This, again, could be triggering.
It didn't come as a surprise when Rachel found herself being called into Mr Schue's office the next day as she passed it on her way to her first class. She had thought he'd try and corner her at some point during the day, but had assumed it would be after Glee, or Spanish as lunch was after that. The fact that he was calling her in after she had been in school for just twenty minutes and had just five minutes to get to her first period worried her. It meant he was serious. He was going to question her about what had happened the previous day and everything else he could think of and Rachel's mind was coming up blank of excuses.
For a second, she thought of just running, but then that would make it look as if she had something to hide, and it would be impossible to avoid him forever. The best thing to do was to put on a smile, hide behind her show face and spout something about Karofsky having called her Fag Spawn a couple of times as he had thrown slushie in her face. Nothing serious. She'd pretend she thought nothing of it and just passed his comments off as ignorance and forgot them. He didn't have to know those two words were carved into her left thigh.
The show face was already carefully in place as Rachel entered the office, not too happy, it was first thing in the morning on a school day, looking as if the sun was shining right inside her mouth would be unrealistic, but a small smile lingered on her lips, not enough to really notice, but enough to make a difference to her face. Enough to make her look happy. Mr Schue gestured for her to sit down, looking slightly more relaxed when he saw the look on her face. She was already fooling him and she hadn't even said anything.
"What happened yesterday?" He said, cutting straight to the chase. Rachel blinked and for a few moments, she didn't speak, caught of guard by the sudden question. She had expected it, but not so soon. But with an unfaltering expression and a direct look into her teacher's eyes and she was back on track.
"I told you Mr Schue, Karofsky pushed me over and called me some names, then he tipped the lemonade over my head. Just his usual childishness, nothing I took to heart."
Rachel spoke casually with no cheer in her voice but no sadness either. She spoke as if he was nothing more than a pathetic High School bully that didn't bother her in the slightest. She knew that should be the way. One day, she'd be out of there and a Broadway star, then it wouldn't matter what he thought of her, but every day she was pushed further and further down, her dream seemed like nothing more than a fantasy she told herself to cheer up. Perhaps that was all it ever really was, just like the dream of her mother had been.
"A dream is something that fills up the emptiness inside, the thing that you knew if it would come true all the hurt would go away." That was how Jesse had described a dream, and that's how Rachel had seen the thought of her mother. She was someone Rachel thought of in the times when a glass of water just wouldn't cut it, when her dads were away and she had no one to ask over, in all those times she felt so lonely it was as if she was being eaten up from the inside out. But clearly, the feeling wasn't mutual. All she had been to her mother was a little experiment that she'd given up on as soon as she realised she wasn't going to get the results she wanted. Maybe that was all Broadway was too, a dream. It was never going to live up to her expectations and become a reality.
"...been warned that if anything like this happens again, legal charges could be pressed against him for discriminative assault."
The speech that Rachel had missed came to an end just as she tuned in to her teacher's voice. She could only imagine he was talking about Karofsky and wondered why all this hadn't happened before when Kurt had reported him. Perhaps the previous day had just been one thing too many. She nodded and gave a brief, polite smile before standing to leave, but Mr Schue gestured for her to sit back down. She did so reluctantly, wishing the conversation could be over.
"Rachel, are you sure you're all right? I know David's opinions on these matters aren't the most valued, but it can't have been easy to hear that."
No matter how hard she tried to plaster on her show face, Rachel could not bring herself to look at her teacher as she told such a direct lie. She thought of the scars that covered her body, the very insult Karofsky had shot at her the previous day carved onto her skin, the cold empty loneliness that settled in the core of her heart each morning, the weight of dread on her shoulders that accompanied dawn, the twisted way she saw each action and heard every word and the worthlessness that pressed so hard on her body that she could barely hold herself up. She wanted to take the blackness inside her and rip it out, she wanted to be rid of it in any way she could, because sometimes she felt as if she would rather be dead than live inside her own skin with herself.
"I'm fine Mr Schue," she said, calmly without looking him in the eye. "He'll regret everything one day when I'm a star on Broadway and he's still here working in some fast food restaurant twelve hours a day to scrape together a living." She was starting to grow tired from smiling and pretending, and it had barely been an hour.
"That may be true Rachel, but you've been different lately. You're just not yourself and I haven't forgotten what you said the last time we talked about this."
