For the sake of this story, Barden University is in California.

Rebury those skeletons

"So last time didn't go as well as I would have hoped." Jordan pointed out, looking over to where Beca sat.

After storming out of Sunday's therapy session, Beca had been reprimanded harshly by Westmore and although she wasn't at all intimidated by the older woman, she still had no choice but to come to the therapy session since Aubrey had been appointed to make sure that Beca arrived on time to every session.

"How has everyone been since we've last met?" she questioned and turned to her left.

"Paulie?"

"Shit, I'm an open book." She answered with a shrug.

"What has changed since two days ago?" she said out loud, placing a finger on her chin as she pretended to think of an answer.

"Oh, I started growing another weed plant since you guys took my last one."

"Dude, you have pot?" Beca asked, cheering up immediately.

Paulie smiled at her,

"Sure do." She said.

"And they won't find it this time since I planted in the last place they'd ever check." She said with a wink. Jane's hand covered her mouth as she tried to stifle a laugh.

"Jane? What have you done since the last time we met?"

Jane, who was still laughing, cleared her throat in an attempt to compose herself.

"Um…I went down to the basketball court and played basketball with the other guys. Westmore didn't like that so much though. She made me leave when she saw that I was actually playing better than most of the guys."

"That sucks. Don't you have to stay in shape for the season?" Paulie asked.

"Yeah I do, especially since I'm playing college ball this year."

Beca looked up and over at Jane from where she was playing with the bracelet Chloe had given her.

"Oh really? At what school?"

"Barden University in California."

"That's awesome man. I heard their program is one of the greatest in the nation. You must be like Larry Bird or something."

Jane blushed at the compliment, "Nah, I could never compare to Bird, but I guess I do alright."

Jordan smiled at Jane before turning to her left and asking Aubrey what she's done since the last meeting.

"I-I haven't done anything besides read my bible." She murmured, playing with one of the several rubber bands on her arms.

Jordan placed a comforting hand on Aubrey's arm.

"It's okay Aubrey. I know that I may appear as just another counselor, but I'm not here to hurt you, only help. Are you still keeping your journal?"

Aubrey didn't look up, "Rule number 17: maintaining any personal journals is strictly forbidden and will result in a level 2 consequence."

Everyone watched Aubrey state the rule and Beca couldn't help but feel somewhat bad for her. It was like her life was dictated by rules and regulations. No wonder she was so wound up.

Nonetheless, Aubrey's statement intrigued Beca greatly since she was sure that red journal Aubrey was so fond of writing in was a journal.

"Okay. Well how have you been coping since you finally admitted Amanda's death wasn't your fault?" Jordan asked, somewhat resorting to desperate measures to get Aubrey to talk.

Aubrey looked up through red puffy eyes.

"I—I don't want to talk about it." She quipped before bowing her head once again. Today was a particularly hard day for her and the usual aura of confidence she exuded was absent. She pulled the elastic band around her wrist as far back as it would go before releasing it, sighing as it slammed back to her skin. She welcomed the pain that ran up her arm, if only for a second. The pain never lasted long enough to replace the sadness, though.

The sight of it caused Beca to flinch. She continued to watch Aubrey as Jordan went around the rest of the circle, noticing how the blonde tried to discreetly wipe at the tears falling from her eyes. She was crying and this much was obvious to anyone that bothered to pay attention to her but Beca couldn't figure out why. It was clear that Jordan asking about this girl, Amanda, had set Aubrey off but everyone was carrying on like she wasn't nearly breaking down in front of them.

"Dude, are you alright?" she asked, surprising everyone since she had been quiet from the time they arrived.

Aubrey looked up at her through red eyes, wiping at them to hide her anguish.

"Yes, I am. I am just tired is all." She responded. Beca raised an eyebrow, not believing the blonde.

Jordan turned her attention back to Aubrey.

"Are you still having nightmares?" she asked. Beca turned her head to look at the therapist. Aubrey was having nightmares? That might explain the crying in her sleep from the night before.

"Y-yes." She sobbed, nearly choking on her tears in an attempt not to cry in front of this group of people since she knew that it would soon become the hot topic of everyone at the camp. The sight of this only enraged Beca. No, she didn't care for the blonde, she could even go as far to say she slightly hated her, but she didn't deserve to be ignored like this when she was in evident pain. Beca knew too much how bad that felt to feel that no one cared about the tears you shed.

"Do you think that—" Jordan began only to be interrupted by an angry Beca.

"How about you ask her if she's alright?" she yelled. Everyone turned to look at Beca, most of their eyebrows raised in confusion, wondering why she even bothered to care about her roommate.

"Beca, it isn't an appropriate time to address Aubrey's problems. We can talk about them in her private session."

Beca rolled her eyes and pointed at Aubrey who was still trying to stifle sobs.

"Okay, I understand that, but it's so fucking obvious that she's not ok and you're just going to ignore her and continue with you questions like she's a fucking bowl of sunshine?"

