'Rachel Berry, you are a freak.'
The words ran through her mind as she stood in front of the mirror, in what had become her nightly routine.
'No one will ever want you.'
She shook her head, tears stinging her eyes, threatening to fall.
'You have no talent.'
She shook her head again, more vigorously this time. She reached into the black box on her dresser and pulled out the silver blade. It shone in the moonlight flooding through her bedroom window.
'This is the only way.' She murmured.
She pressed the blade to her skin, wincing slightly as she reopened old cuts. There was no use pretending anymore. She was worth nothing; each time she pressed the blade to her tanned skin it validated the line of insults running through her head. It punished her for being the way that she was. Not good enough.
She began to feel light headed, watching the blood trail down her body. she felt weightless, high...perfect, though only for a moment. She ignored all else, falling to the ground and letting her eyes droop heavily.
Only one name went through her mind before everything went black, and her eyes fluttered closed.
Quinn Fabray.