The loud bang. The screams. The smell of her blood. Her limp body falling into my arms. Her brown hair strewn across her face. The light leaving her beautiful brown eyes. Her lips parting for her last breath. Her black dress sodden with blood. My white shirt covered in her blood. How could this happen? We were finally at a good place her parents had given me permission to marry her. My parents loved and adored her. Her acting career was taking off my paintings were becoming more popular. The media was portraying us in a positive light. She had just said yes. That was the night my world ended. And my Rachel was no more. The agonizing ambulance ride.

I kept saying "Rachel don't you leave me here! Don't leave me here alone. Please Rach please wake up. Please." I cried as I held her hand gently. I didn't want to hold it too hard because she always said when I was sad or nervous I held her hand too hard and it hurt and I didn't want to hurt her. I didn't want to blink in case she looked at me and my eyes were closed. I couldn't see clearly because of my stupid tears. I tried to wipe them away but I just got blood all over my face. The paramedics were pulling me away and pulled out the shock things. I knew that wasn't good they only did that when people's heart stopped beating. But her heart couldn't have stopped. I love her and my heart was still beating.

I remember we were by the lake and she put her hand over my chest and said "as long as your heart beats mine will too."

"Clear!" A paramedic yells as she shocks the love of my life. Rachel's chest volts off the stretcher.

"No! Stop! You're hurting her! Rachel! Rachel!" I screamed I tried to get the other paramedic to let go of me so I could tell her that everything was going to be alright and that I wouldn't let them hurt her again.

"Clear!" She volts off the table again.

"Stop it! You'll kill her! Stop don't touch her!" I screamed at the top if my lungs I was hitting the man restraining me trying desperately to get to Rachel. The heart monitor beeps a steady beep there's a flat line on the screen. I froze. The paramedics looked at each other then at me.

"Time of death 11:20 pm"

I felt time stop I felt like a hole was punched through my chest. I stopped struggling.

"No! She's not dead! Do it again! You have to try again! She's not dead!" I'm shouting again. I started thrashing trying to get the man to let go of me. But he held on tighter.

"Calm down kid she's gone. She's gone." I stopped moving and crying I just sat there limp and tired.

The ambulance stopped and they pulled Rachel out. She was so pale she looked cold I wish I had my jacket to cover her. What happened next is a blur for me. I was in a hospital my parents were hugging me and saying how sorry they were. I hate it when people say that they are sorry when someone dies because unless they killed them they have no reason to be sorry. And if they did kill them they aren't sorry they are just saying it to get out on parole. And her family was in a corner.

Her daddy kept saying "my baby! My baby!" Her dad was trying to be strong but he was crying as well. Her sister Lisa wasn't saying anything she just sat there with her head in her hands. I just wanted to go home and see Rachel. She wasn't in that body bag that was a stunt double like they used in her movies. My Rachel was at out apartment waiting for me in her favorite chair. She was probably reading a book she loves books. That's something we both love. She loved laying her head on my chest and reading or she loved when I read to her. She said I had great expression. Then I would kiss her nose and she'd giggle and tell me she loves me. That's where she was and she needed me to come back to her so we could read.

"Quinn? Quinn!" My mother was shaking me.

"What?" I didn't want to answer her or talk to her I just wanted to go home and see Rachel.

"Do you want to stay with us tonight? If you aren't up to staying in your apartment it's ok it's perfectly ok." My mom's a shrink and I hate it when she tries to analyze me and "fix me." I had enough fixing I spent majority of my teenage years being fixed. But Rachel said that it was ok if I'm broken. She said everyone is broken in their own way some just hide it better than others.

"I'm fine mom. I just wanna go home." I didn't tell her about Rachel being at home because they wouldn't believe me and they'd send me away again. To a place with white walls and people asking how you're feeling all the damn time. I pushed my hand through my dirty blonde hair. I was sweating like crazy. I looked at my hands they were trembling and covered in dry blood. I needed to go home and shower and change Rach hates the sight of blood she freaks out when gives blood for the blood bank but she does it anyway because she loves helping people. There were people outside pictures were being taken. Loud shouting pushing outside the window.

"I need to go home." I said my voice was shaking."

"You shouldn't be driving Quinn not like this." My father sounded concerned for once. He's an art professor and artist one of the best in the nation apparently. And he never gave a crap about me. Why was he suddenly so damn concerned with my well being.

"I'm fine dad." I said a little harsher than I meant to. "I'll call a cab." I didn't say anything else to anyone. I walked out and the questions started.

"Quinn how do you feel about Rachel's death?"

"Quinn who do you think did this?"

"Quinn do you plan to look for her killer?"

It was too much I felt tears in my eyes again and I couldn't see because of all the flashing lights. I felt like I was going to spew. I felt like I was going to pass out. I was dizzy my head was swimming I just wanted to lay down with Rachel and feel her warm breath on my chest.

I felt someone pulling me along. "Give the girl some room! Let her be! She just lost her girlfriend for Christ sake!" I know that voice it's my adopted sister Santana. She's pulling me toward her car. "Come on leave her the hell alone!" she pushes me into the car and closes the door. She gets in and tears off.

