Perhaps it was the way he treated her, like if he believe that beneath the mascara, the expensive clothes and all of her defenses, she was just a 15 year old, scared girl, a human being. Perhaps that was it, though it could only be the fact that he was just nice to everyone and she was seeing too much into it but she refused to believe it, she refused to believe that he was like everybody else.

She wanted to be loved

She would stay up late at night, sometimes she would go out of her room to walk over the house, the tips of her fingers caressing the walls; her eyes going back and forth and a terrible question in her mind. She would slide down to the floor and hug her knees close to her chest, her eyes closed and her breath coming out erratically. Panic taking over her.

Was this all?

Nana would come in the morning and put her back to sleep a little before school. Nana would tuck her in and mover her hair from her face, kissing her temple but deep down inside of her, she knew she was not Nana's first love, no, Nana's first love was her children.

She wanted to be the first at something.

She would walk through the halls of the school like if she owned the place bur she could slowly feel how she was losing herself and all because of the thing she hated and feared the most.

Some would say she hated it because she was bitter, others would say that she feared it because it was unknown to her and that it was okay to be scared but the cold hard truth was other.

On the contrary to the popular opinion she had a heart and she had lover and had been loved but she had too watched love on its lightest and darkest shades and she knew herself too well, she did and that's why she hated and feared it.

Deep down inside of her, she wanted someone to fix the unworking cuckoo clock she had for heart

She could laugh, she could spin until the dizziness took over, she could make mean and heartless remarks, she could blush and do the normal teenage things Jewel, Rita and Lory did but she was no fool.

She had to take her magic pill to laugh, she had to drink alcohol to spin, she had to look at herself in the mirror every time she was mean (because honestly, everyone seemed better than her these days), she had to pinch her cheeks in order to blush, she had to turn her emotions off to be a happy teenager.

The only thing she couldn't do was thinking of any other boy. She could not stop her eyes from following him on the brief moments she could catch a glimpse of him, what she could do about that boy was to think that someday he would walk up straight to her and not towards the Baker girl.

Aren't we all broken pretty things?

Well, whoever said that shit was a pathetic human being? You can't be broken, you just decide to be broken, that's why she is doing whatever it takes to keep her pieces together, she is not going to crumble to the floor and let everybody else step on her, she is still a Hummel no matter how fucked up she is. She is not going to show it, she would die first.

Which could happen if she kept going on like this

Her skin was turning thin as paper but perhaps she should point out that it was only on the area where she used to cut herself. Was this a sign of how fucked up she was? Or where these the thoughts coming out of a drugged mind? She didn't want to know, she wanted to forget and her wooden owl allowed her to forget.

But all the drug in this world won't save her from herself

The only thing she truly owned was no longer hers, she had given it to a man with no name, a human with no soul. Should she care?, should she be afraid?. She didn't longer know.

How could she know when Oliver was smiling at Bonnie Baker like if she was the sun and he just a blind man seeing the ir for the first time? (Yes, she was actually quoting Twilight; she had to blame Jewel for making her read them). How in the name of God could she care when he was holding her hand?.

Please Oliver, don't break my heart

She had whispered one night on the roof of her house but no one had listened.

No one ever did.

Alone, she was alone, actually now that she thought of it she had always been alone, alone and loney despite being always surrounded by people and it was so fucking cliché and God, how she hared cliché things. That's why she had hidden does thoughts years ago in the back of her mind, at the end of her closet, at the bottom of her wooden owl but now, now that Jewel was being brainwashed, Rita cuddling her baby and Lory off to being her usual pure and happy self, those same thoughts came and haunted her. She never thought she would be alone in the moment of her death, but now here she was. Alone. Falling down and alone. Drowning in the waters of death and alone, no hand to hold, no memorie to take with her, because she was right after all this time. Alone we are born, alone we have to die.

El mismo, por si mismo únicamente, eternamente uno, y solo. (Platón, Symposium)

Darkness.