A/N- I'm super sorry this is so short, but I promise all the other chapters will be at least 6,000 words. (That's my goal for each chapter)

So I've started going to narcotics anonymous meetings, and this story and all my lovely reviewers are the reason why. So I want to thank all of you guys reading my story because it really is helping me to move on. I love you all so much, and the NA meetings are just wonderful.

Blaine's parallel from my life had what is confessed in this chapter as well, so most accounts I write come from real experiences as usual.

My tumblr is heathersyvilla dot tumblr dot com for anyone who is interested; I am also an artist so anyone interested in seeing it can go to the portfolio page of my tumblr.

I do not own glee, please review!

"And if the dam breaks open many years too soon, and if there is no room upon the hill, and if your head explodes with dark forebodings too, I'll see you on the dark side of the moon." –Brain Damage, Pink Floyd.

Days passed, and as they did I noticed that Blaine was not always all there. It wasn't in the way that I was never all there, always too high to tell the difference between black and white, quiet or loud. No, Blaine's eyes seemed to go in and out of focus, as if his brain was occasionally tuning into things neither I, nor anyone other than Blaine could see. Sometimes he would look at me mid-sentence as if he had just realized I was there, and then he would just stare at me for a moment before shaking his head. Other times he would roll his eyes out of nowhere, as if someone had said something stupid or annoying.

I didn't mind, to be honest i was too surprised that I had been clear headed enough to notice it at all. I knew that there was some secret Blaine was keeping from me, but I had so many secrets that I hardly blamed him.

My dad was still ignorant of everything, and sometimes I wondered if he guessed, but was so unwilling to admit the truth that he pretended he didn't see anything. I wanted to introduce him to Blaine, because Blaine might fill in some holes in any suspicions my father might have, and I'm sure he would love Blaine's obviously kind-heart.

Blaine and I continued to be together as often as possible, always during those hours my father was at work, but occasionally I would blow him off to go to Ethan's and do what I needed to do. I did feel bad, because I was almost certain Blaine didn't have many friends, and none he actually hung out with other than me. He reminded me of myself in that aspect, and although most would be inclined to judge him for his lack of a social life, this fact made me care for him even more. There was so much about him that everyone else disregarded that, for me, made each day worth living.

I remembered what it felt like to have no one, and I realized how much I must mean to Blaine. It was apparent in the way that he looked at me and the way he reacted when he saw what I was doing to myself. I felt as though all I would ever be was a corpse, Blaine hovering over me, hands pounding over my heart, trying to reawaken a long lost soul.

Every time I saw him it felt like it would be the last, as if every time he turned a corner I would find myself nodding off on a semen soiled mattress, my comforting swirls fading into blue too quickly for me to even say goodbye.

I just needed to get high and it would all be okay. Everything would be okay because when I was high time was just a concept, not a force that continued to stab into my chest over and over again like I had done everything in the world to deserve it.

O.o.O

About 2 weeks into the school year I got the courage to ask Blaine about the things that had been wandering my brain in all hours of day and night.

After Blaine's confession, my head had buzzed constantly with the thought of Blaine huddled on his bedroom floor, razor (knife?) held to his… wrist? Arm? Leg? The picture haunted my brain, and sometimes I could swear the swirls acted out the scene before my very eyes.

Blaine was hiding something from me, and I wanted to know so badly. I wanted to know everything about him, and the questions echoed in my brain, seeming loud and vast when thought of while flying too high to see the ground.

We were sitting on my bed after school when I said "Blaine… where did you, do you, uhm cut?"

Blaine looked up at me from his homework looking started, and slightly afraid.

It had been another one of those days where Blaine had been talking, abruptly stopped, and then looked at me for a moment as if he wasn't quite sure I was actually there. He had reached out and tentatively touched my knee, and then shook his head and asked what we were talking about. That had been about five minutes ago, so I was hoping Blaine had forgotten the awkward moment.

"You don't have to tell me! I just like having something in common with you I guess and…" I trailed off.

Blaine hesitated. "…my legs." He put his hand over his outer, upper thigh, looking vulnerable and slightly confused.

"Do you still do it?" I pressed, now that I had gotten the green light.

"I have to." Blaine said curtly, looking back down at his homework looking terrified, and to my surprise he cringed quite suddenly, and then stood up saying "I'm going to go get water." Rather loudly.