"Thanks San" I said my mouth is dry and my voice is horse.

She nods "Q are you sure you want to go back to your apartment? I mean you can stay with me and Brit she won't mind. It's totally ok."

I nodded "can I stay with you?"

"Sure Q let me call and tell B we are on our way." She pushed some buttons on the radio in her car and I heard ringing.

"Brit? Hey it's me I'm just calling to say that Q's gonna stay with us for a little while ok?"

"Oh of course honey, should I make her something to eat? We have lots of Arizona tea I know you both like that."

Santana looked back at me, "no I don't think she can eat right now she looks kinda pale."

"Of course sweetie see you when you get here love you."

"I love you too baby."

Santana pushed a button and the call ended. I looked at Santana she is the exact opposite of me. She has wavy black hair creamy mocha colored skin and piercing brown eyes that make girls swoon. She's got the build of a soccer player she played in high school but refused to play at Berkeley because she couldn't stand losing. So she played rugby. She was the golden child, top marks in high school, got into a university right after her senior year and was on track to graduate and go to law school. She always had a beautiful girlfriend to bring home for the holidays. She was the child my parents bragged about. She was the one that everyone talked to at family functions. The one my dad clapped on the shoulder and said " that's my girl!" The one my mother told all her friends about. She was in a sorority, had the fiancée and my parents support.

I...I was the black sheep. I was tall and skinny. I had pale skin and dirty blonde hair that covered part of my face. I graduated high school as an average student because I simply stopped caring. I was the one that was whispered about at family gatherings.

"Oh that's Quinn she had that horrible break down."

"Oh poor baby."

I was always considered the weak one. I never stood up for myself. Santana was always the one who fought off the bullies for me. Spoke to my parents for me. I was an art person my parents hated my music and drawings they called them emo and dark. They really weren't. Emo was a word that followed me all through high school. And freak because of my genitalia aka my penis. I was often panted in gym class by Hilary just to humiliate me. It seemed like it was her favorite thing to do.

"Hey look it's the emo freak let's give her something to be emo about!" And she would get two jocks to hold me still as she punched my stomach, kicked my crotch, hit my face and bust my lip. I didn't do anything to defend myself I just closed my eyes and waited for it to be over. My sophomore year in high school my parents sent me away to "get some help." After a particularly brutal beating courtesy of Hilary the head cheerleader. I didn't want the help and didn't care that I was getting sent away. The staff told me to come to group sessions so I did I didn't want to listen to drugged up kids talk about LSD and all that. So I sat quietly and said nothing. I talked when I was asked a question ate when food was given. Read what I could took the stupid pills they shoved down my throat. Never caused any trouble told the shrinks what they wanted to hear. And finally I was released. Then there was the outpatient program which everyone must complete. More people talking me listening and barely talking. More pills, computers, more shrinks these ones actually made me talk and my parents too. I hated it but I could go home at the end of the day. And when I went back to school my junior year everyone was talking about how I was crazy and psycho. I didn't care it's not like I had friends anyway. But then Rachel Berry came along. She was in my A.P. literature class. And the only open seat was next to me. So she sat there and actually smiled at me. And for The first time in a long time I smiled back. She asked me about the school and what I was reading. I said The Outsiders. She asked who my favorite character was I said Pony boy. She said she loves that book and her favorite was soda pop. That's how we became friends. I talked to her about books and eventually music. One day we were laying under a tree by the lunch tables and Hilary and some hot shot cheerleaders came over.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing with the emo freak here?" I looked at Rachel I was scared I didn't want to get beaten up in front of her she'd never talk to me again.

"Her name is Quinn." She responded coolly.

"Quinn isn't that some kinda term for faggot!"

I was mad now I wasn't scared anymore. I wasn't a gay guy... but one time a gay guy stuck up for me and got the crap beaten put of him by the hockey team. He had to transfer schools.

I stood up in front of Rachel. "Don't use that word."

"What are you gonna do about it? Faggot!" She said pushing me I fell a little but got up and punched her square in the face. I think I broke her nose.

"I said don't use that word!" I was mad now all those years of taking their bullshit hit me and I was so mad I could have crushed a boulder.

The cheerleader fell backward and I knew the look in the other's eyes. I grabbed Rachel's hand and ran I had all that mattered to me my iPod, my phone my wallet, and her. And she had her bag. I ran she ran with me she was just as fast we skidded to a stop in front of the library and ran inside. The librarian liked me because I came in there a lot and read books few students did that.

"What about your stuff?" Rachel whispered.

"I have all that matters right here." I said looking into her beautiful brown eyes and smiled. She smiled back and I don't know who moved first but we kissed her arms were around my neck and my arms were around her waist. I felt like I was floating in the clouds fireworks went off in my head. I didn't know if she felt the same but when we broke for air she was smiling at me.

"I've never felt like this before."

"Like what?" I asked nervous that I was a bad kisser.

"Like I saw...fireworks."

I smiled bigger than I had ever smiled. And that's how I started dating Rachel Barbra Berry.