Run. That's all I could think of in my hazy state. I had to get out of this house, away from here. I needed to. But I couldn't move. My legs were tied together and my feet wouldn't budge. My mouth was open but I couldn't make a sound. My arms were glued to my side. My whole body was ridged and tense, like I was expecting impact, because I was.

The knife grazed my face but the attacker didn't put any pressure on it. I moved my face away but then it cut in. The pain shot through my body and I felt a little blood trickle down my face but the attacker kept staring at me. I wanted to scream, scream at it asking why it won't just kill me, why it was keeping me alive. Again, they brushed the knife against my face, cutting the other side. They tilted their head to the side before lifting their fist and the next time I felt was the floor against my head and I was out cold.

When we woke up, there was a small pool of blood around my face. I looked around, and there were bodies on top of bodies, but they were all breathing. It had been an insane party last night, but I don't remember much of what happened during the party. I remember being tied to a chair, having the knife pressed against my face and cutting my skin.

I blinked away the memories, dismissing it as a stupid, drunk prank of some random kid at our high school. Pretty much every Glee kid, Warbler and McKinley kid was in attendance last night. All groups, nerds, jocks, vampire-like, emo-ish … etc. It was probably someone who had gone to their dark side or whatever. What matter was the cuts weren't deep enough to need surgery, just deep enough make a lot of blood to flow out of me.

I got up, to the clean the cuts and when I walked into the kitchen, she was hanging from the light, all bloody and scratched. Her clothes were ripped and her blond hair was soaked with blood. I blacked up against the wall, staring at her blank hazel eyes. She was dead. Her eyes were always the window to her thoughts, her moods, you could literally see what she was thinking and now, they were lifeless.

"Santana?" I heard Sebastian and Blaine call my name. They came into the kitchen and stopped cold. I couldn't take my eyes off the body until Blaine stepped in front of me, face hard as rock, took my by my shoulders and leading me out of the room and upstairs.

"Let Sebastian take care of this. He knows best, he was her brother." Blaine said gently to me. I still couldn't talk. There were no words to say, no words to describe the pain I was feeling. I want to throw something, at someone. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs. But I couldn't do anything. I had two cuts on my cheeks, which Blaine had treated, and a dead best friend downstairs.

For the first time, in a long, long time, I, Santana Lopez had no fucking clue what to do.