Title: We're totally fucked

Disclaimer: Still don't own Glee... Deal with it

There's a moment when you look back at all the shit you've done and try to pin point when things started going wrong.

It's probably the day you saw her.

You knew right then and there that she would be the death of you- you just wish that this death would hurt more, be more painful or less enjoyable.

"Quinn" you love how it sounds coming out her mouth, like it's the only thing her lips were meant to whisper. She was born to call your name over and over again.

"Quinn" she's dreaming about you, and her smile makes you believe it's a good dream, one you can't seem to see.

She's naked physically and emotionally, you literally took the purest thing from her, and she doesn't seem to regret it.

So, why do you?

Your dad told you babies were trouble, that if he weren't a "Christian" he probably would've aborted you and your sister.

You gotta love what beer does to his filter.

It was right after a family party, he was in front of the television with his 8 or 9th glass and his eyes could barely stay open.

You would've had laughed if it were someone else.

"You know Quinnie" you almost tell him that that's not your name, but go against it. "your mom and I didn't really want your sister"

It's so random, he's just sitting there smirk in place telling you your sister wasn't planned.

"yeah, we were so young but you know, we're a Christian family and we had to do the right thing."

You hate how he believes it was the "right thing" when you and your sister wish you were dead every other day.

It's a never ending cycle.

You remember how he was hard on you guys always expecting the best, always showing you guys off like trophies.

You wonder why he kept the "troubled babies" in the first place.

The mirror looks dirty.

You've been cleaning your room for the past hour trying to erase the memories of what just happened.

Nothing seems to work though.

Rachel totally took over your room, and you know it isn't really yours anymore anyways.

Not since she left.

She literally fucked you over.

"Quinn" you wonder how your name could sound so perfect, how she could make it sound like something beautiful.

You think about asking her. You know you won't though.

"You know, we're going to have to talk about this" Rachel says getting up from your bed and walking towards you. She should put some clothes on.

"We don't have to" there's that anger in your tone again, the HBIC one you use to scare off everybody else. She doesn't mind it though.

"We have to, we had sex Quinn, we fucked, we should talk about how this changes things"

She should really put some clothes on.

"This doesn't change anything, I still hate you"

Lie.

"Yeah, okay. Maybe you should tell that to your lip, like biting it down would stop how you felt, you might want to get it checked" she's clothed and out your house before you know it, you should run out and at least say you'll drive her home.

But it smells like her, your room has been bathed with her scent and you fucking hate it.

Lie.

So you throw everything that reminds you of her out. Glee pictures, your bed spread, even headbands.

You got it bad.

She corners you the whole week, trying to have a talk with you, you make up excuses though, talking about tests, and homework's you need to do. She seems to give up eventually, only looking at you in glee club sadness across her beautiful get mad at yourself more and more, you want to be able to make her feel good, not bad. And it doesn't help that Finn's right there doing what you know is your job. If only you had guts.

You wish you could hug her.

You wish she would kiss you.

But you know she won't.

Until a month passes by and you've managed to ignore her. She corners you on Tuesday, though. Literally putting your ass in a corner, so all you can do is look at your black sneakers and hope she'll leave.

"We need to speak Quinn"

And of course she wouldn't just leave. Your face lifts from the ground, slowly taking in her swollen eyes. She's being crying.

Dammit.

"What about?" And it's so fucking heartless; you could practically see the words hitting her across the face.

"I'm late Quinn"

O.K. that was so not what you were expecting. Does she know she cornered you? Because she can't just miss class and then blame you.

"Then go to class, I mean you kind of came to me, so if they call your house then-"

"No, fuck, Quinn. I'm LATE as in I haven't gotten my period. I'm never late, and we, I, forget it"

And she's gone, just like that and all you can do is slide down towards the floor like you're in a fucking movie. You know you should go after her, especially after what she just said, but you can't. It hurts you, so you stay on the dirty ass floor and do what you haven't done in a long time.

You cry.

You're Pathetic.

And she might be pregnant.

With your kid.

You're fucked.

A/N: I'm sorry it's so short and late, I know where I want this story to go, but getting ready for the SAT's is a pain in the ass.

Please review and tell me what you think.