It was an unusually cold September day; a Wednesday to be more specific and a few weeks into the school year at William McKinley elementary school. It was one of those days where the sun was shining, but the wind was chilly and nipped at your nose and cheeks and so your mom would bundle you up in an extra layer.

Kurt was eight years old and in the 4th grade and sat on the stairs of the school watching the other kids. There were some kids who got off the bus and some kids who got kisses goodbye from their parents who dropped them off and each one of them happily skipped away to join their crowd of friends before beginning another day of school.

And then he saw him.

He was smaller than the other kids. Dark brown hair, tannish skin, and amber colored eyes. A vacant expression plastered to his face as he walked closer to the school. He wasn’t running to meet friends or getting kisses from a parent and more importantly Kurt noticed that he was only wearing a thin dark blue sweater. Kurt wondered how he could bare the cold weather and why his mommy didn’t make him wear a jacket. But he couldn’t wonder why long because the bell rang and that meant that it was time for class.

His name was Blaine. At least Kurt hoped that’s what his name was. Blaine sat a few rows ahead of him and three rows over. He was shy and he didn’t talk much from what Kurt remembered about the first few weeks of school. Blaine didn’t seem to have a lot of friends or any friends really. Kurt wondered if it was lonely being Blaine. But again, Kurt couldn’t wonder long because the teacher was starting to hand out a worksheet.

Kurt watched the teacher pass by Blaine, handing him one of the papers. She paused for a moment looking down at the ugly purple bruises that lined Blaine’s arm and continued on to the next student. Kurt knew that’s what she was staring at because he noticed them when Blaine rolled up his sleeves earlier and the image wouldn’t leave his mind. Kurt wondered how Blaine got them, but decided that he wouldn’t ask because his mommy told him that asking people you didn’t know well personal questions was rude.

“Hi,” Kurt finally spoke up. It was lunch time now and Blaine had been sitting alone. There was something interesting about this boy and Kurt was so drawn to him and he sat down with his bag lunch that his mommy packed for him.

Blaine seemed surprised that Kurt had sat down and mumbled a barely audible “hi,” back.

“My name is Kurt Hummel!” Kurt introduced himself and held his hand out like a proper gentleman.

“Blaine,” Blaine replied quietly again and shook his hand. Kurt instantly looked at those bruises now that he was closer to him and Blaine must have noticed because he pulled down his sleeves and slouched over with that same vacant look on his face as earlier. Kurt wondered why Blaine always made himself look small like he was hiding or why the sandwich Blaine had wasn’t very good looking.

Kurt took his turkey sandwich out of his lunch tote and smiled at the note his mother had left him like she did every day. “Does your mommy ever leave you notes in your lunches?” Kurt asked and Blaine shook his head. “Nobody makes me lunches. I do it myself.” Blaine then did that thing when he slouched down and made himself look smaller than he already was and Kurt thought Blaine looked really sad so he refrained from asking him anything else the rest of lunch time.

After lunch was recess and all the bundled up kids ran around playing tag or playing with a basketball or simply hung out with friends. Everyone except for Blaine, who kept to himself and just sat on a bench in his too thin blue sweater. Kurt decided that it definitely must be lonely being Blaine and went and joined him. He sat down and turned to him.

“Blaine?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to be your friend.”

“I’ve never had a friend before.”

“Well now you do”

And they sat in silence listening to the laughter of the other kids for a while and occasionally Blaine would shiver from that icy wind.

“Blaine?”

“Yeah?”

“Here,” Kurt held out his scarf. “I like this scarf, but I want you to have it.”

Blaine hesitated, but took it and wrapped it around himself, “Thank you.”

“Blaine?”

“Yeah?”

“Why do you have those bruises on your arm?”

Blaine didn’t say anything. He just looked at the ground.

“Did you fall and get hurt?” Kurt knew he shouldn’t be nosey. Being nosey was rude, but he was curious and it had been bothering him all day.

