A/N: I am so sorry for what follows. I really needed to write a short tragedy based on one of my favorite songs and Santana was the one who fit best. There is a lot of pain and sadness. Seriously, Trigger Warning is legit.
Please review if you liked it or hated it. I just wrote this in a couple hours, so it might not be the best story I have up. I'm serious, if it's bad, I want to know. Thanks for reading :)
The song - Somebody's Baby by Jon Foreman. It's really good. Listen before, after, or during.
Santana Lopez was the only person missing from the Monday Troubletones meeting. Everyone noticed, but no one worried. The only one that thought to even text Santana was Brittany, but she never got a reply.
Will Schuester looked into the classroom that the Troubletones was using as a mock choir room and sighed. He watched the girls for a moment and could feel the tears well up in his eyes. He needed to deal with this. He clutched the notes he had in his hand tighter and staved off his tears and slowly entered the room, knocking as he opened the door.
"Shelby?" He asked quietly.
"Will, Hi! No checking out the competition here," she smiled and walked towards the door. As she approached him, she could see something was wrong. "Will?"
"I… we need everyone in the auditorium. The New Directions are already in there."
Shelby had no idea what was going on, but she didn't feel like she should question whatever Will was planning. She turned to her girls and kept her voice light.
"Alright girls, change of plans! We are meeting with the New Directions in the auditorium."
With a few groans and mumbles from the girls, they reluctantly filed out of the room and headed to the auditorium. Shelby didn't move until all the girls were gone, then she turned to Will just in time to see tears begin to fall.
"Will? What's going on?" Concern grew in her voice.
Will tried to remember how to speak but his voice didn't seem to work. He took a deep breath and tried again.
"Um…San…Santana's dead."
Friday: Three days before.
Santana had a good argument as to why Friday was the worst day of her life. She had driven home as slow as she possibly could. She hated herself for being a lesbian, she hated Finn for outing her in the hallway, and she hated that politician for outing her to all of Ohio. She wasn't ready to tell her parents. She had only just come to terms with her sexual orientation, she didn't know how to tell them and she didn't know how they'd react.
She reached her driveway and pulled her car in behind her father's. She turned off the car and sat for a moment, gathering her courage. Finally, she saw her mother look out of the kitchen window, probably wondering who was out there. Santana sighed and got out of the car, walking slowly to the front door.
"Santana, baby, how was school?" Her mother asked as soon as the door was closed.
"It was okay. How was your day?"
"Good, good. Dinner is in half an hour, okay? Abuela is joining us too. Go wash up."
"Sounds good mama." Santana gave a weak smile and walked towards her bedroom. She needed to shower and get out of her cheerios uniform. At least if her grandma was coming, she could tell them all at once and get this over with.
Dinner would have been pleasant if Santana had been able to actually pay attention to what was happening. Her mind was too preoccupied and she couldn't really focus on eating or joining in on her parents' conversation. After picking at her food for most of the meal, her mother finally drew attention to her.
"Santana, what is wrong with you tonight? You've barely eaten a thing."
Santana looked up to her parents and set her fork down on the table.
"I… I need to talk to you guys about something."
"Anything baby, you know that." Her abuela said before taking another bite of pasta.
"Well… there's going to be an ad next week on the TV that mentions… mentions that I'm gay." Santana tried to gage the reactions of her family, but just received shocked stares from everyone.
"You're what now?" Her father asked, putting down his fork and turning towards her.
"I… love girls…the way I'm supposed to love boys…"
Her grandmother dropped her fork down on her plate in disgust and crossed her arms over her chest. "You have no right to make us feel uncomfortable. Secrets are secrets for a reason Santana."
Santana felt tears come to the corner of her eyes, threatening to fall. She slowly explained why her secret was coming out and how she had no choice in the matter.
"Go to your room now." Her father grunted. "This conversation isn't over."
Santana nodded and stood up, glancing at her mother before going to her room, hoping they weren't going to kick her out.
It was three hours later when her bedroom door opened. She was laying in her bed, listening to a playlist she and Brittany had made together over the summer.
"Daddy, I'm sorry about-" Santana began, removing her headphones when she saw her father standing in her doorway.