This was especially strange for Blaine, who was always far too polite to do anything without asking bashfully for permission, especially getting a glass of water.

He left the room quickly, leaving me sitting there feeling confused and upset.

Although I had heard his footsteps heading towards the stairs, they stopped at the top, and they stayed that way for many long moments.

The twisting nag of worry was increasing, and not knowing what Blaine was doing was making it worse and worse each second.

I nearly fell of the bed when a loud shout of "No!" boomed into my room from Blaine's place at the top of the stairs. Quiet whimpers fallowed, and it sounded like Blaine was pleading with someone, begging for them to stop.

My head clearing immediately, I ran to the stairs, looking around for a burglar or a rabid animal, or anything other than the sight in front of me. Blaine was standing at the very edge of the top step, balanced so precariously that a single movement might send him tumbling over the edge. One hand was buried in his hair, pulling furiously, while the other hand was grabbing at the wall for dear life. He was muttering and sobbing, and I was only able to make out a few words like 'stop' and 'you said' and 'I will!'

I had absolutely no idea what to do, I had no idea what was going on, and a mixture of fear and pure blankness was consuming me, and I tentatively places my hand on Blaine's arm. "Blaine?"

Blaine started laughing an insane bark, and he turned on the spot so quickly that he almost fell, back first, down the steep staircase, but I managed to grab him by the wait in time and drag him down. We fell tangled together onto the floor, and I held Blaine's torso in my arms. He was still laughing and muttering, and his eyes were so blank that I doubted he even knew where he was.

I thought fleetingly that Blaine might be having a stroke or a seizure, since I had no idea what either looked like, but as soon as that thought came, Blaine's laughter died as quickly as it had come, and he was blinking rapidly and looking around cautiously.

When his eyes landed on me, they widened and he sat up. "Oh my god Kurt, I'm so sorry I'm so sorry!" he continued to apologize over and over again as he got himself off the floor and rushed into my room. I fallowed him to find him gathering his things, still apologizing and quite obviously coming very close to a panic attack, His movements rushed and body shaking.

All I could do was stand in the room, moth gaping open in shock and confusion.

Once he had all his stuff he rushed to my bedroom door to leave, but I grabbed him by the wrist and he turned.

When he turned around, the apologies stopped immediately, and I saw that his eyes were blank again. He was looking right at me, but it was as though he did not recognize me, it was as though I was not there at all. Blaine simply stood there and stared, limp and unmoving.

A feeling of dread rushed over me. In that moment I felt worthless. To have Blaine, Blaine look at me as though I was insignificant, invisible, was like pure rejection and disappointment shot through my veins and into every pore and cell of my body. But as I felt my insides shrink, I also felt a sense of pride. It was me who got to see Blaine like this. It was me who saw Blaine in his strangest and most curious state.

After a moment Blaine's eyes cleared, and he saw me again as tears began to fill his eyes. "I'm so, so sorry, Kurt." He said with so much earnest that it seemed to hit my chest like a full force blow.

"Blaine what is going on?" I said, and I wasn't surprised to hear my voice high and panicked.

Blaine shook his head vigorously, as if trying to rid something through his ears. "I can't Kurt, I can't, please just, please forget it okay? I'll just go, and I understand if you don't call me, but I want you to. I have to go, but please just forget this happened, and call me if you can. I just… I have to go."

Blaine rushed out of my room, and I heard him closing the front door less than twenty seconds later. I could have stood there for an hour, but it felt like five, but when the shock began to melt into numbness, I walked over to my bedside drawer and pulled out a small, square bag of white powder that I knew was not cocaine.

O.o.O

It's a feeling so few people know, to be but a frightened kid shoved down to your knees in front of some old, dirty man, and know that you could walk out any time you like. Every time they would hit the back of my throat, I would get an almost instinctual desire to bite down hard, but I never did. I wanted to punish them for what they did do me, or for letting me do it to myself.

I always smiled afterwards. It wasn't forced, and it wasn't fake. It was a genuine smile that came from a dark, unknown part of my mind that presented itself whenever I saw the scars on my arms, the scabs on my knees, or the scratch marks on my back. I was so proud of them, and sometimes I wanted to show them to the world; show them all who I really was. Sometimes I wanted to tell Blaine, and parts of me still hoped he would see the scratch marks on my back and then yell at me, tell me what a horrible person I was then run away so I would never see him again.

