Crimson Bliss

Warning: Self-harm. Don't like? Please don't read.
Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Glee. *sigh*

She never stood a chance. She fell victim to the dark depths of her own mind. Her mind was filled with the helpless feelings of a small child, yet it had also held the deep determination of a goal-driven adult. The severe hunger and desire for control she'd lost was almost too much to handle.

Rachel Berry had never felt so vulnerable in her entire life. She'd always prided herself on being composed, the perfect picture of poise. Yet, she was locked in a bathroom stall, sitting on a toilet, telling herself that crying wasn't an option. Stars don't cry, her daddy Kobi, had always told her. So toughen up. She tried to listen to the words that chanted in her mind. At that moment, she had failed. Tears had fallen from her eyes and her body racked with sobs harder than any she'd had in a long while.

It wasn't just what Quinn had said in Glee that had made her turn and run from the room to seek refuge in the bath room. Quinn had told Rachel, along with the rest of their Glee club, that the reason no guy wanted her was because she lacked sexual prowess. Not to mention, she was crazy. It wasn't even because Finn had laughed and agreed with the head Cheerio that had caused Rachel to crumple. It was the combination of every insult anyone had ever thrown at her, the sexual skills (or lack thereof) comment was simply the final straw in Rachel's opinion.

Everyone felt that Rachel was an insane force of star in the making with a lethal combination of annoying and irrational mixed in. But that wasn't a fact. Rachel was a person. She wasn't impervious to the daily insults and the slushie facials; in fact, those acts broke her more than she'd ever admit.

She felt like she was losing control. Every time she got insulted, every time her parents shook their heads at her weekly progress reports, which were both academic and extracurricular, she felt her composure slip as she lost another precious bit of control.

She heard the door to her hiding place bang open, so she immediately shut off her sobs and tears so none of the unwanted visitors would know she was there.

"Did you see her face?" Rachel heard Santana ask. "It was priceless."
"Like she didn't already know what people thought about her? She dresses like she's a grandmother." Kurt laughed.
"No one would wanna tap that." Mercedes added. The room echoed with laughter, the rush of running water and gossip that Rachel was relieved to realize wasn't about her.

After a few minutes of random chatter, and what Rachel assumed was the 'girls' primping and posing in the mirrors, the water turned off, the door opened and the unwanted occupants shuffled out.

Rachel found that her mind continuously wandered to her distant cousin, Regina. She'd once told Rachel about her way to deal with all the stress, pressure, and pain that came from constantly losing control of her life, her solution was cutting. Rachel had never actually seen it as a viable option. Now she could see the appeal. Now she understood that she could create her own control.

She avoided both of her father's when she got home, claiming that she had to study for a Calculus test, which wasn't actually a lie. She really did have to study. She just didn't want them to bother her until they absolutely had to.

She hurried into her bathroom and quietly shut the door behind her. She didn't want to give Kobi and Thomas any reason to come upstairs. She rummaged in a drawer, but couldn't' find any razors or other sharp objects. She had to leave the bathroom. She headed to her desk and opened the bottom drawer which held a plethora of craft supplies, but most importantly, an X-acto knife. She carefully removed the silver scalpel shaped knife and let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding. She rushed back to her bathroom and locked the door behind her this time.

She was so nervous. She had no idea what to do. Well, obviously she knew, she wasn't an idiot. She didn't know how much pain would be involved. She'd never been a stickler for pain, as her tolerance had never been high.

She shook herself, not willing to let her nerves get the better of her and stop her decision. She needed to know if her cousin's solution would help her gain some semblance of control. A little pain would be worth it, she thought. She took a deliberately deep breath and turned her sink faucet on in case something went wrong or she freaked out.

She was just about to press the metal to her forearm when she realized that she didn't want her actions to be public knowledge. She set the knife on the counter and began to study herself in the mirror, thinking about which part of her body would be the best. She finally decided on her stomach, as it would be the easiest to hide. It wasn't like people looked at her stomach on a regular basis. Heck, people didn't look at her on any basis at all.

She grabbed the bottle of rubbing alcohol she kept in her medicine cabinet and cleaned the blade, after all, who knew the kinds of bacteria craft supplies carried. When the blade was sanitized, she carefully put it back on the counter, making sure only the handle was touching anything. She rolled up her sweater, resting it above where she planned to cut, because she really didn't want to explain why she had blood on her clothes to her fathers.

She held the blade delicately in her right hand, though she was shaking a bit. She knew how sharp X-acto knives could be, and it would be easy to slice the skin.

She pressed the sharp edge against her stomach before she could hesitate more. She reveled in the feel of the cold steel against the flesh there. Goosebumps began to surface; she felt a thrill tingle throughout her entire body. She'd never experienced anything so intense.

She built the courage to press harder on the blade and dragged it a centimeter across the flat expanse of skin. She instantly relaxed when she saw the tiny beads of blood that dotted the tiny incision.

She was amazed that she felt better. It felt like singing for the first time. Chilling, but happy. She enjoyed that she could control the amount of pain she experienced.

The line of claret began to slowly run down her stomach. She used her fingers to stop the blood from staining her skirt. She pressed on the wound with her other fingers until she was sure that it had stopped bleeding.

She took a cotton ball and but some of the rubbing alcohol on it. Slowly, she ran the cotton ball over the cut and inhaled a shaky breath. After a few swipes, the cut was free of blood. Rachel covered it with a piece of gauze and a bit of tape and rolled her shirt back down.

When she looked at herself in the mirror she noticed a distinct glow to her skin. Satisfied for the moment, she tucked the blade and rubbing alcohol in an area she knew neither of her father's would check.

After a few weeks of Rachel's cutting, the glow was still there. The glee kids only just noticed.

"Berry, Berry, Berry." Puck said from behind her. "Who plucked your cherry?" She turned to see that he was grinning at her
"I beg your pardon?"
"Don't play dumb, Berry. You got laid, didn't you?" He quirked his eyebrow.
"I don't have any idea what you are rambling on about, Noah." He scrunched his eyebrows together.
"Rachel, what Puck is trying to say is, who did you lose your virginity to?" Mercedes asked bluntly.
"Like I told Noah, I don't know what you are talking about. I'll have you know, my virginity is very much still intact." Rachel said before briskly walking away from the two.
"I should have known. She probably just bought a new musical or some shit." Puck muttered.
"Like I said before, no one would tap that." Mercedes laughed.

Rachel felt her throat constrict at the laughing words of Mercedes.

When Rachel returned home, she rushed to her bathroom. She opened the cabinet under the sink and removed the box where she hid the tools she used just the other day. She didn't hesitate today, she didn't really care about blood stains, she just cut.

Once.

Twice.

Three times. Deep gashes and angry red wounds now littered the area of her stomach.

Shivering from the adrenaline, she exhaled shakily. It took more every time and never lasted as long as she hoped.

She knew it was stupid, but she couldn't stop herself. She knew it would ruin the skin she had been keeping in flawless condition, but she wanted; no, she needed, to mar skin there. She liked having the reminder that she could rid herself of her pain, if only to replace it with physical pain. But still, she couldn't help the ache for a second of her sweet crimson bliss.

I really have no idea if this turned out good. My thoughts were all scattered, but I wanted to post it.
The title of the chapter, Bad Habit is taken from the song of the same name by The Dresden Dolls.