"Be quiet girl. You aren't a lesbian. And if you are, I'm going to fix that for you." His tone was harsh and raspy, Santana could feel a lump in her throat, and she suddenly knew he was drunk now.
"I-" She was cut off as she watched her father enter her room and close the door behind him. She slowly got off her bed and backed towards the corner of her room.
"Get back on the bed you stupid slut. We're going to fix this and then you're going to apologize to your mother and your abuela for making them cry."
Santana began to cry, knowing there was no way she could escape her own father. She knew everyone thought of her as a tough bitch, but at home, she had always been obedient to her parents, wanting to make them happy.
She watched her father get closer to her and she just started shaking her head back and forth. She was suddenly shoved back onto her bed and her father was instantly on top of her. He pulled her sweatpants off her and lowered his own jeans. She tried to kick him as he undressed her lower half, but it was useless. He overpowered her and pinned her to the bed.
Santana was openly sobbing as her father raped her, ignoring her pleas to stop.
"I'm… sorry papa. Please… don't."
After half an hour, her dad finished inside her and left the room without saying anything to her.
Santana didn't move, she just cried herself to sleep, hoping to never wake up.
The next morning, Santana woke up sore. She opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling, letting herself cry again. She had had sex with a lot of men, but she had never been raped, and to be raped by her own father was more than she wanted to process.
She grabbed her phone off her desk and stared at the screen. It was 10 AM and she had a text from Brittany, something about Lord Tubbington. She tossed the phone back down on her bed and got up, making her way to the bathroom. She spent the next hour and a half in the shower, crying and scrubbing every part of her body.
She was glad it was Saturday. Her father was at work and her mother was out with abuela at their Saturday book club. Not that they actually read anything there, it was mainly a weekly afternoon meeting for the Mexican community women to gossip about each other.
After her shower, Santana threw on jeans and a t-shirt and left the house. She had nothing to do, but she couldn't stand to be there anymore. She wasn't sure what she should even do anymore. She could call Brit and hang out with her, but that just might make things worse for her. She wasn't allowed to be a lesbian anymore and so she would have to get over Brittany. She drove around until her stomach started growling and she realized she hadn't eaten anything. She decided she needed someone to take her mind off what had happened. She called Puck, hoping he'd actually answer.
"Puckerman here, what's up 'Tana?"
Santana smiled slightly at her nickname. "Hungry and bored Puckerman, wanna get some pizza?"
Puck was slightly confused, he and Santana hadn't really hung out in a while, but he agreed, having nothing better to do anyway. "Sure, come on over, I'll order the pizza now."
Santana hung up with him and drove towards his house, hoping he wouldn't ask too many questions.
When she reached his house, she walked up and knocked, waiting for him to let her in.
"Hey, pizza should be here in like half an hour. Wanna start a movie or something?"
"Sure, sounds fine to me."
The two started watching The Fast and the Furious, only pausing for a moment when the pizzas arrived. All in all, it was a good afternoon and Santana was able to forget about the drastic twist her life had taken.
After the food was finished and the movie was over, Puck turned to Santana and watched her. She was watching the credits roll on the screen, almost desperate for the movie to continue.
"'Tana, is everything alright… Don't get me wrong, I like hanging out with you, but I know you… and this isn't you."
"I'm fine Puck… Just, Brit was busy and I didn't feel like hanging out at home alone like a loser," she replied with a little less bitch in her tone than normal.
"Alright…" Puck agreed, not quite believing her. "So you wanna watch the sequel or…"
"Yeah, whatever." Santana really didn't want to leave, but she didn't want to talk. If Puck asked too many questions, she feared she just might break down and tell him what happened.
As they watched the second movie, Puck kept glancing over at Santana and watching her. She seemed to be watching the movie too intensely, like there was some secret code in the movie that she had to figure out. He knew there was something wrong, but he also knew he couldn't push her about it.
It was nearing the end of the movie when Puck's phone started ringing. Santana barely pays attention as Puck answers and starts speaking cryptically to whoever is on the other end of the line.
Puck sighs as he tries not to let Santana figure out that it's Shelby on the phone. He looks at her and notices how she doesn't even seem to register that he's on the phone. He agrees to go over to Shelby's later for dinner and to hang out with her and Beth.
He returns to the couch and just stares at Santana for a couple minutes.