Rachel opened her mouth to respond, but snapped it shut again when she realised she didn't have an answer. Why had she said that? Why hadn't she told him she was fine, just over tired and she'd try harder to get her grade up? That would have been the sensible thing to do, the thing that the actress inside wanted her to say, but she'd let her emotions get the better of her. Again.
"I've just been stressing out recently. A lot of my school work has piled up and with Regionals approaching and daily slushie facials, it's just all been getting on top of me, but I'll be okay. I already have a night by night schedule planned on how to get through all my work and preparation." Just one more lie to pile up on all the others she had told.
Mr Schue sighed, unconvinced. "Okay, but if you ever do want a word, my door is always open."
He sounded like someone from a cheesy budget movie, but even Rachel knew it would be rude to say so, so instead she smiled and nodded and thanked him, just as she was expected to do. She walked briskly from his office, but not too fast, she didn't make it look like she was desperate to escape. She walked with the same bounce in her step and the bright smile on her face that she always wore, as if nothing were any different.
Then she saw Finn, and just for a split second, it was as if nothing were. His face lit up with a grin when he caught sight of her and he took a step towards her. But then he remembered. His face fell, the grin sliding off it and he stepped backwards, resuming his place amongst the rest of his football team as if he had never seen her at all. Rachel felt the familiar twist of disappointment in her stomach before she too turned away from him and headed to the one place that still felt like somewhere she belonged.
The auditorium was empty as usual and the creak of the opening door echoed through the large walls. Rachel approached the stage slowly, running her fingers along the walls and chairs as she passed them, basking in the familiarity of the place. Already she felt some of the pain ebb away, this was somewhere she could express her feelings without leaving a scar. She could say all she wanted to without the judgement of others and without letting her show face slip. At least not in front of anyone else.
She already knew what she would sing, and she'd do it without the music. She didn't want anyone witnessing her honesty, not even Brad. He might not speak, but he'd still know. She'd still have to share breathing space with him every day knowing that he knew her secret, and then it would no longer be private, it would no longer be hers. It would be a secret she shared with Brad the piano guy.
Just standing on the stage made Rachel feel more at home than she had done in weeks. It had been such a long time since she sung to herself, a song for her, not something for Glee Club. It wasn't like she hadn't wanted to, she just hadn't known what to sing. Nothing she knew seemed to express the feelings inside her, but inside Mr Schue's office it had come to her. The perfect song. Rachel drew a deep breath to prepare herself and closed her eyes, blocking out the rest of the world so it was simply her and her voice.
Not a stranger
No I am yours
With crippled anger,
And tears that still drip sore
A fragile frame aged, with misery
But when our eyes meet,
I know you see,
As she sung, Rachel thought back to Mr Schue and the conversation they had had both in the classroom and his office. She thought of Santana and her reasons for telling the truth. They had called her different. What they didn't seem to understand was that she wasn't different, she was just the way she had always been. They were seeing more of the real her than they had ever seen before, but to them, that girl was a stranger.
I do not wanna be afraid
I do not wanna die inside just to breathe in
I'm tired, of feeling so numb
Relief exists I find it when
I am cut
That glorious feeling. The one she could only get from a blade. The wonderful freedom as the cold, stone weight lifted from her shoulders, even if just for a limited time. Then, of course, there was always the come down, but it was worth it. Those moments of light giddiness made all the repercussions seem like nothing.
I may seem crazy
Or painfully shy
But these scars wouldn't be so hidden
If you would just look me in the eye.
I feel alone here and cold here
Though I don't wanna die
But the only anaesthetic that makes me feel anything kills inside.
That was something they would never understand, the crazy. They'd never get that she needed to stay positive and happy all of the time, not just because of the mask, but because otherwise she would drown in the cold, rolling wave of darkness. They'd never understand that she wanted the spotlight all the time and craved all attention because she was so lonely. No one wanted to be near her, no one gave her a chance, no one saw the girl past the winning and competitions and for that reason she could never tell them.