"Like I said—"

"Yeah, I heard you the first time, 'it's not appropriate.'" She retorted, crossing her hands across her chest. She couldn't believe what was going on. One minute Jordan was pretending to care and the next she's as fucking indifferent as if she were a complete stranger to them.

Beca slouched in her chair, ready to tune out the rest of the session. She stole several glances at the blonde who would meet her eye every time before averting her gaze elsewhere.

"So today's session is going to focus on the root causes of your homosexuality. It has been proven that a child's relationship with their parents greatly affect their choices later in life including their choice to identify as gay or lesbian."

Beca snorted loudly at this in contempt.

"Is there something you'd like to add, Beca?" Jordan asked with slight annoyance

"I think this is a crock of bullshit. You think we chose this?" she asked angrily.

She could see several people shaking their heads in agreement.

"You're right, Beca. I would have never chosen this if I had the option." Jane added.

"Do you all feel this way?" Jordan looked around the circle and saw several people shake their head.

"I know I definitely wouldn't have chosen this for my life." Aubrey said quietly. Beca looked up from her sneakers to listen to the blonde who had stopped crying, but the evidence still remained.

"It's been nothing but one heartache after another. Being—being this way has done nothing but made my life so much harder and caused me so much pain."

"Do you wish you could change?" Jordan questioned as she wrote several things on her notepad.

"I want nothing more." Aubrey whispered, reaching down to pull her rubber band again.

"Even if it means changing who you are?" Beca asked suddenly. Aubrey looked over at her and they held each other's gaze for several seconds before Jordan interrupted them.

"Well, what if I said the choice to identify as homosexual may not have been a conscious choice, but a subconscious choice made as your psyche's way of adapting to past experiences?" When she saw she was receiving many confused faces she continued.

"Let's say you were sexually molested by your male neighbor at a young age. Your mind has now adapted and told itself that men are now a threat forcing you to look to women for companionship…" she explained, glancing over at Beca, who in turned rolled her eyes.

There was no way the older woman knew anything about her so that statement wasn't directed towards her.

"This catalyst doesn't only have to come in the form of sexual assault; it can be a bad relationship with a parent, or another traumatic experience as a child."

"Cynthia Rose, what is your relationship like with your parents?"

"Um, it's alright I guess. They were pretty cool until they found out about Stacey. Although, I'm still debating if they don't like her because she's a girl or white."

"Who's Stacey?" Paulie asked.

"She's my girlfriend."

"Is? You guys are still together?"

"Yup. She's away at school now. She had to start early as a stipulation for her scholarship and after I finish here I'm heading out west to start school with her." Cynthia Rose explained.

Beca had to stop herself from rolling her eyes in jealousy. She found herself envying what Jane and Cynthia Rose had. Their girlfriends were willing to fight for them. Why couldn't Chloe do that? Why did she give up so easily? Why couldn't she fight for Beca the way Beca had fought for her?

Beca?" Jordan called for the second time. Beca looked over to the therapist through slanted eyes.

"What?" she said angrily.

"How's your relationship with your parents?"

Beca rolled her eyes. There was no way she was going to tell this woman the smallest thing about her life back at home. So what if she had a bad relationship with both of her parents and so what she may or may not have experienced a traumatic situation when she was younger, that has nothing to do with what she felt for Chloe. What they felt was real and nothing would change the sanctity of their relationship.

"What does it matter?"

"Beca, you have to participate if you want to get better."

"Too bad I'm not sick." She retorted.

Jordan ignored her response and continued with her questions.

"Your mother remarried when you were seven and you never knew your father. How did that feel growing up?"

"It was fine." She mumbled but Jordan wasn't satisfied with her answer.

"It couldn't have been that great since you were expelled from three schools between second and twelfth grade. You've been in the hospital for 13 broken bones including you tailbone and your arm 4 times."

Beca looked at the therapist through enraged red eyes. How dare she expose her personal business like that? She stood up and walked to the door.

"Fuck off. I'm not going to let you analyze me like I'm some mental patient." She said, slamming the door behind her not caring about the consequence of walking out of yet another session. She walked back to her room, wishing she could find a way out of this hell hole. She'd give it another week before she called Unicycle and he came down there to get her. One week. Just one week and she was out of here.

She flopped down on her bed not bothering to even kick off her shoes or take off her jacket. She laid there, one hand under her head and the other draped over her stomach, thinking about nothing in particular and humming to herself. Naturally her thoughts went back to that sorry excuse for a therapy session and she couldn't help remember how helpless Aubrey looked sitting in that chair hurting herself with that rubber band in plain sight. Soon enough her humming began to transform into words, transforming into audial form from the pictures in her head. She found herself singing words to herself and they began to form lyrics to a song.

Going nowhere, going nowhere
Their tears are filling up their glasses
No expression, no expression
Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow
No tomorrow, no tomorrow

Scrambling out of her bed before she lost the words, she quickly grabbed her song book from where she kept it hidden under her bed. She rummaged through her drawer for a pen but couldn't find one. She had seen Aubrey writing in a red journal on several occasions so she knew she must have had one. Getting up, she walked over to Aubrey's side of the room and looked on her desk for a pen.