"Seriously Puck, staring at me like that won't make me rip my clothes off for you."
Puck gives a sarcastic laugh. "Very funny. But seriously, what is wrong Santana? This has been really weird."
"Fine. Sorry for making your afternoon awkward Puckerman," she said with a huff. She stood up and gathered her coat and purse. "Thanks for hanging out. I'll see you on Monday."
Puck sat on the couch in confusion and watched her leave. He was suspicious before, but now he was worried. He made a mental note to text her later and make sure she's okay. Right now he had to get ready to go see Shelby.
Santana knew she overreacted. She was just on edge and she didn't want to go home. She looked at the clock on her car radio and knew she had 2 hours until her dad would usually get home from work. She quickly drove home, knowing if she could get home before anyone else, she could get some alcohol from the kitchen and spend her night getting drunk.
So that's what she did. She opened the alcohol cabinet when she got home and pulled out the half full bottle of rum.
She walked back to her room and sat on her floor, drinking until the memory of last night was pushed to the back of her mind. She listened to her ipod and continued to drink until she couldn't see straight.
She felt her phone vibrate in her pocket right after she finished the bottle of rum.
"Hey, what are you up to? Want to hit up a party or something?" –Puck
It took Santana five minutes to actually read the message. She scoffed when she finally figured out what it said and figured out her reply.
"Nothane. No pary. Im fin"
Puck stared at his screen. Was Santana drunk? At 8 PM?
"Santana are you drunk? What's going on?"
"Mayb just leav me lone"
Santana threw her phone across the room, watching it land by her backpack. She looked at the empty bottle next to her leg and cried. She didn't want the alcohol to be gone. She crawled into bed, hoping it might refill itself by tomorrow.
Santana was woken up around midnight, feeling movement on her bed and a pressure on her hips. She didn't want to open her eyes, knowing what she would see if she did. She let tears fall from her eyes and she knew what was happening.
"Please… not again-" She begged quietly.
"You made me do this. We're gonna do this till you're normal again." Her father responded flatly.
Santana didn't move for the entire 45 minutes that her father raped her for the second time. When he finished and left, Santana sat up and went to the garbage can at her desk and vomited everything in her stomach. She then curled up in the corner where she had gotten drunk and cried herself back to sleep.
Santana woke up on Sunday with a massive headache and bruises on her inner thighs. She walked into the bathroom and promptly threw up into the toilet. After she had nothing left, she turned the shower on and stripped down, not even waiting for the water to reach a certain temperature, she just got in and stood under the water for an hour, feeling the water go from cold to hot and back to cold again when the heat ran out.
Finally, she got out and stared at herself in the mirror. She didn't know what to do anymore. She couldn't force her mind back into the badass bitch personality that she had. She just felt broken and hollow. She wrapped a towel around herself and went back to her room. She put on a pair of McKinley Cheerios sweatpants and a t-shirt. Looking around her room, she couldn't stand to be there anymore. She grabbed her phone and saw there were 3 missed calls and 3 texts from Puck, 4 missed calls from Brit and a text message, and even one missed call from Mr. Schue. Her phone was going to die, but she would charge it in the car. She put in in her pocket and then went into the kitchen. She contemplated eating something but didn't think she would be able to keep anything down. She looked around the kitchen and her eyes went straight to the liquor cabinet. Without thinking, she opened the cabinet and grabbed the bottle of tequila that was ¾ full. She stuck it in her purse, grabbed her keys and left the house.
She plugged her phone into the charger and drove off, not knowing where she was going, yet again.
Finally, she decided she needed to get off the road. She drove to the forest preserve at the edge of Lima. She had liked it there as a kid. She hated camping and hiking, but she did like being outside around the trees, cliffs, and horizons.
She parked near the picnic table at the top of the cliff and turned off her car. The park was made out of an old mining quarry. The trees were planted and paths paved so that it looked like a pathetic, wanna-be, Grand Canyon.
Grabbing her phone off the charger, she got out and sat at the table, finally reading the texts from Puck.
-"Santana, call me."
-"Seriously, something is up and I know it"
-"Happy Birthday by the way."
