Hello~~ And welcome to the third installment! This was a hard one at first but it settled in quickly for me.

This week's prompt was by GleekMom. It was our first visual prompt. In the future we may have photo only on occasion. So here it is:

Blaine can barely look at himself in the mirror. But what's behind the door...

..shocks him to the core.

pic . twitter hpUJ6Nwi

Through His Eyes readers, I've got the inspiration I needed and I'm going to work on it! So stick with me here folks and on with this week's response!


He looked in the mirror and felt disgusted. Look at him. LOOK! It was horrible, what he saw. He hated how he looked. He was scared, angry, angsty perhaps. He hated seeing what he saw. He hated those scars…those memories…They reminded him of a time, not long ago, when he was hopeless…helpless…Hell…He laughed to himself bitterly. What was he kidding? He was STILL that way…He couldn't…no he DIDN'T defend himself…so many times…

The Dance. That night was horrific and it felt so bad, he was so scared when they came after them…It was horrible, terrifying. He cried out as they knocked him first, knowing that he was an athlete and in good enough shape to fight. They hit him, kicked him, beat him until he couldn't get up anymore. He prayed his friend had gotten away. But no…one of the boys had stepped back, holding him instead of joining in Blaine's beating. He was helpless as they moved from him, now safe on the ground, to his poor friend who was being held captive. He tried to get up but couldn't. He tried to scream but he couldn't manage it. He lay there, unable to help as his friend was beaten into submission, to unconsciousness, to death.

That night had left scars, both physical and mental. He traced his fingers along his stomach. He felt soft, hairy skin of the unaffected areas and cringed as his fingers carefully, gently ran over the raised marks that marred the otherwise tan body. His hands worked around to his side, slid down to the top of his legs, his hips. His scars that remained were all in…less than visible areas. He'd made sure that the visible ones faded as fast as possible. He tried many, some stupid, methods of ensuring it. He'd mostly succeeded. Anything 'visible' could be covered now or was small enough that others didn't see…but he would. He did. Always.

And then there had been a glimmer of hope in a sea of despair. After his lengthy hospital stay, partially due to his mental state and silence, he was released. He begged for all mercy not to go back to the public school. It held far too many memories that he was not yet, if ever, prepared to face. Thankfully, they acquiesced simply because they anted him in private school to begin with. They sent him to Dalton Academy for Boys, a prestigious prep school that they hoped would knock some sense into him. They pointed out, and put extreme emphasis on the nearby girls school, Crawford, but it didn't matter. Dalton felt right.

When he got to Dalton he escaped, he didn't deal with things. He ignored them. He got involved in the show choir, dived head first into classes…and ignored it. He ignored all of it. Instead of dealing with it, he pushed it away. It worked until the nightmares came. And then, once again, the death haunted him, chilled him to the core.

And now? Now he looked in the mirror and quickly turned his head. He could barely look at himself he was so disgusted. He'd failed as a protector to his friend, to others…He failed his family…He was good at failure. It seemed that was all he was good at…Blaine frowned and turned away from the mirror as a whole, so he could not see himself.

He took a step forward, opening the door. He HAD to get out. He felt trapped now, trapped with himself and himself alone. His mind was a scary place and he did not want to be lost in it right now, perhaps ever. Blaine opened the door, gasping at the sight in front of him. What he saw when it opened? It shocked him to the core…He slammed the door shut, breathing quickly, leaning against the door, falling down to the ground. He couldn't help himself, he couldn't stop crying. He couldn't go out there…Not now, not ever if he saw what he thought he saw…Not again…Never again…