Sometimes I thought about getting clean. It was a simple enough thought, and one night I even stalled my 3 codeine pills a few hours, but the swirls and the fog loomed in my thoughts and refused to let go its grip on my throat. Sometimes, even when I was so high that I had to step outside to get some fresh air, just the thought of being even higher, being so high that the only way I could get higher was if I was dead, made me long for it so much that my chest actually ached with a desire that consumed me completely.

It was easy to forget everything in those moments. It was easy to forget Blaine and his dopy smile, or the way his eyes looked blank when he stared at me from my bedroom door. It was easy to forget how he had looked at me as though he didn't even recognize me, how in that moment I felt more special and more worthless than I ever had in my entire life. In those moments, my mind was all that existed. My mind, and its desires that could so easily be fulfilled.

The day after Blaine had stormed from my house found me at Ethan's shed, in one of those all-consuming moments, and I had to force myself to walk outside to get some fresh air. Though my lungs seemed to inhale actual oxygen for the first time in hours, the air was filled with the moans from out back as some fuck took advantage of Brittany. I wanted to do something to stop it, but all I could do was stumble and trip my way away from the sounds.

My arms seemed to swim through space as if I were underwater, and I reached for my phone and got it out of my pocket, wondering if it was possible for all my bones to disappear.

As I searched through my contact list, I realized with a mind-blowing sensation how weird it was that everyone had skeletons. I wasn't quite sure what I was doing, all I knew was that my fingers and eyes were doing things that my brain wasn't telling them too, and soon I had my phone to my ear waiting for some unknown person to pick up their phone.

"Kurt? Oh thank god..." came a voice.

"Juzza good." I slurred, wondering how I got to the ground.

"Kurt, seriously?"

"Who'r you?" I said accusingly.

I heard a heavy sigh on the other line. "Blaine. It's Blaine, Kurt. Do you need me to drive you home, or are you at your house?"

"Blaine! Come, I need you!" the phone slipped from the fingers, and I let the rest of my body fall onto the ground so I could watch the clouds dance, and so I could observe the earth spinning round right in front of me. It was other worldly, and the phone call was forgotten just as easily as it had started. The only thing that existed in the universe was the trees and the birds, slowly revolving beneath the clouds and bright blue sky.

When Blaine came, standing over me, looking down at me, he looked heroic and godly. His figure towered over me and the clouds revolved above him, and I knew he could touch the sky if only he reached just a little higher…

I was sitting in the passenger seat of me car, with absolutely no memory of getting there. Blaine was shaking my arm, repeating my name over and over.

"You know one day my car is going to get stolen if I keep leaving it at that place." Blaine said grudgingly once he realized I had come to my senses.

He helped me up to my room, as he had done so often in the past few weeks. Blaine laid me down on my bed and got me a glass of water, placing my orange bottle of codeine on my bedside table next to the glass.

"Kurt, can you think?" Blaine asked as he sat himself down beside me on the bed, as if the question was as normal as asking about the weather.

"Blaine, I'm insane. You don't deserve someone who's crazy." I said out of nowhere, peering at him through my bottom eyelashes and using far too much effort to move my jaw.

Blaine laughed loudly at that, as if it were ironic. I knew the irony, or at least a tiny piece of it, but I still wondered why Blaine kept doing this for me. "I wanted to talk to you, Kurt. About the other day."

I sat up slightly, eagerly waiting for him to continue. Blaine seemed to be gathering himself, physically and emotionally preparing himself for something painful.

"Can I trust you Kurt? My common sense is telling me not to, but its like I have trusted you since the moment I met you and I don't know why, but there's something I feel I have to tell someone, and I want more than anything for it to be you." He looked me in the eyes, and I knew I had to keep a clear head.

"I'm listening. I won't judge you, Blaine. I've come down from earlier a bit, but I know how to put on a clear head when I need to. You can trust me."

I meant what I had said. Blaine searched my eyes for any sign of dishonesty, but I was certain he wouldn't find any. Even if I had been lying, I was a perfect liar and he would have never even known, but I wasn't. Lying to Blaine was different than lying to other people. It was worse than lying to myself, and I was certain that it would take a lot more than a silly whim or curiosity to get me to lie to Blaine. This fact in itself scared me beyond most because my ability to lie was my power. It was my crutch when I was in a sticky situation and my way out of everything I feared, but Blaine seemed to be my kryptonite. So yes, Blaine could trust me with this, and I wasn't sure whether I liked that or not.

