She stood by the sink, staring at the now broken mirror, letting the blood slowly drip off her hand and onto the floor. The clean, shining, white tile now tainted by red.
In a way, that's how Rachel Berry had felt. A clean white surface, now tainted by hatred, bullying, and pure dissatisfaction with her life.
Suddenly she heard a bathroom stall close. In the cracked reflection she saw none other than Quinn Fabray and Santana Lopez walking out from behind her, She quickly grabbed a few paper towels, and tried to run out.
Santana looked embarrassed, but Quinn cornered her in the bathroom. "Where do you think you're going man-hands?"
"To Science class. I have a report due soon."
Santana piped from behind her. "Did you crack the mirror out of stress or something. Or were you hoping your nose would shrink in the mirror?" Quinn and Santana started cackling.
"Really, it was an accident, I just accidentally hit my hand on the mirror. I guess they haven't replaced them in a while, it just crumbled."
"Fine then. See you at glee club man-hands."
"I guess I'll see you later Quinn."
The bell rang, and Rachel quickly slipped from under Quinn's arm.
"Hopefully she doesn't tell any of her loser friends she saw us in here." Santana said, looking at Quinn.
"Our reputations would totally be ruined."
"Totally."
They walked side by side out of the bathroom, quickly splitting up.
Rachel quickly speed walked into glee rehearsal, spotting an empty seat in the farthest corner from Quinn.
Mr. Schuester quickly walked in, writing regionals on the bored, and turning around to grin at the students.
"Alright guys! You totally rocked sectionals, but we haft to really crack down if we wanna win regionals!"
Rachel raised her hand. "Mr. Schuester, I was wondering if I could get a solo for this competition, since I didn't get one at sectionals."
"Diva, how many times have I told you, you are not the star of this club, clearly I am." Kurt argued.
"Me and Kurt should do a duet together, I'm thinking another Madonna number, but with more lights, maybe more backup dancers." Mercedes spoke.
"Kurt, Mercedes, thats a great idea. Maybe we can give Tina a lead in the group number, since we do need to change it up and everything." Mr Schuester quickly wrote the words Madonna, Kurt and Mercedes, and Duet on the white bored, followed by Tina lead group number. Everyone nodded in agreement except Rachel.
"But Mr. Schueste-"
"Rachel, we need to have more diversity this year. Last year you got a solo, so now we're switching it up."
"Kurt and Mercedes got a duet last performance! You promised me a solo!"
"Rachel this is totally disrespectful to Kurt and Mercedes, you should be cheering your fellow classmates on, like they've always done to you."
"Yea Rachel." Quinn added.
"Who's Rachel?" Brittany spoke, grabbing looks from the rest of the room.
Rachel got up, grabbing her book bag, and storming out of the choir room.
Rachel had big dreams at one point, dreams of becoming a broadway star, dreams of winning a tony. But they all got crumbled the second she didn't get a solo for sectionals. She couldn't let go of it. It was like everything she had ever been ridiculed for suddenly came true, suddenly she wasn't the star anymore, suddenly she was the background dancer.
She ran home, tears streaming down her face as rain poured down, drenching her, and the bandage that was now present on her hand. She thanked god for living only a few miles from school.
She soon arrived at her house, staring at the outside of it.
She had been egged for the fourth time.
It didn't help that she was a vegan, and it certainly didn't help that she didn't really wanna scrape dead baby chicks off of her walls. It was usually embarrassing, as soon the jocks would come by to taunt her for trying to keep her lawn clean.
Oh well she thought, unlocking her front door, and stepping inside. Her dads were still at work, usually not home until incredibly late. She stepped upstairs into her room, going into her bathroom.
She walked inside of her bathroom, grabbing the small blade she had stashed under her sink. She began dragging it over her skin, making slashes of red. When she first started the habit, it was painful, and she'd barely ever do it. But as the bullying, and her numbness progressed, she began doing it more often, She just wanted to feel something, just to show some of the old Rachel Berry was there, the one with dreams.
She never felt anything anymore. It was more to see the pain she was feeling. Deeper cuts were on worse days, shallow being on better. Either way they were all marked, every painful experience, every taunt, everything. Rachel Berry was one to keep records, she took notes, and wrote down events. Her own skin was a personal calendar.
She began to take a paper towel, and stroke her tiles, now covered in blood. She was so over life. No more broadway, no more dreams. She knew it would never happen. Suddenly she had an urge to do something. Something that would make people scream, something they'd talk about in the news. Something big.
An idea came to mind, a very grim idea, an idea that would for sure get her dads crying, her bullies crying, and it would get her out of the one thing she had hated more than anything. Herself.
She wanted to dress up for this, she wanted to look ornate, like she had given a shit after all this.
She began by turning on the shower, and unwrapping her bandages. She looked in the mirror, staring at the broken face, the one that had once been full of starlight and passion.
She turned away from the mirror as fast as possible, undressing, and getting in the shower to let the hot water envelope her. She felt a slight burn in her hand as she began to use her nicest shampoo.
At first, thinking about what would happen was easy. But as her shower began to end, she started feeling stressed, feeling anxiety. What would her fathers do, what would her few friends do.
She stepped out of the shower, grabbing her blow dryer and hair product. What would her bullies think? What would the glee club think.
She ran a brush through her hair. What would the school do? Would anyone really care, or would they be happy she was finally gone.
She finished combing her hair, beginning to blow dry it. One thing came to mind at this point, one thing only.
How would she do it?
She began to think of the options. The routine ones came to mind, overdosing on pain killers, slitting her wrists. What would get her on the news, how would people know her name.
Jumping off the Lima water tower would for sure get her name around.
She looked into the mirror, looking at her now freshly cleaned and dried hair. She wanted to dress up, after all this would be her final moments of life. She wanted to look great, like the world hadn't worn her down to this point.
