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A.N: This is not the next chapter. This is an interlude from Rachel's point of view.

I needed to write this. I had to know how it happened. So... Fair warning, this might hurt for some of you.

(The First Time around)

Monday January 17, 2011

7:02 A.M.

Rachel hurried through the empty school towards the choir room. She was needed to finish the arrangement for the song Mercedes was singing before lunch so her fellow diva would have time to look it over. A few minor adjustments to the song were all it would take for Mercedes' voice to really shine.

Rachel's rolling bag hit an uneven place in the cheap linoleum and flipped. She bent to right the bag just as the bang of a locker was heard just around the corner. She tensed. The only people at the school this early were cheerios and she couldn't count any of them as friends.

She considered turning and going back to her car and waiting. A moment later she mentally scolded herself. Cheerios, minions of a crazy lady or not were still her peers. There was little they could really do. She was not a coward.

Coward or not her decision to flee was taken out of her hands as the source of the noise rounded the corner.

Her whole back bunched as she came face to face with David Karofsky and two sophomore cheerios whose names she had yet to learn.

David's lip curled up into a sneer as he peered down at her. Normally Rachel would have wished him a good morning but the hairs on the back of her neck told her to move along as quickly as she could. The little voice that most people didn't listen to was screaming.

She hurried past the three teens but faltered as David's harsh voice cut through the silence of the hall, "No hello Faglet?"

Rachel whirled as her instinctive need to defend her fathers kicked in before she could censor herself, "That nickname is highly offensive David! Your homophobic tendencies continue to concern me."

He sneered at her, "I'll call you whatever I want freak."

She snapped back as she drew closer, "I simply want to get to the choir room David. Please allow me to continue on my way."

The brunette cheerio giggled meanly, "I think we should tie her to the flag pole. No one is here."

Rachel opened her mouth to reply but was cut off by David, "Too much work. I say we just shut that big mouth of hers so I don't have to listen to her yap."

The other cheerio, a taller redhead, who had been silent, piped up "How?"

David took a threatening step forward and smiled like a shark, "Duct tape."

The red head looked confused, "Won't she just take it off?"

The brunette rolled her eyes, "Not if we tie her up."

As the three teens discussed their plan Rachel made a break for it, trying to lunge past them to the safety of the choir room that was just around the corner.

The brunette cheerio collared her and yanked her back and towards the girls' restroom.

Karofsky clapped his hands eagerly, "I'll get the tape from my locker."

What followed was what would be the single most violent encounter of Rachel's young life. Their hands were rough and cold as they shoved her to the floor and bound her feet and hands as she shrieked at the top of her very powerful voice until one of the cheerios slapped a strip of the silver tape across her mouth, covering it entirely with a portion of her nose. Rachel stilled as getting air suddenly became difficult.

David let out a sigh of what Rachel would describe as pleasure, "So much better than listening to her scream." He turned away from the bound diva and preceded the cheerios from the stall.

The red headed cheerio hesitated at the stall door, "What if she's here all day?"

The brunette shut the stall door, locked it from the inside and spoke as she shimmied under, "We'll leave her backpack outside of the stall. Someone will find it and let her loose."

The red head shook her head, "I'm rethinking this Sara. We could get in serious trouble."

The brunette, Sara, rolled her eyes, "What's Figgins gonna do? It's our word against hers Isobel. Three vs. one."

Sara considered that before relaxing slightly and turning to the mirror to fix her hair. Rachel could fight like a wild cat when backed into a corner as evidenced by their mussed hair. David bumped fists with Sara and sauntered out of the bathroom. A minute later the two girls followed him leaving Rachel alone on the filthy floor struggling to breathe.

8:02 A.M.

Rachel hated this particular bathroom. Of all the restrooms to tie her up and leave her in the Neanderthal and his air headed bimbos had picked the one restroom where the toilets never worked. It was seldom if ever used and as Rachel felt the catch in her chest yet again she felt the chill of fear that skittered across her spine grow.

She was starting to wheeze now as she fought to suck air through the one unobstructed nostril she had left. Her deviated septum made itself known as she felt herself grow a little lightheaded from oxygen deprivation. She fought the instinctual wave of panic that welled and willed herself to take longer deeper breaths. She fought the wheeze and the urge to cough as she sucked as much air into her swelling lungs as she could.

The lightheaded feeling cleared a bit and Rachel took the reprieve as a chance to wiggle her numbed fingers and tried to shift her position so that she was sitting up. She could breathe better if she was sitting up and took some of the pressure off her lungs. Her hands and feet were bound so tight though that she couldn't get the leverage to squirm her way into a sitting position, rather she flopped about like a fish who was suffocating on dry land, and what a fitting metaphor that was. After nearly two minutes of desperate thrashing Rachel's felt the results of the fruitless exertion as her chest grew even tighter, she couldn't sit up and she couldn't wriggle herself to the door, it was too far, and the more she struggled the faster she might pass out. She stopped moving again and worked on breathing. She didn't let herself consider that the light headed feeling was creeping back.