"Dammit. I need to get this down before I lose it." She mumbled. Walking the short distance to Aubrey's side table drawer, she pulled open the top drawer in search of something to write with. She'd take a crayon at this point.

Her eyes caught sight of that red journal Aubrey was always writing in. When she picked it up to see if a pen rested in it, a small metal bookmark fell to the ground. Confused, she picked it up and examined it nearly cutting herself in the process.

"Shit." She whispered, her fingering going to her mouth in an attempt to stop the blood. Why in the hell would Aubrey keep something so dangerous in her journal?

Opening the red journal, she went to replace the bookmark when her eyes caught sight of blood spatters on one of the pages. She opened the book further and that's when she realized that Aubrey kept poetry in the book. Beca was quite amused at this realization. She never took Aubrey for the artistic, brooding type.

She allowed herself to skim over several of the pages, reading some of the lines of the poems Aubrey wrote. On some pages there were more blood droplets while others were clean.

Under her ebony satin shirt,

Unbuttoned to expose her smooth stomach,

My eyes journey slowly down,

Beneath her black leather pants

My mind imagines

Roams her scent with animal instinct.

She looked up at the door to make sure Aubrey wasn't there before continuing down the page.

Fueled by obsession's taste for more

I finally get up the courage

Risk rejection

Accept the possibility

Give up the responsibility of being required to be

sacrifice it all to feel like a woman

Her woman

Beca had to admit, the poetry was actually really good and the more she read the more she could tell how much pain Aubrey was in writing it, especially if the amount of blood on the pages was any indication. Not wanting to get caught going through Aubrey's things lest she face the wrath of the blonde, she replaced the bookmark before putting the journal back. Just as she closed the drawer, the door to the room opened and an obviously still upset Aubrey looked over to her, her eyes slanting in anger.

"What are you doing by my bed?" she asked.

Beca looked up trying not to look like she was guilty of something.

"I was just looking for a pen." She answered.

Aubrey stormed over to her, reaching into a yellow cup by her lamp that Beca evidently looked over, and handed her a pen.

"Do not go through my things without my permission again." She reprimanded. Beca smirked at her before raising her hands in defeat.

"Dude sorry. It's just a dresser drawer not a safe. But whatever, I won't go through your things again." She responded, flopping onto her bed with the pen now in hand, prepared to write down her song lyrics before she forgot them.

Luckily for her, she hadn't forgotten the words and after a couple of hours in silence she managed to complete an entire song, although she hadn't been able to name it. That didn't matter anyway since she didn't like to rush the names. They should come naturally and she would let the title of this song come to her in time.

She glanced over at her roommate who was sitting on her bed reading what appeared to be a bible. Beca adjusted herself on her bed to a more comfortable position and looked over at Aubrey, watching as she mouthed scripture to herself and popped the rubber band on her wrist.

"Why do you do that?" she asked suddenly. Aubrey looked over to her through glassy eyes. She looked down at her rubber band and the large welts it left on her wrist before returning her eyes to Beca.

"Because it is reminder of the pain of having homosexual thoughts." That was all she said before returning to her bible.

Beca turned back to her song book not sure how to respond to what Aubrey had said.

"Well, do you mind if I play some music?"

Aubrey looked up again.

"I won't agree to breaking rules."

Beca rolled her eyes before reaching over to hit play on her radio. It was amazing how Janis Joplin was able to make any bad day seem better for her.

She returned to her song book, rereading the lyrics she wrote wishing she had her guitar to hear how they sounded to music. Sighing, she turned the page and began to write out chords for her untitled song.

'Maybe an E minor and then…maybe G? Yeah that'll work'

Beca glanced over at Aubrey again to see if she was still hurting herself with her rubber band and that's when she saw what was happening right next to her. Aubrey was crying. Beca couldn't hear a thing, but she could see the tears that ran out of her big, green eyes and fell down onto her red sweater. She was staring down at her bible, but her eyes had that cold, distant look of someone whose mind was far away. Aubrey was crying right in front of Beca, silently, as if she didn't want to disturb her. Beca opened her mouth, plagued with indecision over whether or not to say something, when the door knob turned.

The door to their room opened suddenly and standing there was Cynthia Rose and Benji.

"Hey, wassup?" she said breaking her attention away from Aubrey, who turned on her bed away from the door.

"They're re-airing Metallica's Damage Tour on MTV. I thought you might want to see it." Benji explained excitedly. Beca smiled at him before shoving her song book back under her mattress. She turned off her radio and jumped off her bed to join them by the door. Cynthia Rose and Benji walked into the hallway and Beca prepared to follow them out when she looked back at Aubrey, considering inviting her with them since she had such a rough day. Aubrey wiped at her eyes several times and her body shook as sobs consume her. For a moment, Beca thought about staying behind, seeing if Aubrey was alright but she soon decided against it, closing the door behind her.

What the hell is wrong with you Beca? You don't even like her.