Ch. 7 The First …

He was running, and running fast. He stopped short looking behind him to see if the man was still chasing him. He was looking desperately into the darkness behind him when he heard a bang next to him; he turned to see a mocking face smiling at him with shining black eyes. He screamed and started running again. He stopped again quickly turning; trying to see something, anything in the pitch black but there was nothing. Suddenly a wolf jumped out of the darkness and barked 'Run". Off he ran again faster and faster, never stopping, he flinched as he heard the shrill scratch of metal against metal. He ran and ran and ran until he felt himself start falling.

Blaine shot straight up in his bed shaking dripping with sweat, he was breathing hard and had tears in his eyes. He put his head in his hands and leaned forward, rocking slightly back and forth. He had had this dream before, and it always scared him, although he had not had this dream for a few years. He ran his fingers lightly over the scars on his wrist there were only a few there, from his first time. These were his reminders from when he had first discovered he was gay, he remembered that day so well.

Blaine sat on the floor of the shower tears falling freely from his eyes. Today had been the first day at his new school, and he had tried so hard to be like all the other kids, but he couldn't. He couldn't stop watching the boys. He stood up shakily and turned off the shower. Stepping out gingerly he wrapped a towel around his waist and walked into his bedroom. He looked around through tear filled eyes looking for something anything when his eyes fell on a pencil sharper. He walked over and undid the screw with his nail letting the blade fall into his hand. He hadn't even used it for school yet, and he didn't want to either. He turned around and walked toward the windowsill sitting on it looking out on the front yard of his house. He saw that even though it was 830 neither of his parents cars were in the drive way. This was a norm; they never got home till very late. He looked down at his wet arm and pressed the blade to it crying slightly, he didn't pull; however, he just let it sit there, but it didn't help enough. So he pressed down and pulled slowly across his wrist, hissing lightly, as he felt the pain. He stared down at the gash in his wrist and the blood welling from that cut. He watched it bubble and then spill over, sliding down the side of his arm and dripping to the floor. He pulled the blade two more times across his wrist and then set up and set the blade on the desk and got into bed.

That day was the only time he had ever cut on his arm, but those scars were still there. Hip ran his fingers over his hip gently, he remembered every night of tears, every night of fearing that his father would just beat him enough that he would wake up the next morning, and yet Blaine's father still didn't know. He still didn't know that Blaine was gay and it had been four years. He took a deep breath and sighed, he had to do it tonight, and he had to tell his father about Kurt. Blaine walked out of his bedroom and down the stairs stopping just outside his father's study door, and knocked once. He heard the usual cold 'come in'.

William Anderson did not have the outward appearance of a friendly man, and that is because he wasn't. He was a mean hearted cold man, who would never allow anything that he deemed wrong to exist under his roof.

"Good evening father." Blaine said quietly.

"Yes son? What can I help you with?"

"I wanted to talk to you about something, with you actually listening to me."

William set down his pen and looked up at his son with an annoyed glance. "Speak."

"Father, I am in love. I know I have about a year left in high school and that you don't think someone my age can know what love is. I don't agree with that statement. Please father, answer me."

William looked at his son with a slight smirk on his face.

"What is her name?"

"Well that is the thing father, it isn't a. It is a him, his name is Kurt and …"

He was Kurt short by his father's fist hitting his gut. He doubled over as the air left his lungs with a whoosh. He tried to get back up only to feel his father grab him by the hair and pull his head back.

"What did you say?" he hissed.

"Father." Blaine choked out

"What did you say to me? You are in love with a boy. So you are a fag is that it? I will not have this in my house. You have ten minutes to get out of my house." He hissed and punched Blaine across the cheek before throwing him across the room by his hair. Blaine's head cracked into the wall before he scrambled to his feet and ran out of the door. He stumbled up the stairs to his room resting his back against the door. He looked around with a shocked look. He grabbed some clothes and his bathroom stuff. Still moving fast he went to the bed side table grabbed his car keys and on the way out the door grabbed his guitar. He raced down the stairs almost falling when he reached the bottom floor; he skidded out the front door and made it to his car. He slid into the driver's seat revving the engine and taking off. He drove and drove with nothing on the radio until he saw a house he knew. He pulled into the driveway. He walked up to the front door and rang the bell unaware of what time it was. The door opened slightly and a girl stood there.

"Santana." Blaine whispered.

Santana looked at him shocked taking in his appearance, the bruise forming on his cheek the dried blood on his forehead.

"Come in." she whispered.