Blaine sat with his back against the wall, tears running down his face. He pulled his knees up to his chest, letting out shaky sobs. He could still feel that monster inside of him, burning him from the inside. Of course, his parents wouldn't care, so he didn't tell them. He'd gotten grounded when he'd gotten beaten up at the Sadie Hawkins dance. What would his dad do if he found out that Blaine had been raped? Blaine curled into a tighter ball, hands moving to pull at his curls. He let out a small cry before struggling to his feet and rushing into his bathroom, digging through the drawers. He let out a cry of frustration when he couldn't find anything sharp and ran downstairs, thankful his parents weren't home. He went into the kitchen and grabbed a knife before going back up to his room and slamming the door, locking it. He went into his bathroom and locked that door too before he looked at his reflection in the mirror. He hated what he saw. There was agony in his dull, hazel eyes, his cheeks were gaunt and drawn sickly over his bones, his skin was pale. He looked... dead. He let out a harsh sob at the sight and looked down at the sink. He rolled up his left sleeve and brought the knife to his wrist, slicing it open. He let out a sigh of relief as he felt the physical pain overpower the emotional, blood running down his arm and into the sink. He made another slice, then another, feeling a little bit of numbness sink into his mind as he bled. He dug through the cabinets with his free hand, keeping his bleeding wrist over the sink. He had soon found his first aid kit, and he got out the ace bandage and wrapped it tightly around the bleeding gashes after rinsing them clean. He rinsed the rest of the blood down the drain and cleaned the knife and sink, hiding the knife. He pulled his sleeve back down and went into his room, laying down and falling into a restless sleep.