Santana stared at the last text message. Her birthday? She exited the message and checked the date on her phone's home screen. So it was. Today was her birthday, strangely enough, and she completely forgot. She began to cry. Her father raping her around midnight was probably to be considered her birthday present.
She continued to cry as she opened Brittany's text message.
"Happy Birthday Santana! Puck says something is wrong, but it's your birthday, so everything should be awesome, okay? Call me later so I can give you your birthday present!"
Santana put her phone down on the table and grabbed the tequila out of her purse. She started drinking and laughed at herself for being so pathetic. But it's my birthday and I can cry if I want to, she thought to herself. She picked her phone back up and dialed her voicemail. Even with all the missed calls, there were only 2 voicemails.
"Tana, it's Puck. Happy Birthday. I'm sorry if I did something yesterday to upset you. I'm just worried. I told Brit and Mr. Schue that I think something's wrong. If there isn't, then sorry, but seriously, I know you and I know when you're lying. Call me back, okay?"
Santana deleted the message and the next one began.
"Santana, it's Mr. Schue. I hope you're doing okay. I know this weekend was probably stressful with all that happened on Friday. Call me if you need anything at all, otherwise I'll see you tomorrow."
She deleted Mr. Schue's message too and took another drink before tossing her phone into her purse. She wouldn't call any of them. She wouldn't text any of them. She couldn't. There was nothing they could do. The damage was already done. She disappointed her family and was punished for it. And from what her father said, she would continue to be punished until she was fixed. She didn't ever want to go home again. She continued to drink and cry, reliving the memory of her father on top of her, forcing himself inside her. After the tequila was almost gone, Santana stared at the cliff and knew what she needed to do.
She went back to her car and pulled out a notebook and pen from the mess in the back seat. She then sat back down at the table and wrote out the notes to whoever would find her and to people that deserved an explanation.
When the notes were finished, Santana drank the rest of the tequila before putting her purse and the notebook in the front seat of the car. She took out her phone and texted Puck and Brittany.
"Thanks, I love you, ya know."
She walked to the edge of the cliff and stared at the grey rocky bottom. She let out a small sob and then dialed 911.
"911, what's your emergency?"
"There's a body… a girl… at the bottom of the Lima quarry."
She then dropped the phone and watched it fall 25 feet down. Santana Lopez then stepped off the edge, with no one around to watch her fall.
Monday
"Santana's what?" Shelby stared at Will in disbelief.
"She…she killed herself yesterday." Will let out a sob and Shelby embraced him as she began to cry as well.
The two teachers stood for another moment, until they remembered that there was a group of teens in the auditorium that they needed to break the news to. The police had only informed Principal Figgins two hours ago and he was going to make an announcement at last period. That would be in two more hours.
He and Shelby composed themselves as best they could, but it was still obvious that part of each of them had broken slightly. Emma met them outside the door to the auditorium. Will took a deep breath as he entered the auditorium and Shelby sighed as she could hear the kids talking about everything from math homework to sectionals songs to who the best superhero was.
As the teachers entered, the group seemed to quiet a little, but there were still some side conversations. They all sat on the floor of the stage and wondered what was happening.
"Guys," Will tried to say firmly. His voice betrayed him though as his words came out shaky. "Everyone… quiet down."
Once Will had the teens' attention, they all began to see something was wrong. Mr. Schue looked hopeless and small. Shelby looked shocked and fearful. Emma looked nervous and worried.
There was a moment of silence before Rachel spoke up. "Mr. Schue, what's going on? Why are we all here together?"
Will cleared his throat and clutched the papers in his hand tighter. "There's… no easy way to tell you guys this…"
No one knew what was happening. The worst thought on their mind was that maybe they were all disqualified from sectionals or something.
"Santana…" Will began to cry again as he spoke her name. Emma squeezed his shoulder to show support. "Santana killed herself yesterday."
Everyone stared at Mr. Schue, not willing to believe something that terrible. "That can't be right Mr. Schue," Brittany countered. "Yesterday was her birthday. You don't die on your birthday, everyone knows that."
When Mr. Schue didn't reply to her, she looked around at everyone else. "Right? … she's fine…"
Puck cringed as Brittany said fine. He could only remember Santana freaking out and how she kept saying she was fine. He began to cry and he pulled Brittany into a tight hug.
