A/N: I posted this story earlier in the week, but for some reason the link wasn't working and it kept giving me problems. So here it is; I've re-uploaded it. This idea wouldn't get out of my head, so I just had to put it into words. I've also already typed more than half the story up just so I'd know I wouldn't abandon it. It won't be too long, at least ten chapters. I'm excited to keep writing, and hopefully you guys will enjoy too!
Warning, there will be a scene containing sexual abuse in this chapter. With that being said, read on!
You want to know our back-story? Well, fine, I'll tell you. I'll entertain you with the story of us, of Quinn and I. I warn you now though, it's a tumultuous journey; filled with highs that exceed over the boundaries of the universe, and lows that graze the very depths of Hell. It's complicated and tragic and so beautifully ugly. This story will not be dapper sunshine and chirping blue jays. No, I'm afraid to inform you that this story will be dark and horrid. There will be bright, shiny moments where ease is felt, but those moments are blackened quickly. Does this story have a happy ending you ask? It depends on how you define happy. So here is our story, no boundaries or holdbacks. Feel free to make your assumptions of it, judge us if you will. But quite frankly, I don't give a damn.
I suppose the story of Quinn and I starts before there even was a Quinn and I. This tale begins on a cold night in early February. Winter was still latched on to us, so snowflakes trickled down that bitter evening. Santana and I were clad in boots and coats, trekking our way through the ice-dusted sidewalks. That night was normal, nothing out of the ordinary. My peace of mind was still secure; it would be in fact, only a mere couple hours later that my body and mind would shatter.
"Explain to me Santana," I said, with chattering teeth. "Why again are we doing this?"
Santana huffed, a tiny cloud of breath puffing from her pale pink lips. "Because Rachel, if you want to have status you need to be seen. You can't sit at home sulking and expect popularity to knock on your door."
"You're ridiculous." I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms over my chest, huddling away from the icy wind that stung my face.
Santana's response was a shrug and then we were nearing the house. It was huge, a mansion more so than a house. It was breathtaking, the crisp ivory house cloaked in heaps of snow, silhouetted against the navy blue night's sky. Warm honey light pooled out from the windows and lit up patches of snow. Jagged crystalline icicles were suspended on roof fixings. Music gave the whole house a pulse; I could feel the pounding cadence from outside. Side by side, Santana and I took in the awe of the house. The magic of the moment ruptured and Santana and I traipsed through the doorway.
Writhing bodies were everywhere, compressed together in dance, wedged together in trying to go somewhere. The party was clearly a success. Santana quickly lost me; I watched as her raven hair swished away before the mass of people swallowed her. Knowing it was pointless to search, I battled my way through the throng until I made my way into a vacant bedroom.
I wasn't sure whose house this was, or even who was throwing the party. I wandered around the bedroom and inspected my surroundings. I was clearly in a boy's room. A navy blue coverlet was scrunched at the foot of a white-sheeted mattress. Crumpled up articles of clothing littered the floor, lying alongside empty potato chip bags and empty soda bottles. A desk was shoved in a corner, almost hidden beneath the countless sheets of paper and textbooks. A part of me vaguely wondered if I should tidy up, since it seemed like I wasn't going to be doing much socializing tonight.
Instead though, I made my way through the debris to the window. At first, all I saw was my rippled reflection in the glass, my body dark and shadowed from the halo of bedroom light. I leaned forward, so that my face pressed up against the frosty glass. I stared out at the snow banks and people that were tramping towards the house.
Remember how I warned you this story would be dour? How I told you there were serene moments that quickly turned sinister? Well, we're about to come to one of those moments, the first moment of earth-shattering, soul beaten wrath.
I heard the creak first. I was turning around to see the source of the sound when the bedroom lights flicked off. The only light came from the moon's reflection off the snow outside. I sensed, rather than saw movement by the door. I realized that I was clearly visible, with the light from the window outlining my frame. I was about to fumble my way over towards the desk when a voice, soft, silky and masculine spoke.
"Nice night tonight," he breathed. Despite the tameness of this sentence, I felt my spine straighten, a chill rippling throughout my body. The voice felt cold, sneaky and menacing somehow. I was instantly weary.
