It’s slow at first 

Like a gentle breeze

The tide coming ashore

The swaying of the trees

The chirp of a bird

And then it picks up the pace

The wind

The waves

The trees

A hurriance, a cyclone

A storm

And where is this whirlwind of movenment and choas?

Its inside his heart

His mind

His being

The blaring of the alarm, woke Blaine from his alchol induced sleep. "Shut it the fuck up" Blaine yelled, his voice thick as he covered his face with a pillow. The alarm continued to fill their small shared bedroom with its constant string of high pitched beep, beep, beep, beep. Blaine yelled to his room mate, demanding him to turn it off. "Nick if you don't shut that bitch up I'm throwing it out the fucking window!' Nick didn't appear.

Blaine was on a mission. He threw his pillow over the bed, which landed on the floor, followed by the light yellow blanket. Blaine wasn't kidding, he ripped the clock from the wall and threw it hard out of their three story window. He stood there waiting for the metallic sound, smash, on the concrete below. Satisfied, Blaine returned to his bed. Nick soon emerged from the shower wearing just a towel. One look to the empty bedside table informed him of the doom his new alarm clock had faced.

'Blaine you asshole! I only bought that clock yesterday, what the fuck man!' Blaine ignored him. Nick ripped the blanket from Blaine's body that he retreived from the floor. 'Blaine, I am sick of your shit, answer me god dammit!' Blaine stood and looked Nick in the eyes. 'I told you to turn it off, you didn't so I did.'

Blaine shrugged his shoulders and walked past Nick to the small kitchen. 'Blaine, I need that clock, I have morning classes now so I need to be up in time for school' Nick argued, following Blaine to the kitchen. Blaine opened the cupboard door above the sink, grabbed a bowl and poured his cereal.

'Not my problem'

'That's it Blaine!' Nick thumped his fist on the kitchen table, spilling the milk from Blaine' bowl. ' You have no job, you don't go to school and get wasted on weekdays' 'I've had enough of your crap Blaine, I know we have been best friends since high school man, but I can't live like this anymore.' 'I want you to move out'

Blaine looked up at Nick, a hint of panic in his golden eyes. 'No.' 

'Blaine you need to leave, I'm going to class and when I come home we need to be gone. I pay the rent, both parts of the rent so I get the aparment' Nick grabbed his shoulder bag and keys from the table and headed for the door.

'Nick I won't have anywhere to live'

Nick glanced once more at Blaine. 'Not my problem'

A slam of the door and he was gone. The rest of the day was a blur for Blaine. After Nick left he grabbed the few possessions he owned and stuffed them in his old, worn grey backpack, the straps fraying. Before leaving the aparment he made sure to empty all of the contents of the fridge down the sink, jump of all the packaged foods in the pantry and clog the toilet with paper.

'Suck it, you fucker' Blaine almost shouted as he left the threshold of the aparment without closing the front door. Blaine headed straight for the bar down the street and drank till dark. It must have been almost midnight when Blaine's nightmares started to emerge.

Arbun hair, blood soaked jeans, his Mother's screams, his Father's shouts, the letter. It all came rushing back to him like a river during a flood.

He needed to stop the thoughts, the images, the hurt in his heart. Blaine exited the bar and entered the joint night club. He made his way to the dance floor and spotted the biggest guy he could see. The guy his eyes set on, wasn't huge but with his toned arms looked like he could pack a punch and he was right. After Blaine's fist connected with the stranger's cheek, the first blow came almost instantly. Blaine guessed the guy must have a rough day because the blows kept coming, and coming.

Blaine was on the floor now, the guy towering over him, hitting him wherever he could. Legs, stomach, face. To the onlookers, Blaine was sure he would appear to be weak, a victim not even fighting back but Blaine welcomed the blows because with every hit, with every shoot of pain. The images from before dissappeared one by one until all Blaine could see was black.

He could faintly register shouts then felt weightless as the blows stopped. Blaine felt like he was not in his body anymore, he wasn't aware of his surroundings in anyway. He didn't even feel real, so the touch of fingertips of his forehead must just be his imagination. The gentle, slightly confused breath of his name, just his imagination he thought. Blaine tried to open his eyes, that voice he knew it from somewhere. His dreams maybe or was it his nightmares. Blaine managed to crack an eye open an inch. He was greeted by the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.

Arbun hair, blue eyes, freckles. 

'Kurt' was whispered through Blaine's lips. Then he returned to a state of unconsciousness. The beautiful face slowly drifting into the darkness.