As soon as Puck began to cry, no one else could stop themselves. Some just stared in shock, but everyone else started crying and hugging each other.
After 10 minutes, most began to quiet down and Finn moved from staring at the ground to staring at Mr. Schue.
"What… what happened, Mr. Schue?" He asked quietly. It was probably his fault. He had made the comment that forced her to come out when she wasn't ready.
Will looked around at the group and then at the notes in his hand. There were four in total: Brittany's, Quinn's, Puck's, and one for Mr. Schue to read to everyone.
He swallowed and closed his eyes for a moment before speaking.
"I have a note from her here… It's very… hard… to read. She says some things that may be hard for you all to hear. If anyone needs me to stop reading or needs to leave, just say so…"
There were a couple nods from the group and Will began.
"You're reading this because I'm no longer there to be the stable bitch that you've all grown to know and love. I'm not going to say I'm sorry because you can't be sorry when you're dead. You don't have to be anything when you're dead. You just get to be left alone. I guess I'm gonna try to be less of a bitch for a minute here to explain to you guys that this isn't your fault. Not even you Finn. I mean, maybe slightly, but I think this would have all happened even if y'all hadn't forced me out of the closet. But no, it doesn't matter. It's not like I even have a closet to go back to anymore. I mean, technically I do. My parents didn't kick me out… But I can't go back there. I won't go back there… Sorry… a bottle of tequila doesn't exactly help you write out your thoughts really clearly.
Anyway, apparently today is my birthday, and the gift I'm giving my parents is that they now don't have to worry about fixing my lesbian-ness. The gift I'm giving all of you is now you don't have to worry about me being a bitch, and the gift I'm giving myself is that I never have to go back to that house. But mainly this is for me. I am sorry about yesterday Puck. I'm grateful you hung out with me and were worried. You obviously had a reason to be worried. I think I would have been okay if I hadn't gone home that night. I shouldn't have snapped at you like I did. I just couldn't tell you what happened. I couldn't answer your questions because then I'd tell you everything… But then I went home. I didn't think he'd do it again. I thought once he sobered up, he'd realize that he raped his daughter and he wouldn't do it again-"
Will stopped reading as Puck ran to the side of the stage and vomited into the garbage can. He continued to cry and Finn went over, placing a hand on Puck's back. Puck vomited another time before stabilizing himself and walking back over to the group.
"I don't need to keep-" Will tried to state.
"Yes, you do. You need to keep reading." Puck replied, his voice raspy and choked up.
Will nodded and then glanced at everyone else to see how they were handling it. Everyone was crying again, but they all needed a conclusion.
"But I woke up… on my birthday… to him inside me… again. I don't know why I'm telling you all this. It's probably too much. I'm sorry about this. You'll all need therapy now won't you?
The point is that I told my mom and dad and grandma at dinner on Friday about being gay and about the ad that was going to be playing next week. I haven't seen my mama or grandma since then. I don't know where they went, but dad came into my room later that night and said he was going to fix me because no daughter of his is going to be a lesbian.
So when you texted me Saturday night, I was drunk. I got drunk so that I would be able to sleep. But then it happened again and he said it would keep happening until I was 'fixed'. So you see, I can't go back there. I just want to die… everything hurts. My body, my heart, my brain… nothing makes sense. I thought my parents loved me. I really really did. I was their baby. I was their only baby, but they won't care now. They'll be glad that I'm not around to disappoint them anymore. My whole body feels heavy, and maybe when I fall off the edge it won't feel so bad anymore.
Santana"
Will looked at the group of emotionally unstable teens and didn't know what to do anymore. He should have done more when Puck called him and said he was worried about Santana. He knew so many people had failed this girl and now she was gone. He looked at the other 3 notes in his hand. He then looked to Emma and Shelby.
"Quinn... Brittany... Puck... Can you three come with me. Emma, can you..." He was glad she was there and hoped she would do a better job than he did.
He led the three into the choir room and gave them their individual notes. "Santana wrote each of you guys private notes. I didn't think it would be good to hand them to you with others around. It's best they don't know these exist."
Puck nodded for all three of them and they took their notes. Sitting in the front row together as they read the last thing Santana would ever say to them. They all cried and hugged each other as they finished reading, knowing she was still part of them and they would never be the same.
