Windows to the soul
Quinn looked at the hello kitty analog clock on her bedside table that she had received for her 8th birthday. It seemed so long ago and so inappropriate for what she was about to do, it read 11:23.
"It should be late enough…"
She thought as she began to tiptoe out of her bedroom. As she walked, she caught sight of her full reflection in the large mirror on the back of her door. She saw her recently short blonde hair pulled into a little ponytail with lots of pieces falling out of the front. She saw her pink lacy nightgown clinging to her body. She paused to start to look at her eyes, but stopped. Too scared of what she might see. Eyes are the window of the mind, soul, and body, and she didn't like any of that anymore.
She padded down the narrow hallway to her mother's room and craned her neck to see the crack between the bottom of the door and the floor and saw the absence of light, and heard the absence of sound. She closed her eyes, took a breath of oxygen, and tiptoed back to her room.
Quinn wasn't always this way, in fact; she was daddy's little girl... or used to be. She used to be her school's darling, queen bee, and a shoe-in for prom queen. Slowly these things began to shatter one by one. It didn't begin with her pregnancy though, that was just the thing that set everything in motion. The beginning was her father. Although the Fabray family looks like a quaint family straight out of a 60's television show on the outside, with her mother's pearls, her father's ties, and the cabinet full of Quinn's trophies in the formal dining room, it couldn't be further from the truth. Her very first memory was from when she was very young and was playing with pots and pans on the floor of the kitchen while her mother was cooking dinner for the family. She remembered her dad stumbling into the room smelling funny, and her mother getting upset. The next thing she remembers was her mother falling on the cold floor next to her and pushing her arm's around Quinn to protect her. The thing she will never forget is the image of her father standing above them, holding the knife her mother was using to slice tomatoes only moments ago.