"I suppose," I said amicably. I held my composure, forced myself to remain calm. Yet, my knees were shaking violently.
"Having any fun?" the voice asked, his words sounding closer than before. My fingers began to quiver, and I balled them into fists and put them behind my back.
"Oh, uh, yeah, of course," I stuttered. I could see his body slowly taking shape from the shadows. He was taller and bulkier than I. His face loomed forward slightly; I could see the pale outline of his jaw, the tiny curl at the corner of his peach lips. His eyes remained cloaked by the blackness.
"I-I think I'm going to go find my friend now," I said faintly. My brain screamed at every nerve in my body to move and I did, my limbs quaking as I began to brush past him. That's when his arm jutted out, catching me in the stomach, knocking the breath from me.
His arm clamped around my waist and pulled me, back in the direction of the bed. He was fast; I barely had time to realize I was lying down upon the sheets before a hand pushed down over my mouth. He applied so much pressure I could feel my lips parting, my teeth scraping against the salty skin of his palm. I struggled, tried to push him off of me but he used his remaining hand to pin my arm down beneath his knee.
"Don't put up a fight." He exhaled on my face, the sour tang of his breath stinging my nose. I let out a whimper from beneath his hand and I could see his teeth blaze in the gloom, in a smile.
His free hand crept down; I could feel the cold brush of his knuckles against my stomach as he unfastened the button on my jeans. My heart leapt and jack hammered in my chest. My breaths came out in spurts as I realized what was about to happen to me. I closed my eyes.
I felt the fabric of my jeans slide down my legs, cold air turning my thighs into gooseflesh. I kept my eyes screwed tight as I felt the cotton band of my underwear being yanked down. My fingers gripped and dug into the thin fabric of the sheets. I heard the sounds of his belt being unlatched, and then I felt the ripping between my legs. The excruciating pain that had me squirming desperately beneath the mass of the boy that crushed me down. A sob escaped from my lips, and his hand tightened, his fingers jabbing into my cheeks.
Eternity passed before it was over; before he was pulling away from me, the sound of metal clinking as he did up his belt. As he stood from the bed, leaving my lower torso bare and revealed. He leaned forward, his lips parting in a grin. I couldn't see his eyes, just empty dark pools. His gaze must have been fixed downwards because he plucked my hand from the sheet and held it in front of his face.
"Just a little token of the fun we shared," he chortled. I immediately felt a burning sensation around my neck. My favorite necklace, a gold star, had been torn off. I heard the sound of the door creak open and shut. I lay on the bed, my every limb shivering before I finally dragged myself up. Robotically I pulled up my underwear and jeans; fastened them with stiff, fumbling fingers. I walked towards the door. I did not turn back to look at the bed, or at the window. I did not flick on the light switch. Instead, I wrenched open the door and shoved my way through the crowd. I fought my way to the front door and then I was out of the house, and taking deep gulps of the fresh night air, filling my lungs up with ice.
I walked away from the house, which had appeared like a fairy tale only mere hours ago. Instead it had morphed into a house of horrors. I walked until I found a huge drift of snow. The wind whistled in my ear, swirling hair strands around my face. I stood, staring at the pile of snow. I was completely alone. I launched myself face forward into the snow bank. My mouth opened against the hard packed ice and I screamed at the top of my lungs; screamed for the scream that he had suppressed. Screamed until I tasted blood in my throat, and felt sharp ice particles cling to my tongue. I lay curled in the snow, sobbing.
That was the night my innocence had been brutally torn away from me; the night that had cloaked itself in simplicity before revealing its cruelty. That was the night I stopped speaking.
Reader of this sordid tale, what are your assumptions so far; do you blame me for being weak and powerless? Do you see me as vulnerable and naïve? Maybe you see me as a victim, nothing more. You're probably wondering who my rapist was, aren't you? But the truth is, I do not know. The identity of the boy who stole my virtue remains unsolved. All I remember is the sharp glint of his incisors, his jutting, defined jaw line, and his brackish palms. That's all I remember, and that's everything I will never forget.
A/N: Review anyone? I'll be posting a new chapter later today or tomorrow!