This is just something I wrote a while ago, and I thought I would share it with you guys. It's just a little drabble I guess, dealing with Santana's inner thoughts.
Warning: Implication of character death
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The snow falling heavily covering the streets in thick white blankets should have been enough to stop anyone from going outside on such a cold winter morning, but for Santana this is not the case. As she fights to hide her visible caramel coloured skin with a black beanie hat, scarf and a pair of gloves, she does her best to push the little voice of reason –the one that is telling her not to go outside – into the back of her mind.
It's as if the protective layers of clothing that she is wearing are non-existent because as soon as Santana steps outside, the cold air immediately attacks her, tearing through her clothing and nipping at her skin, which causes an involuntary shiver to rack through her entire body. Still, this doesn't discourage her and she continues to battle through the snow, keeping her head down and her arms wrapped around her waist in an attempt to protect herself.
The combination of the snow, cold air and wind make Santana feel numb and she's thankful for that because in her mind that's how she is supposed to feel and it's been so long since she's felt anything but that, that she thinks she may be incapable of portraying any other kind of emotion. That doesn't bother her in the slightest because she has become so distant with everyone in the course of the past six months that she no longer needs her emotions. She doesn't have to paint a smile on her face or laugh when someone tells a joke because there's no one there to do that anymore. She's pushed everyone so far away that she doesn't have to pretend to be ok and that alone takes a huge weight off her shoulders.
The streets are completely empty and all that can be heard is the crunching of the snow from beneath Santana's boots. It doesn't surprise her that there's no one outside at six o'clock on a December's morning because the sky is still charcoal grey and no one in their right mind would willing be up this early on a Saturday. Well, no one except from her and in her defence, her sleeping pattern has been inconsistent for month and in the past few days she's been waking up at four o'clock in the morning and has found it impossible to go back to sleep. Her whole life is crumbling before her. She needs help. She needs stability. She has heard it all before but the only person that can truly help her is no longer here.
Halfway through Santana's journey, the wind grows stronger and she has to fight harder than before to avoid being forced back. Despite the hat upon her head, the howling wind causes her chestnut brown hair to go wild and as it whips her in the face for what seems like the one hundredth time, she hastily rips it from her head and throws it to the ground. It's more of a nuisance than what it's worth and for a brief moment, Santana compares herself to the hat that she just left lying in the snow because that's what everyone did to her. When she became too much of a hassle they abandoned her, leaving her to deal with the heartbreak and loss on her own.
She shakes the thoughts out of her head, grimacing at them as she does so because they sound so ridiculous. Is she really comparing her life to a hat? It is ridiculous. She is ridiculous, but she can't find it within herself to care. She gave up caring a long time ago.
It's a good thing that she knows where she's going, even with her eyes covered by a mixture of her hair and snow because the weather doesn't back down and neither does Santana. She has always been a stubborn, argumentative and opinionated character and whilst most people's teenage years moulded them into a well-rounded person, hers did nothing but boost her ego and shorten the fuse on her fiery temper. She's nineteen now and instead of being the outgoing and energetic girl that she used to dream of being when she was younger, she's just a sad and lonely girl with no aspiration or motivation. She has no purpose anymore.
Her journey comes to a halt ten minutes later when she stops in front of a pair of large metal gates and she glares up at them, blaming them for trapping her happiness and preventing it from returning to her. In the back of her mind she knows that this, of course, is not the case, but over the past six months Santana has realised that it's easier to blame everyone else for her problems instead of being brave enough to accept the responsibility. She hates herself enough as it is already, she doesn't need another reason to add onto the list. The gates slowly creek open and the sound of them combined with the wailing of the wind make it seem as if she's starring in a disastrous horror film. She almost forces out a laugh at the thought but soon stops herself when she realises the truth that the comparison holds. In a matter of months, her once 'perfect life' has been turned completely upside down and since that day, she's had to fight against her daily demons in order to survive. However, she's trapped and there is nothing that she can do about it. She's trapped against her biggest demon and that demon is herself. It's the only one that she can't run away from. It's taking over her life and is slowly destroying her.
It's as if her body is like a robot that she has no control over because despite the paths and signs being completely covered in sheets of snow, Santana knows exactly what direction she's supposed to go in and she doesn't stop walking until she comes across a very special spot. She doesn't even need to wipe the snow off the top of the gravestone to make sure that it's the correct one because she's spent so much of her time here over the past six months, that it has become like a second home to her. It's the only thing that has remained as a constant in her life whilst the rest of it has spiralled out of control and she's thankful for that.
"Hey, B." She breathes out shakily as she falls to the ground on her knees, ignoring the way her jeans instantly absorb the wetness of the snow when they come into contact. "I was going to bring you a new bouquet of flowers but there's no shops open at six o'clock in the morning." She jokingly adds and for the first time in what seems like forever, laughter escapes from her lips, filling the silence surrounding her.
"H-How are you today?" Santana leans her back against the tombstone and closes her eyes to stop the tears from forming in her eyes. "I-I really miss you."
Santana knows that she shouldn't have come here on such a miserable day and that she should leave before she becomes more ill than she already is, but she can't find the strength within herself to do so. So instead she sits there talking to the winter morning, disregarding the fact that she can no longer feel her legs and hands or that she can't even form a sentence without chattering because when her soul mate disappeared from this world, she took a piece of Santana with her and with every second that Santana spends beside her gravestone, she can feel herself slowly begin to disappear too.