-/-
My skin almost hisses when it hits the scalding water. Good. That means I'm feeling something.
I never thought it would come to this. I always thought that I'd be stronger than whatever life threw at me, that I'd never take the coward's way out. But here we are. I guess I really am a coward.
I settle down into the tub, my body practically screaming to be cooled off, but I ignore it. Like I said, it makes me feel something. Thick steam rises up around me; I can't help but compare myself to soup and it makes me laugh a little though I'm still crying. I can already see my skin turning red under the burning water.
My heart beats so loudly that I can hear it, as I take the razor into my fingers. I can hear my uneven breathing as I raise it to my wrist. It's now or never.
Slowly, I glide it along the smooth skin until it breaks with an angry sting. Aah! I cry out involuntarily at the pain. Bubbles of crimson spurt up from the neat line; they shimmer in the light as if taunting me. So I run the blade over it again and drop my wrist into the water, a cloud of red blossoming upon impact. It's actually quite pretty.
I repeat this with my other wrist and watch, my sobbing becoming more frantic, as the bath water becomes a tinted pink. Oh my god, I actually did it! Oh my god, I'm going to die!
Then it occurs to me.
I'm a murderer!
I'm murdering my own baby! I hadn't thought about that way! What will happen to it after I bleed out, will it die slowly and painfully?! Oh, the poor thing! I don't want my baby to suffer! And now it's too late!
I bring my knees up to my chest, soaked with the stained water, and I weep against them pitifully. I'm going to hell for killing my child! Oh, please let God understand! I'm sparing it from a horrible life, I don't mean to be cruel! Please God, please don't let it suffer!
I wonder how long this is going to take. I already feel dizzy and nauseous from the blood loss, or maybe it's the crying, but maybe I should make a deeper cut! I just want this to be over with!
"Rachel?"
My head shoots up. What the hell is Mr. Schuester doing here?! I hear the front door slam and his heavy footsteps on the floor below. "Rachel!" he calls again.
I'm not going to respond to him. I bury my face back into my knees, still crying, and pray that God will just take me soon. I locked the door to the bathroom so he can wait out there for me to die.
How does he know where I live? What the- oh yeah, he drove me home back in October, back when I was obsessing over him. Doing the things that got me into this situation in the first place. What a stupid little bitch I was. But I guess I still am.
The water is gradually turning a darker color with my blood, and the metallic smell is now evident. I can't believe that this is how I'm going to die! I'm going to be dead in a short while, dead! And no one's even going to miss me! It's a strange feeling knowing that this bathroom is the last thing I'm going to see, these thoughts I'm thinking are the last things I'll ever think. What are my last words? Congratulations? Damn. I wish it was something more meaningful.
"Rachel!"
He's outside of the bathroom door now, I can tell from his voice. Why does he care if I die? Is he so hellbent on getting a kid? Actually, he probably knows that he's the reason behind all of this and just doesn't want to live with the guilt, doesn't want my blood on his hands. So I keep ignoring him and I cry, I cry as loud as I want. I don't care about hiding my tears anymore. I watch them drop into the water, making little, even ripples. And I think he hears me because the door knob jiggles loudly.
"Rachel! Open the door!" he shouts. "Open the fucking door!"
It's a good thing I thought to lock it. I'll be damned if I'm interrupted while trying to kill myself; how could I possibly go on living after this? It's all over now! It's been done!
A loud bang makes me look up again. Followed by another, and another. Wait, is he trying to break down the door?! What the hell is he doing?! I gulp down air to try and steady my breathing, because I'm sobbing so hard I can't even talk.
"Leave...me...alone!" I scream, practically choking on my own tears.
"Don't do this!" he yells, followed by another bang. "Open the door, damnit!"
Suddenly there's a splintering crack. Aaah! The door swings open and slams against the wall, bouncing back. I scream in response, jumping against the tub. What the hell?! Mr. Schuester stands at the threshold- pausing, as if not knowing what to do, and looking completely bewildered. This definitely must be a strange sight.
"Get out of here!" I screech, automatically curling up into ball to protect myself.
These words somehow make him snap out of it, and his blank expression twists into a petrified one. "What the fuck did you do?!" he hollers. "Rachel, what did you do?!"
He stomps across the room towards me, and my heart beats so fast I think it might stop. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god-
He grabs my shoulders, yanking me up, and I scream again. What the hell is he doing?! "Don't touch me!" I scream, gasping for air, "Don't touch me!"
