A/N- This story is highly based off of my own experiences so please keep that in mind with any criticisms you want to throw at me.

I have a nasty habit of abandoning stories, but this one has been building up in my mind for a while so though my updates may not be spaced out evenly, they will continue.

Warnings- lots and lots of triggers. Every trigger in the handbook. Dark!Kurt, innocent but intelligent Blaine, and even more triggers. Sex, lots of drugs, self-harm, and probably more.

Keep in mind this is the prologue, and the first chapter is coming next. If you want to see my tumblr its HeatherSyvilla dot tumblr dot com.

I also need a beta. Any willing betas, I would be forever grateful.

I do not own glee, please review.

I trust him with my sanity because I cannot trust myself. Life has a way of offering me exactly what I want, only when it's the worst thing for me, and everything I want could tear me to shreds with no effort at all.

I want drugs. If someone handed me drugs I would take them, and if it meant getting on my knees and sucking them off, that was simply a way to get to what I wanted. I was just sucking a dick, no harm, none at all, and even better, I got my high. What more could I ask for?

If someone said they'd give me 50 bucks if I let them fuck me, I'd says I have a condom in my wallet. Its common sense in my mind and a few too many times I was genuinely confused when other people didn't think the same way.

I don't trust myself because, secretly, ever so secretly, I enjoyed it. I enjoyed being used, and I enjoyed the looks of superiority as dirty men thrust into me over and over and threw the money on my naked body when they were finished, as if I was a foolish dog being handed scrap food as a treat. I loved having an excuse to cry myself to sleep, and I tried not to smile as the tears left a tattoo upon my cheek. I loved to feel the burn as the marijuana made the world four dimensional, how it made my mind move in slow motion, and how it made every patch of skin a brand new sweet spot for my dealers to bite at. I loved to come home and watch my dad look at me in concern.

"Were people being mean to you? Are you ok?"

"I'm fine dad. I had a good day."

And in my perfect, clever little mind, it certainly was a good day if I managed to get 100 bucks for only 3 blowjobs, and got a good 2 grams of the good shit when I let a mildly attractive man fuck me from behind. It had hurt, but oh was it worth it. I got the good shit.

"You're acting strange, are you feeling sick?"

"No dad," I would say coolly. "I'm just not looking forward to all the homework I have to do. Night!"

Oh, and if there was one thing I could do better than anyone else, it was lie, my pretty pale cheeks not betraying a hint of pink, and my eyes as calm as ever. My dad never stood a chance of finding out.

But then Blaine came. Blaine with his huge eyes and innocent curiosity, who I would have figured any day would be as naïve as a preschooler asking his mother what a condom was, but saw though my act as if it had never been there. Stupid, stupid Blaine.

I trust him with my sanity, because I cannot trust myself. This story is about my life before Blaine, and how he tore my thoughts apart and made me who I am today.