"Do you know why you're here?" She didn't answer. She knew all too well about police interrogations- all she had to figure out was why she was here. Had they finally caught her for shoplifting? Impossible. I hack into the security cameras and replace my footage with old tapes. She thought, a smile threatening to surface. She knew not to smile. It made you look like a psycopath. Especially if it was a crime like rape, or murder. Holy crap. She thought calmly to herself. Could this be about Quinn? Quinn had gone missing over a year ago, and her body was finally found last week. Oh my god, they think I killed her. "Santana?" Her head shot up. Deciding against a verbal answer, she shook her head. "We're here to talk to you about Quinn Fabray. You do know her body was found last week, right?" Santana nodded. The police officer smiled.
"Why are you smiling?" Santana whispered grimly. "A human being is dead. A TEENAGER, she's dead. Why are you smiling?" Her voice raised to a shout, and she slammed her hands on the table. The police officer looked alarmed, and jumped backwards a bit.
"I'm not smiling because she's dead, if that's what you're thinking." Santana raised an eyebrow. The policeman ignored it. "It's been discovered that Quinn Fabray did not die voluntarily. She did not stab herself and throw herself into that river." He slapped down a file on the table. Santana looked at him, and he gave her a nod to look into it. She was reluctant to look, but she flipped open to the first page because the interrogation wouldn't be going anywhere until she looked. There was a picture of Quinn's lungs filled with some sort of substance. Santana traced her finger along it. "It's gas."
"How did she-"
"We don't know."
There was silence. Santana flipped the page only to flip the entire folder out of her hands. Tears filled her eyes. Don't show weakness. It looks fake. Santana thought as she avoided eye contact with the officer. "Was that...was that her?"
"Yes."
"What...happened?"
"She was stabbed over ten times, the official amount is unknown. She was put in a trunk, judging by the trauma on the sides of her head. She was doused in gasoline and torched, and she was then thrown in the lake. There were traces of...of semen, in her mouth, so it's presumed that she was either dead or nearly dead when she was...raped." Santana's brows furrowed.
"She survived getting stabbed ten times and being put in a trunk."
"How do you know that?"
"The gas in her lungs. She breathed in gas. She was still alive." The policeman didn't respond. Instead he wrote something down.
"You can leave." He said, grabbing her arm and leading her to the door. The entire Glee club, at least all of whom that had went before her, looked at her accusingly.
"What?" Santana asked quietly, the rude gazes of the Glee Club burning into her.
"You were with Quinn the night she died." Finn finally spoke. Santana gave them a look.
"You don't honestly think that I killed her." They looked away. "My god." Santana whispered. "You're all insensitive pricks." Her voice raised, everyone looking at her. "Quinn Fabray was my BEST FRIEND. There are things I knew about her that NONE of you did. And everything you THINK you know, you DON'T. You're CLUELESS. I AM THE ONLY ONE SHE TOLD WHEN SHE WAS RAPED. I AM THE ONLY ONE SHE TOLD ABOUT EVERYTHING THAT WENT ON IN HER LIFE. NONE OF YOU KNEW HER LIKE I KNEW HER." She paused. The Glee club looked partly sympathetic. "WHEN SHE WENT MISSING, I LOOKED FOR HER. I NEVER HAD MONO. I WENT OUT AND SEARCHED. NONE OF YOU DID ANYTHING TO HELP FIND HER." Santana screamed. Before she could continue her lecture, two police officers grabbed her. Santana just lost it. She kicked one of them off of her left arm and punched the other so hard he was knocked out. When the Glee boys came to grab her, she ran. She ran, and she kept running, until she got into the parking lot of a large tan building. "Fuck." She whispered to herself, knowing that in order to get away, she'd have to steal a car. She grabbed the screwdriver that she shoplifted out of her purse- She kinda just shoplifted for fun- and unscrewed the liscense plates of a Red Ford F-150 and a Red Toyota Tundra, switching them around before climbing underneath the Ford and hotwiring it.
"Thank god for dad." She said to herself before climbing into the car and peeling out of the parking lot. As she was on the outskirts of town, the realization set in. If she was really gonna do this, she had to grab some things from home. Her fake I.D being the most important thing. She drove to about 3 blocks from her house and she ran, jumping in the back window and grabbing her fake I.D. When she walked down and grabbed her wallet, she saw her face on the TV. "What the fu-"
"Santana Lopez. Wanted for assault and battery against two police officers and the possible murder of Quinn Fabray."
Santana flipped off the TV and ran to her parents' room. It had to be there. She rummaged through her father's clothes and drawers, discarding the usual secretive things he hid. "Where IS it?" She yelled in frustration, knocking the dresser over. "Fuck it." She said, running out of the room and back into her stolen car. She was barely out of Lima when her phone rang. "Hello?" She picked up. She'd plant the phone somewhere later.
"Santana? You do realize you are a wanted person, right?"
"Rachel, what the fuck do you want?"
"Did you kill her?" There was silence. There'd been a lot of that. "Santana, I don't think you did, and I don't want to turn you in. But I want to talk to you. And I'm not gonna turn you in unless I have SERIOUS reason to believe it. So please, Santana, did you kill her?" Tears filled Santana's eyes.
"No." She said bitterly before hanging up. Where was she gonna go? She had to dye her hair, change her sense of style, burn the clothes she's wearing, throw away her phone and start an entirely new life. Running away made her look guilty. And maybe she was. She was with Quinn the night she went missing, yes. But did that make her guilty? She couldn't remember. She DID remember getting drunk with Quinn and getting into a fight with her. Quinn seemed to WANT to start a fight. "Oh my god."
Santana stopped the car and got out. Her phone battery was at 7 percent. She made an appointment-using her fake ID- to get her hair highlighted, she walked to the wallgreens about a block away to get a trac-phone, and she walked back to her car- only to find a note.
Poor, poor Santana. You just can't catch a break, can you? Abused and molested by your stepdad, neglected by your alcoholic mother, and now being accused of murder? You always WERE an angry drunk...
Santana stopped in her tracks. She frantically looked around, trying to catch a glimpse of someone. Her heart stopped when she turned on the car to find another note on the steering wheel.
I may be dead, but you can't get away from me.
Only one person knew that stuff about Santana.
Santana slammed the car door as she got out, for once not caring about her makeup running from the rain, and she looked around. She collapsed to the ground, tears freely falling, and as she looked up, she caught glimpse of a girl with blonde hair in a blue raincoat. Santana kept her eyes on the person, until it suddenly started running away. Santana tried to get up, tried to chase after this person that knew her secret- but she couldn't. Everything was blurry, and as she stood up, she only fell right back down. She muttered one last word before she went under, as everything was turning black.
"Quinn?"