8:27 A.M.

Through the growing fog Rachel heard the sound of her salvation as the door to the bathroom swung open and someone entered. Rachel took a deep breath which wasn't very deep and tried to yell through her gag. She couldn't see feet which meant her clueless savior was near the door.

Through the tape she tried to yell 'help' but it came out muffled and indiscernible. Rachel's eyes welled at the volume. She couldn't project enough to alert whoever was by the first sink.

"Rachel?"

Rachel's eyes widened hopefully, her back pack! It was Kurt. He must have seen the bag.

"Rachel? You ok?" Kurt's voice was mildly worried and Rachel tried to shout through her gag.

'No!' and 'Kurt! Help!' but the words were muffled and weak and he didn't hear. Her only hope was the bag. They had 2nd period together, he'd grab the bag to take it to her and she would put everything into making him hear her.

What if he doesn't get the bag? She stamped the thought down. Kurt was her friend. He'd help her.

"Rach?" Kurt's voice had lost his worried edge.

Rachel drew breaths and prepared for him to walk to the stall. She heard a scoff and a few seconds later the bell rang.

Rachel's chest constricted in panic, he had to grab the bag! 'HEEEEEELP! PLEASE KURT! DON'T LEAVE ME! KUUUURRT!' The door was already open though and the sounds bustling hallway drowned out the muffled screams she had managed. The door swung shut and she was alone again.

Tears fell unchecked, heedless of the fact that it might congest her nose, as the flash of pink mocked her from just outside the stall.

8:52 A.M.

Her breaths were shallow now. Her body was limp, the struggle gone from her. Her eyes were locked on the flash of pink in the corner of her eyesight. Her head, though foggy, didn't hurt. She knew lack of oxygen could impair brain function and she was pretty sure that might be where she was headed. Her tears had stopped just a moment ago but the damage was done. Her nose was clogged and the air she could get wasn't absorbing into her lungs. They were swollen and inflamed. She needed the inhaler in the bag just beyond the door. It still mocked her.

9:05 A.M.

She saw on Oprah once that humans were the only creature on earth that would willingly share space with another creature that scared them. She wasn't a coward she realized. She was just stupid.

9:06 A.M.

She wondered if Artie had brought the camera she needed to borrow.

9:07 A.M.

Her fingers were completely numb now and her hip hurt. This was completely unacceptable.

9:08 A.M.

She wondered if her dads would be ok. She hoped so. Maybe her grandpa Howard would finally talk to her daddy Philip. After all, dead grandkid trumped gay son.

9:09 A.M.

She wasn't going to be able to stop Mr. Schue from doing 80's rock at Regionals.

9:10 A.M.

Oh god Finn… and Noah. Oh Noah…

9:11 A.M.

"You have a really pretty voice. Like an angel." The pretty blonde girl smiled shyly at the little brunette.

Rachel Berry beamed proudly, "Thank you! I was afraid no one would appreciate my voice here in Ohio."

The pretty blonde held out her hand and said bashfully, "I'm Quinn. Quinn Fabray."

Rachel ducked her head, suddenly shy herself, and accepted the handshake "My name is Rachel Berry."

It was still the nicest thing anyone had ever said to her. She just wished it hadn't been followed by a slushy to the face the next day.

9:12 A.M.

Her breathing stuttered.

9:13 A.M.

She could hear her blood rushing in her head now.

9:14 A.M.

She could actually her hear her heart beat thundering in her ears. Stuttering like Tina used to.

9:15 A.M.

That was mean. Tina was her friend. She scoffed mentally. Like Kurt was your friend Rachel?

9:16 A.M.

…

9:17 A.M.

She snapped her eyes open or tried to. It was foggier than before. Her thoughts were stuttering now.

9:18 A.M.

She was going to pass out. Any moment now she was going pass out and she wouldn't wake up.

9:19 A.M.

Now I lay be down to sleep, I… … I pray the lord my soul to keep. If… If I should die before I wake…

9:20 A.M.

I… pray the lo… rd my soul to ta…

9:27 A.M.

The still girl lay alone on the floor. The Star of David glinting from her chest drew the eye to the almost imperceptible stutter of her chest as it rose and fell.

9:31 A.M.

Beneath the tape her lips were blue.

9:32 A.M.

Her only company, the pink bag she had begged her fathers for.

9:33 A.M.

A faucet dripped.

9:34 A.M.

The stuttering of her heart beat grew less constant. Slower and slower it beat.

9:35 A.M.

No one stuttered at all anymore.

9:36 A.M.

... … … … …

9:37 A.M.

Alone now, the ugly pink bag stood witness to the sin of indifference.

If you didn't read the author's note I apologize if this was hard.

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