Santana walked down the hallway at school, her head ducked down. She couldn't let them see it. She had her hair down, not in it's usual high pony, but nobody seemed to notice that. She walked quickly, trying to avoid anyone who might try and stop to talk to her. She had to make it to the bathroom, the makeup was wearing off. That's what she gets for buying cheap shit. Santana made it, and waited for all the girls in there to leave, before lifting her head, looking in the mirror. The black circle on her left eye was showing, as well as the bruise that went from her cheek bone, to her jawline. She pulled her makeup out of her bag, and got to work on her eye first. Soon enough it was covered fully. Now for her other bruise. She was about half done when Quinn walked in.

"Santana, what the hell did you do to your face?"

"Nothing."

She finished applying the cover up, and walked out. The sooner she walked away from Quinn, the better. Her frenemy would more than likely have more questions. Questions that Santana was not ready to answer, and probably would never be ready. Santana walked now, her head held high. She got to her locker,and pulled some hair from her face with a few bobby pins. She had every reason now to walk proud. You couldn't tell that she was covering the marks that showed her darkest secret.

Quinn, Puck, Rachel, Tina, Sam, and Brittany sat in the choir room, doing one of their all night study sessions for Puck, Sam, and Britt, who needed the most help. Santana was supposed to be there. After school, she ran into Quinn again, saying she had to run home first. Then she never showed. About a minute later, her phone buzzed.

"Okay, she texted me saying she's not coming. Now I can ask you guys this. What the hell is up with Santana?"

"Here we go, Loopy Quinn's in the house."

"Puck. I'm serious, I walked into the bathroom, and she was putting makeup on a huge bruise."

The group of teenagers went quiet.

"Quinn, while I admire your concern for Santana, that's extremely irrelevant to what's in front of us right now, which is history."

Quinn rolled her eyes at Rachel, and looked at the others.

"This is the girl from Lima Heights, she probably just got into a fight with some other people in that neighborhood. Chill, Quinn. She's tough, we all know that. You don't need to worry."

Back at Santana's house, things were anything except calm. The girl stood against the wall of the living room, her knees buckling. She didn't know what to do. Well, there was nothing that she could do. This had been going on since she was a young girl, but now that she was older, it got worse. Her father stood in front of her, spitting out insults, screaming right in her face. And why? Because she wasn't hope at exactly 4pm, like he wanted. Her mother, Maribel, just sat on the sofa, glass of wine in hand, watching as her husband got rough with their only child.

His hand collided with her cheek, and continued to for several more hits, until she tried to flinch away from him. Tears poured from her eyes. The moment she turned, his hands gripped her upper arms, leaving hand shaped bruises on her skin there.

"You fucking look at me when I'm speaking to you!"

Santana still adverted her gaze elsewhere, and tried to keep herself somewhat pulled together as her dad started getting more angry with her. Next thing she knew, she was being held by the neck, and slammed into the wall. She fell to the ground, her whole body trembling. Just because she had been through it before didn't ever make it any better.

"Pathetic fucking slut. You're a worthless little shit, you know that? No good for anything, I tell you."

"Papi..."

Santana's voice was weak and hoarse, shaking as she spoke. She wanted him to stop, but it wasn't something she could control. His foot collided with her stomach, causing her to cry out. That lead to another slap across the face for her, before he pointed to the stairs.

"Go to your room, NOW!"

He didn't have to tell her twice. Santana got up as best she could, and went to her room, closing and locking her bedroom door behind her. She sobbed into her pillow, kneeling on her bed. It hurt to lay down. She could feel her back bruising, and she now had a sharp pain in her stomach where he had kicked her. Santana was scared, and didn't want to be in the house right now.

"No Brittany, D-Day is not the time where everyone gets dick."

Tina, Quinn, and Rachel all shared glances of concern every time their blonde friend opened her mouth. The things Brittany could come up with were absurd.

"Oh.. Then what is it?"

"Brittany, we've been over this like, four times. Just read your text book, the rest of us need to move on."

"I wish Santana was here, she'd go over it again for me."

"Well, she's not. Can we keep going now? This test is going to kill all of us if we don't study."

Sam was getting impatient now too, just wanting to finish studying. He had a hard enough time with his dyslexia, he needed to study really hard if he was going to pass.

"Santana Marie Lopez, unlock the fucking door now!"

Shit. Here he comes again. She didn't know what else he'd possibly want to do to her. She rose from her bed, her hand on the giant welt on her stomach. Santana opened her bedroom door, and was smacked in the face with the smell of alcohol as her father spoke.

"You thought this was done for the night? I'm not finished with you yet. Bad girls deserve punishment."