A/N: If anyone knows of other places to post links to my fic, let me know. As it is I only post this to and the kurt_blaine LJ community (awesome comm BTW~). Someone told me I should link it in more places but to be honest I don't know any *shrug*. So yea! Let me know? Once again: Thank you for all the support!

A/N: So I don't know if any of you have picked up on this, but throughout this fic I have been trying a few different styles. Since this is my first *real* fic I wanted to experiment with different styles and lengths and POVs and structures and such. This chapter is very short and very stream-of-consciousness so let me know what you think! I wanted something short to bridge this chapter with the much longer and plot-driven Chapter 11 that will sort out Blaine getting to Dalton. I also felt I needed to address Blaine's thoughts after what he tried to do in his last chapter. I apologise in advance if this chapter does not read well or seems very different from the rest!

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of the characters in Glee. Sadly.

Where do I go
Follow my heartbeat
Where do I go
Follow my hand

Where will they lead me
And will I ever
Discover why I live and die

In the distance a giant clock tower could be heard chiming. After it played a short melody it rang six times; one for each hour.

"It's six pm...already..." Blaine muttered to himself mindlessly.

He flexed his hand, curling each finger up and clenching and unclenching a tight fist over and over again. The feeling of the sharp letter opener that he had gripped in his hand only a short hour ago still remained. No matter what he tried it still felt like he was holding it - like it was glued in place. His mind was not much calmer; the visions of telephone chords and cars flashing by like a horrifying slide show. It all felt very suffocating.

One thing was certain: Blaine was not ready to talk to his parents. So he found himself wandering around the still busting city. It was getting dark and things were starting to quiet down, but people still dashed here and there and the sound of cars was always present. The streetlights buzzed and all at once flashed on. As if it was a warning to the hordes of people, the streets emptied and cars became scarcer.

After another 15 minutes of walking Blaine was getting near the heart of the city. Up ahead was a small park. It was an odd place, surrounded by giant walls of brick and cement formed by the many buildings, but even from a distance it looked and felt inviting. He had not known why he had kept walking or what he was walking to, but the tiny patch of green trees seemed to be calling him from a distance.

As Blaine got close, the park was just across the street now, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

Where are you? – Mom

Without thinking, he hit the delete button and shoved it back into his pocket. All he wanted at the moment was to be alone and to think. The day's events had taken such a toll on him and the fear of what he had been about to do still lingered. Blaine was a smart boy and he knew things were bad. Something had to change and it had to change now. Some quiet thinking in the park seemed like a good idea to figure things out.

The park was even smaller than it had looked from a distance. All that it contained was a dozen or so trees and one tiny bench in the middle. Blaine's eyes were instantly drawn to that bench. It was jet black, even more so in the dark, and was made of metal that looked very cold. The design was oddly French looking and very elegant. It seemed so out of place, like it was lost and all alone. Somehow it even looked...sad.

Blaine walked up to it and ran his hand along the top edge. Like he suspected, it was very cold. It gave him an idea however. He took the hand he had been fidgeting with and placed it firmly in the middle of the black bench on top of what looked like a rose pattern. A freezing sensation crawled up his arm at first, but slowly it faded. Feeling that spot where his hand had it now felt warm. With a tiny bit of hesitation, he crawled up onto the bench and lay facing the sky. That same freezing sensation now exploded all over his back, but again it soon faded.

"I wonder if anyone is looking back at me..."

He looked up at the night sky. For the most part it was just a thick black with hints of blue still present. To some people this might be calming or even beautiful, but to Blaine it just made him feel tiny and very alone.

"What if no one is though? What is the point of this, of everything, if no one looks back after they die?"

A cool wind was blowing through the tiny park and it sent small goose bumps shooting across his skin.

"This can't be everything. This CAN'T be my entire life. If this is my entire life, the sadness, the anger, the loneliness...then why didn't I just...just..."

Blaine winced and thrashed his head to the side. No. I am not going back there. Shortly after he had read the letter he promised himself it would not happen again. Knowing someone might be out there that could feel for him like Mrs Tebbit had felt for Susan had caused this. He didn't know if things would ever get better, but he knew they could, and he had to at least give himself the chance to let them get better.

"It's not fair. I don't want to have to wait for something that...that...that might not even happen. Why can't things just get better now? Why do I have to keep living like this?"