I do not wanna be afraid
I do not wanna die inside just to breathe in
I'm tired, of feeling so numb
Relief exists I find it when,
I am cut
I am not alone
I am not alone
The last notes dragged as Rachel belted them with all the emotions she had built up inside her, and even she could hear the raw pain in her voice. Even without an audience, the performance was flawless. Jesse had once told her the only thing wrong with her singing was it lacked emotional depth. Well that one had it all right. It held every emotion she had built up inside, releasing only on her skin for seven years. The longing for the words to be true could be heard in every note. She felt alone, even though she had Kurt and even Noah when he was in a good mood, it was like she was living in her very own private world where there was no one to hear her scream.
Not a stranger
No I am yours
With crippled anger
And tears that still drip sore
I do not wanna be afraid
I do not wanna die inside just to breathe in
I'm tired, of feeling so numb
Relief exists I found it when
I was cut.
As soon as the final note left her mouth, the exhaustion washed over her, so heavy and sudden that her legs buckled underneath her and she collapsed onto the stage. She wasn't sure when she had started to cry, but her cheeks were already soaked with tears and more followed them. But they were tears of relief, tears of overwhelming escaped emotion, tears that proved she was alive and feeling and she did not want to cut to make them go away.
"Berry?" A voice from behind her startled Rachel into stopping the tears immediately and hurriedly wiping away those that had already fallen, but she already knew it was too late. She just hoped her hadn't heard her sing.
"Noah," Rachel greeted in a calm but shaky voice, but it was clear from his face that the damage was already done. He looked shocked and angry and mildly horrified as he jumped up onto the stage and strode towards her.
"What the hell was that," he demanded, in a voice that told her she had better answer.
"I-I was just practising adding emotional depth to my singing," she lied, but the lie sounded feeble and pathetic, even to her. Judging by the eyebrows that immediately shot up Puck's forehead, he thought so too.
"Bullshit," he snapped, bluntly and in one quick movement he pulled her to her feet and pushed up her sleeve before she could even react. Rachel had never been more grateful than she was then that she never cut on her arms, having predicted how obvious a place it would be considering she was often forced to wear short t-shirts and dresses in Glee, not to mention the dance routines they often practised that would surely have her sweating and wishing to remove her jacket. But if she had been hoping that he would forget the matter and assume it had just been a practice song after all, she was in for more disappointment.
"Where?" Puck demanded with the same aggressive edge to his voice she had only ever heard him use on Finn when he was attacking him about not deserving Quinn. He had never spoken to her in that way before, not when he was throwing slushies at her face, not even when she broke up with him.
Rachel said nothing. There was no use in lying, it was clear that he had heard her song and put two and two together, but there was no way she wanted him to see her scars, they were hers and they were private. But his stare was burning a hole right through her and she knew he was mentally picturing her in very little clothing, envisioning where she would make the marks. If the situation weren't so serious she would have taken a moment to marvel at how it was probably the first time he had had that mental image in a non sexual manner.
"Where?" He said again, raising his voice at her for the first time in as long as she could remember.
Rachel's heart began to hammer under her cardigan and for the first time, she understood the wish to be sucked up by the floor and transported anywhere that wasn't there. He knew, Noah, the boy she had known since she was four years old knew. He knew her darkest, most well kept secret and she wanted to run from him and never have to face him for the rest of her life because he was staring at her with judgemental, anger filled eyes and she couldn't bear for him to look at her like that, to think about her like that.
"Screw this," snarled Puck. He turned away from her angrily and stormed to the edge of the stage before jumping off and landing heavily on the wooden floor, then, without glancing back at her, he walked all the way out of the auditorium and slammed the door behind him. Rachel didn't even try to stop him, she wanted him to leave, it was better that way. For both of them. He didn't need a friend like her.
…
A flutter of fear had settled itself in Rachel's stomach as soon as she had walked out of the school gates, and now she was home, it still hadn't shifted. Her last class of the day had been math, and she'd skipped it. She had actually cut class. That was something Puck did, not her. She'd never cut class in all of her life, and now here she was pushing the key into her front door at half past two, but that wasn't the reason for the fear. The reason Rachel was scared was because she didn't care.
The door slammed shut behind her as she stepped inside, and she almost screamed aloud as soon as she did so. Noah was standing in her hall carrying a cardboard box that Rachel could not see the contents of, looking just as surprised to see her as she was to see him.
"Noah! What are you doing here?" She demanded in the old bossy tone she used to use so much. A glint of amusement flashed through Puck's eyes at the glimmer of the old Rachel and he realised with another jolt of surprise that he had actually missed her bossy craziness. Puck grinned, enjoying winding her up with silence.
