AU: Many years ago, Shelby Corcoran married, and had three boys. Later, she decided to have a baby girl of her own. The baby girl she wanted to call Elizabeth (like Leezl from the Sound of Music) died five minutes after being born. Eleven years later, teaching middle school was her natural way of helping kids, that is, until a girl named Rachel Berry shows up.

The snow falls as I hustle through the graveyard. I pull my blue cloak so that it wraps around me, but it does not help stop the cold from tingling into my bones. The cold wind blowing causes my eyes to water, even though I am already holding back tears. I sniffle and continue moving. My sneakers make tracks in the fresh white snow, and the snow soaks through my socks to my feet.

It's sometime around three in the morning, and I really couldn't give a care if someone tried to stop me. I didn't need people to stare at me while I visited my long lost soul. This is the only time that I can see who I lost so many years ago. I never really got to know them, but they were a part of me, a part that will never ever die. I stumble upon the rock. It is a simple rock, big and black, but it is big enough to hide something. I put it there eleven years ago. On the ground, I had scratched in the picture of a rose eleven years ago. Somehow the scratch in the dirt had stayed there. Just like the scars did.

There is no grave.

I proceed to put a single rose on the marking. I do this every year, but my roses always seem to disappear. Maybe she is collecting them in the afterlife, from the mother she never knew. Maybe she's watching me... I guess I will never know.

I wake up to silence. My sheets have a tingle of cold, and the other side of the bed is empty. I toss and turn for some time, hoping to at least claim a full hour of sleep for my night.

Several hours later, I am greeted by the annoying buzz of my alarm clock. Turning around, I bang my hand onto the alarm clock until it shuts up then wrap myself into the blankets and shove a pillow on top of my head. Five minutes later, the alarm clock goes off again. It wails and wails in a non stop whine of beeps. I know what that means. It's the first day of school. It is the date that everybody dreads. I have been going to the first day of school ever since I was 6. 37 years later, I still was. Okay, so that sounds terribly wrong. I'm a middle school teacher, that's all.

When I was in middle school, I went to a school where the teachers treated the students like their best friends. It was the seventies, everyone had tie dye shirts and puffed hair. I had one teacher, Mrs. Walsh, who taught me that blood means nothing; your family is the people that care about you. Mrs. Walsh was a six foot tall boulder with a soft voice and a very thin frame. People often made fun of her blue hair, but everyone respected her. I myself did not have a personal problem with my family. I was the youngest of four girls and they all loved me because I was the baby. My parents would sometimes fight, but it was the kind of fighting that would resolve in an hour and then the two would be back to loving each other. However, there was a girl who went to school with me named Jenny who had abusive parents. Mrs. Walsh took her under her wing and they really bonded. Things at home for Jenny got really hard, her parents got a divorce and her father began abusing her. There were only two people that knew about this, Mrs. Walsh and myself. Jenny was my best friend, and of course I did not want anything bad to happen to her. We were both so afraid that she would be put in a foster family by social services. Then Mrs. Walsh adopted her. Every time I think back to that day, it makes me smile. I remember it like it was yesterday.

Shelby and Jenny walked down the hallway of McKinley Middle School. Shelby was humming a tune, skipping in her choir dress because of the choir competition later that day. Shelby's long brown hair went halfway down her back, falling into loose curls. Jenny was much more worried than Shelby was, she didn't have to worry whether or not she was going to get hit or worse later that day, whether or not she was going to eat, whether or not she was going to make it through the night at all.

"What do you think this is about?" Shelby stopped humming and looked over at Jenny.

"I have no idea. I don't think this is anything bad." The two girls found their way to the principal's office, where the principal, Mr. Simmons and their sixth grade math teacher Mrs. Walsh were sitting, waiting for them.

"Good morning." The older man, who had begun to be getting a jelly belly similar to that of Santa Claus, and gray hair that was not present in some spots of his head. He wore a Hawaiian type shirt and khaki shorts."I'm glad you were both able to come here on such short notice. I hope you aren't missing anything too important in class."

Shelby at this point was rather antsy. Had the teachers found out about what had happened at home for Jenny? Shelby was the only one that knew all of Jenny's secrets, she was her confidant.

Mr. Simmons looked from Jenny to Shelby. He cleared his throat. "I have been told by an anonymous staff member about some trouble you're having at home."

Oh shit, oh shit. Shelby had thought. They were going to send away Jenny to social services! She was going to have to get into a foster home and... SHIT SHIT SHIT.

"Now, I am sorry to say that you will have to be taken out of your home." Jenny suddenly raged. Her face grew red and she squeezed her knuckles as if to stop from full out punching someone.

"How could you? I told you everything!" Jenny screamed at Mrs. Walsh. Shelby's mouth dropped in shock. Jenny had told Mrs. Walsh?! When did this happen? Why wasn't I there? "You're such a bitch and I-"

"I'm going to adopt you!" Mrs. Walsh jumped up from her chair.

"What?" Jenny's rage turned suddenly into a string of tears. Jenny ran into Mrs. Walsh's arms, and they both cried. Shelby stood in the corner smiling.

This was what Jenny deserved. A superhero. Teachers were superheroes. That was the day Shelby decided she wanted to become a teacher too and make a difference in the lives of children in bad situations.

Jennifer and Elizabeth Walsh lived together until the time we graduated high school. Unfortunately, on the day of our high school graduation, on the way to the graduation Jenny and Elizabeth got into a car crash. Elizabeth survived, Jennifer did not.

At the time, nobody thought it was bad or weird. There were no rules about "hanging out" with teachers. Now there is way too much fuss about safety. Not that I don't understand what these people are coming from, but not all teachers are rapists.

I throw my hair back into a somewhat neat bun, my frizzy messy brown curly hair not really wanting to agree with me. My blue eyes look puffed up because I didn't sleep well, I almost never did... My kids are already at school for football practice. The quiet in the house is nice for once. It does nothing for my massive headache. I grab a big mug of coffee and sit down at the kitchen table, immediately putting my feet up. That does nothing for the pounding in my head. I shove a couple aspirins down my throat. Not that it made any difference.

No matter who I met, they would never mean anything to me.

Until today.

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