“No,” Blaine replied.

“Did.. someone hurt you?”

Kurt could tell tears were forming in the corners of Blaine’s eyes.

“Sometimes Daddy just gets angry. It’s okay.” Blaine said in the quietest voice he could.

Without any hesitation, Kurt pulled Blaine into a hug and Blaine cried and Kurt felt really bad for being nosey, but he felt even worse for Blaine and he was glad he was Blaine’s friend now because maybe then Blaine wouldn’t be so alone and maybe one day he could make Blaine stop hurting.

Kurt walked home with Blaine that afternoon. Kurt realized that he didn’t live all that far from Blaine and Kurt liked spending time with Blaine anyway. He held Blaine’s hand as they walked and he decided that he liked holding Blaine’s hand a lot.

Kurt found out that Blaine talked a lot once he opened up. He talked about how he liked robots and dinosaurs and he liked to sing sometimes and that was really cool because Kurt liked to sing sometimes too. Blaine also talked about how he had an older brother who left home a few years ago and that sometimes he missed his brother. Blaine didn’t talk about his parents though and Kurt understood.

They stopped outside Blaine’s house. Kurt thought it was a nice house; a pretty blue with a white fence. It looked like something out of a storybook and it didn’t seem like it belonged to a family that left bruises on their son’ arms. It didn’t look like anyone was home and Blaine said his mommy and daddy were at work, but Kurt couldn’t come in because they would get mad if Kurt was still there when they got home.

So Kurt said goodbye and gave Blaine a hug. He said he would see him tomorrow at school and walked home to his house that wasn’t that far away.

It was nearing nine in the evening when Kurt heard the sirens pass by his house and he had a gut feeling something was wrong and so he ran down the street to Blaine’s house. He stopped in front of the police tape and watched as the paramedics carried out a stretcher and loaded it into the back of the ambulance.

Kurt could see a lady through the front window and she looked sad, but she wasn’t crying very hard and Kurt figured that must be Blaine’s mom and there were lots of police officers asking her questions. Kurt then watched a police officer bring another guy out in handcuffs and place him in the back of one of the police cars. Kurt knew that Blaine’s daddy must have been angry that night.

Kurt heard the neighbors say that Blaine’s daddy lost his job today and so he spent the afternoon drinking. He was angry when he got home and one of them said she heard Blaine’s parents arguing and maybe they should have called the cops then. Maybe that little boy wouldn’t have gotten hurt. But nobody knew that Blaine’s daddy liked to hit him when he was angry and nobody knew that he would take it too far one night and so nobody called because it was simply not their business.

Maybe if someone had, that little boy would still be alive

The funeral was small, but it was beautiful and there was a basket full of pretty flowers and a photograph of Blaine that was smiling and Kurt smiled because Blaine didn’t seem to smile a lot and so he was glad that people would remember Blaine being happy. There weren’t many people that came to the funeral and Kurt wondered if they only came because they felt bad because saw the bruises on Blaine’s arms and the marks and they didn’t care enough to speak up about them or thought it wasn’t their place to do anything.

It was another bitterly cold September day and everyone was bundled up as they looked down at the name engraved into the rock that was surrounded by flowers.

“Blaine Anderson
1994-2002
Missed, but not forgotten”

Kurt couldn’t help but laugh a little because Blaine seemed like the most forgotten little boy he had ever met. He laid down a single rose and made his way through the small crowd of people.

“Hi,” Kurt sat down at a nearby bench.

“Hi,” Blaine smiled.

Kurt felt happy because Blaine smiled and it made him smile.

“I don’t feel sad anymore,” Blaine spoke.

“I know,” Kurt simply said. “Let’s go.”

As they walked they passed a stone engraved with a familiar name.

 “Elizabeth Hummel
1966-2001
Beloved Wife”

And next to it

“Kurt Hummel
1993-2001
Beloved Son”