"Kurt… for a while now…" he sighed deeply, staring at his hands, and then continued. "I don't know what it's called. I haven't told anyone… not even my parents. It's not bad, it only happens sometimes, but from what I know it's going to get worse and… I don't think anyone in my family is schizophrenic so I hate to say that I am but I just don't know what else it would be…" he sighed again. "It's just these voices… sometimes they just whisper and I can ignore them to some extent… but sometimes it's more. Sometimes these… well I don't know what to call them. People? Voices? Thoughts? They take over my mind and I do things that make so much sense at the time… but when I look back on them I have no idea what I was thinking… but to be honest I don't think it was me." Blaine's voice cracked on the last word, and he lifted his watery gaze slightly to look at my face, but not exactly in my eyes. "There are people in my head. Sometimes they control me and I can't help it… they make me see things differently than I'm supposed to, and sometimes they make me see things that aren't even there… I'm so scared to tell anyone. I don't want to go to some hospital. And the worst part, if there even is a worst part, is that I wish that I hated them, but I don't." Tears were falling down Blaine's cheeks, and he finished his confession in a soft, vulnerable voice.

I didn't think there was verbal response to that without it sounding mundane and unnecessary, and even if there was, I was too full of emotion to find those words, so instead of speaking I reached out and took Blaine's hand in my own. Blaine finally looked me in the eyes, and I smiled genuinely at him. He returned the smile as I watched his entire body deflate, no longer physically restraining himself from the rejection I was sure he was expecting.

I thought how strange it was that someone as wonderful and mysterious as Blaine would be relieved that I, Kurt Hummel, drug addicted whore, wasn't turning him down.

I'm my mind, Blaine's… problem? Disease? Disorder? Was only more of him to appreciate, and I would be lying if I said I wasn't fascinated with the symptoms Blaine had described. He had sounded confused the entire time, as though he didn't exactly understand them himself, and I wanted to help him find out what exactly this was.

"And sometimes I hate myself for it." Blaine whispered, as if it were the thing he had wanted to say all along, but had been keeping his lips tight shut to keep from saying it. He looked back down at his hands, and a fresh new wave of tears started falling down his cheeks and onto their interlocked hands.

I looked at him, trying not to show pity in my eyes, and said "I know. But it's not your fault Blaine, and you're such a wonderful person, there is nothing about you to hate."

"How about me going out with Sammy? Dragging you along as if you would ever want to-"

"Blaine, shut up." I said, and Blaine closed his eyes as if he were ashamed of himself. "I understand how hard it is to accept who you are, I get it, and I can't imagine all the things you have to go through make it any easier. But I think you're the most amazing person I have ever met, and the problems you have only show how strong you are."

Blaine shook his head, and I knew he didn't believe me. "I know that you hate yourself too." He said, and this was such a personal non sequitur that all I could do was stare at him. "I see it in the ways you try and hurt yourself, how you talk about yourself. I wish you could see how amazing you are. Buts it's underneath all the drugs and the… the sex that you don't even see it. But I do. That's why I don't believe I deserve you." Blaine began tracing his thumb over the scars covered by my shirt sleeve, and the action, as it had been since the day Blaine had first done it, was more intimate than all the sex I had ever experienced.

I didn't believe him; of course I didn't believe him. Society and everyone around me made it quite plain that anyone who sold their body for money or drugs was nothing but a second class citizen, and in in my young, naive mind, I was perfectly capable of accepting that.

"And you think I'm better than you when you can't even help the things that are happening to you Blaine? And I choose every day to let myself become what I am?"

Blaine shook his head again. "You don't understand."

I tightened my grip on his hand, and said "I want to Blaine. I really, really want to."

I wanted to understand all the things Blaine saw and heard that were only the making of chemicals inside his brain. I wanted to protect him from the pain and hold him when there was nothing I could do to stop the aching. It was a strange feeling, but for the first time in my life, I let myself hold onto it. Blaine was just as broken as I was, and that made me appreciate him a million times more. It didn't change anything, except now I had a reason to smile. I also had a reason not to cry at night, and that made me resent Blaine more than I ever want to admit.