had never wanted to join anyone in any activities, they weren't him and they never would be.
He often found himself wishing that he could escape his life and move into the reality created by the books. He was so caught up in his latest book, that he hadn't noticed a rocking boy standing in front of him until he started to talk. "Hi," His voice was soft. Blaine looked up at him staring. The first thing Blaine noticed was the shiny blue cape he was wearing. He first thought that the little boy just wanted to play, he'd be distracted soon by something shiny and leave him be, but then he kept on talking and Blaine realised the boy wasn't going anywhere. "It's my first day, and I've said hello to everyone, but no one else wanted to play. But I don't mind. I thought I'd say hello to you too," Blaine just stared, not knowing what to make of him. Kurt was a lot like the other children at the centre, so playful and colourful, but there was something else too. Kurt was the only one that looked to be around his age, everyone else came across as so much younger. But Kurt...He had a teenagers' face, and he had that heartbroken look behind his eyes that only a teenager could have. Blaine was intrigued by him. He wanted to find out about that heartache, he wanted to know his story, and without really realising it, he wanted to help fix it. He must have been staring at him for a while because with a sad sigh, the young boy went to turn and walk away. Blaine moved his bag from the chair beside him and with his eyes gestured for the young boy to sit down. Completely unaware that this would change his life in ways that he couldn't imagine.
