Warning: This has some cutting and suicidal thoughts. For those who can't support this please do not read.
Author's Note: Thank you for the support! Here is an other thing I wrote to follow-up the last chapter. Read and review please! Those make my day^^
Darkness
It cannot be seen, cannot be felt
Cannot be heard, cannot be smelt.
It lies behind the stars and under hills,
And empty holes it fills.
It comes first and follows after,
Ends life, kills laughter.
Today just didn't feel good. It was definitely worse than yesterday. And the days before. Who felt like living after a hell of a day like that? No one. So why would she be expected to live on? I bet you can't answer that, eh?
The bullying had gotten worse. Mixed with the insults, the jocks had gotten into shoving her into the metallic lockers, her already hurt arms were now black and blue. Slushies were thrown at her face and stained her clothes. She was cold for the rest of the day because if she changed clothes the offenders would just rise on the occasion to throw another cold drink at her face. She was always showered with a rain of insults and disapproving glances. All of that hurt. A lot.
Her parents had so high expectations out of her. She had to be Captain of the Cheerios, had to get the best grades, had to be Queen of the Chastity Ball, in a word she had to be perfect. Perfect. That remind her of something she read a long time ago in a book of sayings and quotations.
"For everything in this journey of life we are on, there is a right wing and a left wing: for the wing of love there is anger; for the wing of destiny there is fear; for the wing of pain there is healing; for the wing of hurt there is forgiveness; for the wing of pride there is humility; for the wing of giving there is taking; for the wing of tears there is joy; for the wing of rejection there is acceptance; for the wing of judgment there is grace; for the wing of honor there is shame; for the wing of letting go there is the wing of keeping. We can only fly with two wings and two wings can only stay in the air if there is a balance. Two beautiful wings is perfection. There is a generation of people who idealize perfection as the existence of only one of these wings every time. But I see that a bird with one wing is imperfect. An angel with one wing is imperfect. A butterfly with one wing is dead. So this generation of people strive to always cut off the other wing in the hopes of embodying their ideal of perfection, and in doing so, have created a crippled race."
C. JoyBell C.
That was the behavior her parents were encouraging. They were breaking her and they didn't even realize it. She would do anything to rebel against them but she simply wasn't courageous enough. Her pregnancy was already a huge deal so if she rebelled... what would happen?
People just didn't understand her. They simply didn't.
Small extract from Quinn's diary.
They don't know what it's like when nothing feels all right. They don't know what it's like to be like me, to be hurt, to feel lost, to be left out in the dark, to be kicked when you're down, to feel like you've been pushed around, to be on the edge of breaking down and no one's there to save you. No, they don't know what it's like.
I realized just now, even though I already knew before, the people I love most forget me.
End of extract
Cutting just wasn't enough anymore. She had to do something a little more final. Something that would end her calvary once and for all. She had been thinking about it for quite sometime. Planning it in class whilst the teacher was talking away.
Today her parents wern't home.
Today felt right.
Today had been horrible.
Today had pushed her to her limits.
Today, she was going to end it all.
All the suffering once and for all.
With her tear-stained face, she walked up to her closet and chose her favorite dress. Hopefully her parents would understand that she wished to be buried with that. She gently laid it on her bed.
She sat down at her desk and wrote a note.
I am now about to make the great adventure. I cannot endure this agonizing pain any longer.
The act of taking my own life is not something that I do without a lot of thought. I don't believe that people should take their own lives without deep and thoughtful reflection over a considerable period of time. I do believe strongly, however, that the right to do so is one of the most fundamental rights anyone in a free society should have. For me much of the world makes no sense, but my feelings about what I am doing ring loud and clear to an inner ear and to a place where there is no self, only calm.
And so I leave this world, where the heart must either break or turn to lead.
Goodbye world.
-Q
PS: If you manage to save my baby, name her Beth (short for Bethany). Give her a loving home. That's all I ask.
Once she was happy with the note, she took her most beautiful pen with black ink and copied it on a red paper. She got up and put the note on her bed, next to the dress.
Happy with the result, she got up and went to her bathroom. She locked the door and went to the cupboard over the sink. She got out her razor blade purchased for the occasion and a few painkillers. She had never used the razor blade to cut before.
She got a glass of the cupboard and filled it with water. She popped the painkillers in her mouth and swallowed them with the liquid. She sat down on the floor, sure of her decision. She took She took the sharp blade and pressed it against her artery, vertically this time. Not horizontally like she used to. She decided to do one deep cut.
The blade was brushing against her wounded arm, tickling the skin as it went. She gathered her courage and firmly pressed the blade against her frail arm.
The scarlet blood instantly came out of the cut. Red droplets rolled down her arm and splashed onto the floor. The flow of the flood was higher than cutting with scissors. The sensation was also different. It felt a lot better.
As she was closing her eyes, the opening notes of Dying From A Broken Heart by Brooke Valentine echoed in her bathroom. She picked up her phone and looked at the caller ID. Rachel Berry. Of course. The only one who didn't turn her back on her.
She decided to take the call. What could it do anyways? She was half way to her death. She was beginning to feel light-headed. She pressed the green button and listened to Rachel.
"Hello Quinn, how are you? ... Quinn? ... Are you here? ... Are you OK? ... We need to talk about our Glee mash-up... QUINN? Answer please, I can her you breathing!... Stop being so mean to me!
- Rachel...
- Oh my gosh Quinn! You realized you called me by my name right? Are you sure you're OK?
- No, I'm not, OK?! That's the whole problem Manhands!
- Quinn calm down. I'll be over to your house in five.
- Shit! No don't! Please!
-I'm coming over whether you like it or not. See in you a few."
Could Berry get anymore annoying than that? Her stupid decisions and stubbornness!
She would never be able to clean all the mess she made before Manhands came over. Too bad. Hopefully she'd be dead by the time Rachel arrived.
Author's Note: Please review! Thanks^^
Btw yalie ily and thanks again.