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Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or anything to do with it. This is entirely fictional and in no way part of the show Glee. But if I did I would totally rock that show.
Chapter Three: Memories
A pair of cold palms touched my face. Gently sweeping my hair back and revealing my face. I must have looked a state. Blood seeping through my lock dark hair, tangling up the already knotted hair. Long, slender fingers brushed my cheekbones, the right hand gently sweeped across my jawline. Deja vu. My body had given up but the touch awakened me. My mind was telling me to let go, into the nothingness. Leave this cruel world and take the easy way out. But my heart, my heart was telling me something different. It was telling me that there was still hope. A fading voice was calling my name, it was a high pitched voice but it was so sweet. I could listen to it for days. I laid their in serenity, with a stranger brushing my face, trying to wake up my half-dead body. I couldn't hold on for much longer, but the familiarity of the voice sent me into a memory spiral, bring up a specific one to the front of my brain…
"Santana! Santana!" I heard Brittany yelling for me after Cheerios practice.I had hidden underneath the benches behind the football pitch as soon as Coach Sylvester told us to go to the showers. I couldn't face her. I mean I had seen her throughout the day, exchanging casual lingering glaces which I broke off before she could entise me over. But I had managed to avoid any interaction with her. I curled up, placing my knees by my chest, wrapping my arms around them. I hadn't seen her since she left my house yesterday - after the… event. My heart was pounding as I heard footsteps approach. A dark shape formed through the steps, drawing out a disfigured body. But still such a recognisable, beautiful body.
"Santana?" She whispered, bending down to look through the gaps in the seats. "I can see you, you know. I may be blonde but I'm not stup… No wait, I am." She giggled at her own joke.
"Yeah, I know. And no you're not B." I crawled to my feet, dusting off the sand that remained on my shins and knees. I ducked out from beneath the bench and flinched at the sudden sunlight that hit my face. I must have been sitting in the same position, in the dark for at least twenty minutes.
"San, what's going on? Why have you been avoiding me?" She asked.
"Sorry, I don't know. Just didn't know how you would act after what happened yesterday." I replied quietly. I, Santana Lopez was never one to answer quietly. Usually I stood up, raised my head high and for all intense and purposes, yelled what I thought from the rooftops. In some cases, I literally did shout what I meant from rooftops. But this, this was different. This was just between me and her. Santana and Brittany, best friends.
"San, it was just a kiss. Like you've always said, sex isn't dating." She said blankly.
I reminisced to the memory of when I told Brittany that just because I made out with people, didn't mean I was in love with them. That's how I got Brittany to make out with Mike for the first time. She first thought that kissing was a sign of eternal love, and sex was complete devotion. But after I gave her a talk in Puck's bedroom, she immediately went downstairs and made Mike Chang's night by sticking her tongue down his throat, several times.
"I wanted to kiss you, and since sex isn't dating, I assume that comes with all the rest like kissing, touching, fooling around." She stated.
"Oh right, well um," crap, she definitely had logic behind her actions; "I guess that's fair enough B. And, by the way, you're not stupid. Considering you worked that out." I replied, slightly arching my right eyebrow. I had nothing else to say, what was I supposed to say back to that? I soberly made out with my best friend last night. That just wasn't normal. Then again, I've never been a normal teenager. After rambling in my own head, I took a step towards Brittany, who was holding out her pinky. I linked my own pinky with it and we both spun around and headed for the locker room. She smiled at me, not questioning my opinion. Then we carried on in silence, my head swarming with confusion and many questions.
I no longer felt the rain dancing across my cheeks, I no longer felt the cold hands stinging my cheeks as it came into contact with them at speed. I just heard a constant beeping as well as humming. The blackness was still clouding my brain, preventing myself from raising my eyelids. Beep. Beep. Beep. Repeating over and over again, if it didn't stop I would go all Lima Heights on whatever was making that noise. I attempted to lift my palm to push the piece of hair that was tickling my nose out of the way, but I couldn't. I pushed the muscle in my arm, forcing my body to tense, but still, my arm stayed in place. Oh fuck. Am I dead? Is this what heaven is? I mean I know Kurt and Mercedes used to call me Satan but surely I didn't go to hell? Maybe the punishment is listening to that beeping for all of eternity. That really is hell.
I lay there, unable to open my eyes, or move any part of my body. My brain completely functional. What the hell is going on? I traced back, over my life. Still questioning myself about how I got here, laying in what I only assume to be a hospital bed. The last thing I remember was the immense pain in my left side, my arm... the cracking and numbness that spread across my forearm and elbow... The sound when my head smacked the concrete... Shit. What if I never wake up? I'd never be able to do all the things I wanted too. Sure they weren't huge dreams like climbing Mount Everest or flying around the world in 80 days or whatever people considered to be a great achievement. Then it struck me, I'd never be able to touch her, to hear her voice, to look at the beauty of the azure coloured eyes that as they sparkled at me. It didn't matter to me if I'd never see my mother or father again, or to sing or dance in Glee - I just didn't care. It was such a horrible thing for me to think, for anyone to think - but I would endure getting hit my that Jeep a thousand times over before my ability to see her again was taken away.
With that thought, I let my brain run free, considering it was the only part of my body that was functioning. Leaving room for every thought to process and develop into more and more questions. If I'm going to die, I need to look at my life from every point right? What have I done with my life? I've been a straight A student, a member of New Directions, a Cheerio - the Head Cheerio for the matter and the co-founder and head of Bully Whips. I had good friends; Puckerman, Quinn, Tina, Kurt, Mercedes, Lauren, Blaine and of course Brittany. I'd had a few relationships, with Sam, Puck, Finn, Matt and kind of Karofsky. I hadn't been that bad of a person, sure I told the truth and most of the time it was harsh, but did that make me a bitch? I had been a talented girl, I could sing, dance, take revenge, gossip for the country and definitely do tricks with my tongue. But surely this couldn't be karma for everything bad that I've done. I was never really a bad person, I always put on a mask for that. But I only ever knew one person who saw straight through my mask... Brittany. And with that last thought, I traced my mind back to the first day I started showing the real Santana Lopez.