She found her sectionals dress from the performance just days before. She slid on the dress effortlessly, running back to her mirror. She looked nearly flawless, besides the small eyebags.
This would get the glee clubs attention. A star dying in there dress. The dress. The dress that showed she wasn't a star. The dress she wore while swaying in the background.
She began to put on make up, trying to mask her pain. She put on concealer under her eyes, and pink lipstick that had somehow managed to match her dress.
She was perfect.
She began to look for the perfect shoes, finally settling on black flats. She then ran back to the mirror for the second time, deciding this was the time. She was ready. She turned around, walking out of her bathroom, walking down the stairs, and walking right out the front door, past the wet eggs. It had stopped raining since, clouds clearing up.
She walked around her neighborhood a bit, taking it in for the last time. She walked right past the sign, turning left. Only a few blocks left.
She got increasingly nervous as the water tower began to cloud the distance. Tears began falling down her face. She had really come to this point.
When she got there, she had nearly quivered in fear at the tallness of the tower.
She began to climb up, taking extra caution to not ruin her stockings, or her shoes .As she crowned the top, she looked down, immediately regretting that decision as she slipped, nearly falling.
She realized that falling was her goal. She kept climbing.
She hit the metal flooring, beginning to grasp onto the railing. It was much taller than she thought. She climbed onto the first rail of the railing, looking down. It was a beautiful place to fall. The sun was finally beginning to shine, shining down on the fields of trees and houses. She just mourned the person who would discover her down there. Dead.
She climbed up to the very top, stepping over and putting her legs on the first railing, but on the outside. She was really going to do this. What really was shocking was, she was completely okay with it.
She had failed to notice the man climbing up the water tower, up until this point. He had reached the top and noticed her climbing over. He quickly walked over to her, trying to pull her back from over the edge.
"What the hell are you doing?" He grasped her waist, and finally succeeded with pulling her over.
"STOP!" She shouted, trying to wiggle out of his grip.
He held her tighter. "I'm not letting go of you! Stop trying!"
She began to give up, settling in his grasp. "Can you at least let me go."
"Not until I know your not gonna run back over to that fucking rail and just jump right over it."
She went silent.
"What the fuck were you trying to do?"
"Kill myself!"
"Why!?"
"I'm not going to tell a complete stranger deep personal stuff!"
"But you can kill yourself in front of me!"
"I didn't even know you were there!"
"What's your name."
"What?"
"I wanna know your name."
"Rachel Berry. And why do you want to know?"
"Well Rachel, I have no idea why someone as hot as you would try to jump off the fucking water tower."
"No one else thinks I'm hot. And what is your name."
"Noah Puckerman."
"Why does your name sound familiar? I swear I've heard it somewhere."
"I've been around."
"As in, making love with a lot of people?"
"Making love? What are you a girl?"
"Yes."
"Good point. Anyways, I also happen to be a leader of the biggest cult in Lima."
She jumped. "Your the leader of a CULT?"
"It's not religious. People just think I'm like, a god. Which I am."
"Your not a god."
"No sex god maybe, but no shit. I'm not a god."
"And you managed to convince hundreds of people that you're some kind of god."
"Who can also speak to aliens. Its all totally badass."
"I'm concerned for the intelligence of your followers."
"Yea well." His grasp began to loosen on her, so she began to climb out, turning around at him. She then saw his face for the first time. He had what seemed to be a mohawk, and not only this, but he was incredibly handsome.
"Enough about me, why the fuck were you trying to kill yourself." He stood up, staring back at her.
"Again thats deep personal stuff, but since you told me your a cult leader, I guess I'll share my secret. Nobody cares about me, and I'm a total loser. Not even my fellow glee clubbers care anymore. I figured I'd be better off dead, which I would. If you hadn't of stopped me, I'd be in heaven, and I'd be happy. I could even meet some old broadway legends."
He sighed. "What is a glee club?"
"I tell you my deepest, darkest secret, and all you can takeaway is the words glee club." She turned around trying to climb back up the railing.
"Stop!" His hands grasped back around her waist, but this time it felt personal almost. Like he now knew her.
"Its like a choir, people singing and stuff."
"I can sing."
"Really?" Her eyes lit up.
"Yea, but I haven't sung since the cult started. Its just not the way we do things."
"Thats a real shame."
"Yea well. Why don't we get the hell off of this thing, before we pull a Kelso, and fall off the water tower."
"Who's Kelso? And can you stop using crude language."
"First of all, Kelso is a character from that 70s show, a totally badass show. Second of all, I won't turn down my language."
She rolled her eyes. "Can I still jump off of this water tower."
"No. I'll drag you down if I haft to."
She laughed. "Fine, I guess I'll come back another time. So much for dressing up."
"I noticed that. Why?"
"I wanted to look nice. This is the dress from my glee club's last performance, I wanted it to mean something."
"Like a big "fuck you all" to them?"
"Not that crude but, yes." She began to climb down faster, now not caring if she ruined an item of clothing.
"Well, if its worth anything, you look pretty damn nice." He smirked at her, enjoying the view down from the top of the water tower.
"Your such a pervert. Just climb down."
He started climbing down. Soon they were at the ground together.
"Where now?" He said, rubbing his head.
"I don't know, it was your idea to get down."
"Lets go to the diner. I'll explain some of my killer backstory, and explain how I became a cult leader, and why I was up on that damn water tower."
"Then I'll explain why I have this cut on my hand."
"Sounds good."
"Do you have a car? I walked here and I need a ride there."
"Sure. Can't leave a chick to walk, can I?"
They walked to the street getting into his car. It didn't even cross either of there minds that they were getting into a car with a total stranger. That could wait.