I feel my arms being gripped and he drags me out of the tub, my legs flailing and splashing the colored water all over the bathroom. Oh my god, I'm completely naked! I'm completely naked and the man who raped me is looking at me, touching me!
"Go away!" I howl. "Don't touch me! Leave me alone!"
I land roughly on the cold tile floor, spitting and hissing like a riled up cat. I'm just starting to regain my balance when he grabs my forearms, pulling me up. He yanks my wrists closer to his face and looks at them, his eyes wide and round. They're still dripping with blood, and my hands are drenched in it. Then his head snaps back up and he looks at me with a wavering expression.
"Why would you do this?!" he demands. "Are you fucking crazy?!"
"I just want to die!" I wail. "Can't you just let me die? I just want to die!"
He acts like he doesn't hear me, and snatches a couple of towels from the rack more forcefully than needed. I cry out when he grabs my arms, because they really hurt, and again when he presses them against my wrists. "Stop it!" I yell. I would try to pull my arms away but he's gripping my wrists with the towels and I would only end up shredding them.
"You just take everything from me, don't you?" I exclaim. "My virginity, my innocence, my dreams and passions, my will to live!" I emphasize the last part. "And now you've taken my only way out! What did I ever do to you?!"
I feel his grip loosen around my wrists. He stares at me, blinking a few times, as if he can't comprehend what I just said. "Rachel, I-"
"And it doesn't matter how many times you apologize!" I interrupt. "What you did is unforgivable! Nothing can change that!"
"I know that!" he protests. "God, of course I know that!"
Either of us don't say anything for a moment as he catches his breath and I scoot over a little to reach my discarded bath robe, which had fallen off of the hook when the door broke in. Self-consciously, I wrap it around my naked body while shooting him a dirty look. He sighs.
"Rachel, I'm not-"
"I can't know that."
More silence. We stare at each other from either sides of my bathroom, but I still feel like he's too close to me. This, the pain in my wrists, and my nausea/headache is making me extremely uncomfortable.
"You honestly think that you have nothing to live for?" he asks me. "That being raped and having a baby is actually going to stop you from your dreams? Rachel, this doesn't seem like you at all."
"Don't tell me how I should feel!" I answer stiffly. "You don't know anything!"
"But I know you!" he protests. "I know that Rachel Berry would never let anything get in her way, let alone some bastard like me and a baby!"
"Well that Rachel is dead!" I shriek. "She's dead, Will, she's dead! Can't you see that?! Why should this...this shell of a person keep going on?! Don't you see?! There's nothing left for me!"
"Don't say that!"
I'm startled by the forceful way he says this. I look back up at him again, and his eyes look wild, and his breathing is hitched.
"Don't," he repeats, hard. "It's...it's selfish, Rachel! How can you say that there's nothing left for you? If you had actually gone through with this tonight, if you had actually died, do you have any idea about what would happen? How many people would be just...completely devastated about you? You are loved, Rachel! How can you say something like that?"
I don't respond to him. Why the hell is he even here? Why did he stop me, why is he telling me all of this?! He doesn't care about me, he raped me! Why is he going through all this trouble to try and apologize, can't he just accept that what he did is irreversible?
"I don't think you need stitches," he says, breaking the silence. "How do you feel? Did you lose much blood?"
I glare at him again. "No, thanks to you," I return icily. "All I am is nauseous and I have a headache. Don't worry. I'm sure your precious illegitimate child is fine."
He looks mildly hurt. "I'm worried about you too, you know."
Liar. There's another prolonged silence, only this one is even more tense. Mostly because I refuse to look at him.
"Why'd you do it?"
The question is asked in a hollow, empty whisper. But it isn't him asking; it's me. And he doesn't question what I mean, because he knows exactly what I'm talking about. His gaze at me visibly softens in a serene kind of way, and I realize that I might finally know the reason behind all of this, the burning question that's been on my mind since the moment it happened.
I see his Adam's apple dance, his eyes wander around the room in a nervous fashion. "Rachel, I didn't mean to do it," he grimaces. "You...saw the condition I was in."
"So it wasn't because of any specific reason," my raspy voice confirms. "Just because I happened to be there?"
"Um...uh, yeah."
The way he answers makes me a little suspicious. Usually with a question like that he answers 'yes' immediately. I look straight into his face, doubt beginning to overwhelm me again. What the hell did I do? How is this my fault now?!
"There was another reason, wasn't there?" I ask quietly, to hide my shakiness. Then he looks away from me, slowly stands up from his position on the wet tile floor. It takes a long time for him to open his mouth.
"I got drunk because I knew I wanted you."
And then he's gone.
-/-
