Warning: Contains adult material and mature themes. Read with discretion.

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, sadly.

I've always wondered when you're considered to be in the next year of school. Do you become a senior when junior year ends in June or when senior year starts in September? I've always thought that as soon as you graduate from junior year you're a senior because if you're not a junior and you're not a senior in that summer in between, what are you? But now I hope I'm wrong. Senior year is supposed to be one of the best years of your life, but my summer wasn't nearly as wonderful as everyone made it out to be. For many, many reasons.

People speculate what happened to make me become this way. Was it because Finn dumped me at the end of last year?

Please, I was upset about what I refer to as the "Finn incident" for about a week. Santana was right, I didn't want to get over it at first. I wanted to wallow in my own pity about no one loving me and blah blah blah. But then I realized who I am. I'm Quinn fucking Fabray. I wasn't just going to drown in self pity over a boy of all things. Especially Finn Hudson. I've been through far worse than that.

So what happened to the Quinn Fabray to make her dye her hair hot pink, get a Ryan Seacrest tramp stamp, a nose ring, start smoking, and drop out of society all together?

Life. The cruel, unforgiving nature of life happened. I know I've done some bad things in my life. I know that I was terrible person for most of high school. I know that, and I've tried to change. I've tried to be a good person. But I guess it wasn't enough. Karma wasn't satisfied and life, with his cruel ways, decided to throw me another obstacle. I've handled all the other obstacles I've been through with stride. Getting pregnant, getting kicked out of my house by my own parents, giving away my baby, cheating on my boyfriends, you name it. I've always jumped over the hurdle with grace and kept on running.

But this time I stumbled. I stumbled and I fell straight on my face.

I don't know why I did what I did. I mean I handled it before so why did the idea scare me so much that time? Why couldn't I fathom going through that again? Why was my mind so incapable of comprehending what happened that it led to making one of the biggest mistakes of my life that has had me drowning in regret and despair since?

Actually, I know why. I know exactly fucking why. It's because the situation wasn't like last time's. Last time, it was Puck. I could imagine having Puck's baby. I could imagine how the baby would turn out and I knew he or she would turn out just fine. I just knew.

But his? From the moment I found out I was carrying his child, I was filled with dread and misery. And I had that feeling again. But it was the opposite feeling. It was the feeling that this kid would have a terrible childhood, terrible upbringing, and a terrible life overall, and who was I to subject this kid to that kind of despair? I couldn't. I couldn't and I wouldn't.

Maybe I was biased. Maybe it was because every time I thought of the life inside me, I thought of him inside me. Maybe it was because I could never shake the memory of his meaty, sweaty hands roaming my body and his crippling weight making me immobile. Maybe it was because I could never forget the cold, hard concrete beneath me and his sinister, low voice whispering in my ear, his hot breath making me shiver in fear and his obscene words embedding themselves in my mind, as to be replayed in my nightmares for years to come. Maybe it was because when I thought of something growing inside me I felt him growing inside me while my anguished, desperate cries for help were muffled by that dirty rag.

A week passed. Three weeks passed. A month passed. A month and a half passed and I still couldn't get it out of my head. And my damaged, mentally exhausted brain thought the baby was the problem. And it only had one solution to make it stop. The voice, the fear, the nightmares. All of it. It thought it would all be cured if I just got rid of it. So I did it. I went to the clinic and voila. Baby gone. And guess what?

It didn't stop.

So, with a broken mind and a finally clear conscience repeating, "What the fuck did you do?" like a mantra in my still mentally exhausted mind, I went with plan B.

I changed every little thing about myself.

And it worked. With every piece of the old Quinn Fabray I chipped off, I felt better. The voice went away. The fear dramatically lessened. The nightmares became a rare occurrence. It was like if I made myself a completely new person, what I did wouldn't matter.

Sure, I still remember the terrible person Quinn Fabray used to be every once in a while when I light one up or meet with The Skanks, but she's fleeting. Every time I do something so un-Quinn Fabray like, she becomes more and more distant. And it's only a matter of time before the old her is completely gone, and the new me fully takes over.

And I can't wait for that day. The day when the girl who made all those wrong mistakes is gone, and the girl who is making all the right mistakes stays.

No more Glee Club, no more cheerleading, no more boyfriends. That's what led me to commit that inhumane act before. And I'll be damned if I let that happen again.

Look out McKinley High School. The old Quinn Fabray is gone, and the new one is here to stay.

Hello everyone. I know that this was quite odd and dark. I just got this idea in my head earlier today and could not get it out, so I wrote it. It was just a little "What if this happened" situation that I came up with, and I kind of like how it turned out, despite it being based upon a dark subject.

I'm not quite sure if I should continue this though. I think this could stay a one-shot and still make sense, but if enough people want me to make this an actual story I probably could make it work. Let me know if I should or not, and I might just make it happen.

Anyway, despite if you want this continued or not, thank you for reading. I hope you like my first ever Glee fan fiction, and get ready for a lot more to come.