A car backfired in the distance. Other than Blaine's voice it was the first sound in quite a while.

"WHAT DID I DO TO DESIRVE THIS LIFE!"

Blaine was now sitting up, panting, and red in the face. As some birds flew out of the tree next to him, he realized just how loud he had been. Sulking back down into the bench, he began to cry softly.

"God, if you exist, you are...just...really fucking cruel. All I wanted was to be normal. That is all I have ever asked of you. You are supposed to be able to cure the sick and help the blind to see, but you can't just reach down and...fix me too?"

This outburst had given to a new surge of tears. It was beginning to seem hopeless to try and figure out a way out of this rut. Nothing seemed to help and with every passing moment he could feel all those dark emotions creeping closer.

"I would give anything to be someone else...anyone else..."

The wind started to pick up and a strong howling noise like sirens started to ring through his ears. As he looked up the trees all around him started to bend and sway. Suddenly a loose piece of paper hit him square in the face. It seemed to just appear out of thin air. Peeling it off his face, Blaine stared at it. The paper was bright pink, so bright that it even showed it the dark of night. It read, it thick black letters that seemed to be absorbed into the pink, "THERE IS HOPE".

"There...is...hope..." Blaine repeated to himself.

He searched the paper for other writing, feeling it had to be some kind of an advertisement for something, but nothing apart from the three letters marked the paper. Looking around the park, he had no idea where it might have even come from.

"What is this, some kind of sick joke?" he spat, getting quite angry. "Is this your way of taunting me, God? You make me queer and then send me this thing mocking the fact I am some disgusting piece of shit everyone hates? FUCK YOU!"

He went to rip the paper in half like he had done to the pamphlet Sean had given him easier, but something stopped him. He felt his blood pumping excitedly as he prepared to rip it, but that was as far as he could go. It was as if invisible hands were resting on top of his own and preventing him from harming the paper. There is hope. The words rang through his mind over and over. There is hope. He tried harder to rip the paper now, wanting to prove to himself that there was no hope.

"It's hopeless! You hate me! Or don't exist! I'm...I'm never going to have a nice life...I'm always going to be miserable...and...and gay..."

Finally, he gave up and just threw the paper back to the air where it came from. It instantly flew back and hit him square in the face once more.

"Get...OFF me!" he screamed, slapping the paper away.

Like a magnet, it swiftly flew right back at his face. Nothing seemed to be able to get rid of the paper and those three words. He tried ripping it again, but it was a lost cause. Out of breath now, he finally gave up and just held the pink paper in his hands.

"Hope...how...how can I have hope after tonight..."

Blaine remembered the other piece of paper he had found: the letter. Mrs. Tebbit's voice was still playing in his mind like an old recording as it read the letter out loud, "My heart is yours – eternally". It had stopped him from doing something truly horrible already, but those feelings of hope were fading.

"Your...your gone, Mrs. Tebbit. And you are never coming back. How can I have hope now? Not even you could smile through all the pain. I was going to fight, because of you, but...you ran...and just left me..."

The anger he felt earlier was brewing up again. She had been his only source of hope; his guiding light. It felt like he had been stabbed in the back. He was prepared for his parents to disappoint him, but not her. Every week he listened to her go on about being strong and things getting better and standing your ground. Watching her black car speed off into the distance felt like a large part of his heart was driving off as well. Now he felt empty, alone and above all hopeless.

"I can't...I can't go back to school. I can't face my parents. I can't...I can't...I can't..."

Once more the giant clock tower could be heard chiming in the distance. After it played the short melody it rang seven times. As it did, Blaine could feel his phone buzz once more in his pocket. Sighing, he took it out and read it with much hesitation.

Please come home. I've talked to your father. He has calmed down. You can come home now. He has agreed to let you transfer schools. This one I found is quite far away, but it has a strict no-bullying policy. Come home and we can talk. – Mom

Looking back down at the pink piece of paper still in his hand, the pink seemed to glow slightly brighter.

"There is hope..."

Blaine was starting to believe that, perhaps, there just might be.

A/N: I know, I know. It was a quick one! Still, I hope you enjoyed it. Slightly less angst heavy than some of the other chapters I hope. As many of you pointed out, I am not good at judging angst levels - even if it is my own writing *shrug*. ANYWHO! Please review, you know how much I love reviews, and next chapter will be up when it is up and that is all you are getting about that!