Rachel stormed over to him and tried to peer into the box, but he lifted it up out of her sight and she gave a loud sigh of frustration.
"This is private property and I think you'll find you are trespassing. If you do not either leave or give me a good reason why you are here in the next thirty seconds, I will be calling the police." The grin stayed on Puck's face and he remained unphased. He knew she wouldn't do it. The old Rachel might have done, but she was hardly the person she used to be. She wasn't bossy anymore, she wasn't as crazy and she didn't even have any song suggestions for Regionals. Since Santana had told the world she was a lying cow, parts of the old Jewish Princess he knew and loved had been starting to reappear, but she still wasn't Berry.
"C'mon, lighten up. I'm being a good helpful Jewish boy," he said, swatting away her hands as she tried to lunge for the box.
"How exactly is breaking into my house helping?" Rachel snapped, glaring at him.
"I'm saving you from yourself," he replied, before turning around and striding towards the kitchen. "I've already covered upstairs and the lounge, just the kitchen to do now, this should be good."
Completely at sea as to what he was talking about, Rachel followed him, hoping to get a glance inside the box he was carrying, which had been lowered to her level, but Puck moved too fast for her to see in it. She followed him into the kitchen, more threats running through her mind as she did so, but none of them came out of her mouth. He clearly wasn't listening to her, it wasn't as if he ever did and she could see no reason he would start now. Especially not as he was angry with her.
Puck had pulled open one of the kitchen draws, from which he pulled a pair of scissors and a nail file and flung them into his box. Rachel blinked in surprise, more confused than ever until she saw him take a knife from the sink and throw that in too, then his intentions hit her full in the gut, bringing with them a surge of panic. She gasped and practically ran to him as he opened another draw and began to empty it of all knives.
"Noah, what on earth do you think you're doing?" She said, trying to sound demanding and authoritative, but she was so afraid of his actions that her voice came out shaky and high pitched, her panic clearly masked inside.
"I told you, I'm saving you from yourself," he grunted as he swept the kitchen once again for anything she could use to hurt herself. He even took the blade from the blender. "What the hell are you even doing here?"
"I live here Noah," she snapped, her panic rising as she saw him take the magnet mirror from the fridge. He really had thought of everything, and if he had been there since he left her in the auditorium, he would have had enough time to completely comb her house for anything even remotely sharp. She couldn't let him do it, just the thought of being without her blade scared her more than she even thought possible. Her chest constricted and her throat seemed to close up at having nothing.
"Shouldn't you be in school like a good little Jewish girl?"
Rachel ignored him and lunged for the box, but he pulled it easily out of her reach and threw in a few packets of pills. She opened her mouth to inform him she wasn't suicidal, but before she said anything, she realised she could not put her hand on her heart and swear that was true. She didn't want to die, but he was taking away her blades, the one thing that made everything better and she needed something to banish the dark, rolling wave when singing didn't shift it.
"Noah, please," Rachel begged, and she saw something flash in his eyes at the sound of her pleas, but as soon as it had come, it was gone again and he gave her a cold, hard glare instead.
"You really think I'm just going to let you do this? I may be a bad-ass, but I'm not heartless. Now move," he retorted and pushed her gently out of the way with his free hand, contradicting his tone.
Satisfied that he had everything, Puck began to storm towards the front door, but Rachel ran after him, hanging onto his arm. He couldn't leave. She knew he couldn't leave. Not with her things, with everything that made it better. But he was walking out of the door with all she had in his arms and each time she went to stop him, he just swatted her away as if she were nothing more than an annoying fly. She couldn't stop him as he walked towards the door. She couldn't stop him as he stormed right out of it. She couldn't stop him as he opened his car door. She couldn't stop him as he got in his car and took her security with him.
"Noah!" She shrieked after his car as it rolled out of the driveway. Her heart was banging in her chest and the cold dread was rising up in her stomach and she knew it wouldn't stop. She knew it was going to just keep rising until it had forced everything out of her and then she would want to cut because that was the only way she knew how to make an opening for it to all escape.
"Later Berry," Puck called out of his open window as his car left the driveway and sped up, disappearing along the end of the road, taking her entire life with him.
Review? Please?
