So, that's what my father wrote, in his neat hand. He left it, labelled Lucy Charlotte Quinn Fabray. I knew that something was wrong, as he hated calling me my full name. My mother had died when I was young. I fold it back up and finish preparing myself to go on with my day but somehow I end up at Berry's House. As I sit there, contemplating my dad's letter, it hits me. That was his suicide letter. That's when the tears burst through and I run to the Berry's front door I knock hoping to god Berry answers. When the door swings open, I see a bewildered-and armed- Berry... She must be home alone again. Helps. I just break down into her arms as she softly asks what's wrong. I manage to mumble dad and suicide. She seems to get the point as she grabs my hand and leads me to the coffee machine. She knows how to calm me down. Once I'm calm I look up to see Berry wearing a whip cream moustache from her hot chocolate. It makes me laugh and I point it out to her. She goes, to wash her face probably. Oh god. She comes back... with a fake moustache that matches her hair perfectly.
After my drink she puts her (very soft, unmanly, gentle, caring) hands on my back and allows me to cry my broken little heart out. I never understood how Rachel could be so caring after all I have done to crumble her, the little star bounces right back up to be in the sky again. I don't know at what time, but I end up crying myself to sleep.
I don't know how, but I find myself curled up hugging someone warm. Yes. Lucy Charlotte Quinn Fabray is a hugger. Wow big whoop. I feel them get up, and walk out the room. I listen for while before falling back asleep. The smell of a freshly ground black coffee and soft singing under someone's breath. She, I guess, is trying not to wake me up but is at the same time, I am not as weirded out as I should be. I stretch and blindly grab my coffee. I push my head of my face to see Rachel sorting through her clothes pulling out a top that is black with a cherry saying Bite Me and a pair of dark blue jeans, while only wearing some skinny jeans. Deciding to mess with her I say "Mornin' Berry". She smiles pulling a top on. This is gonna be a long day.
You know what? I honestly think I may be in a coma. That's the only explanation. Rachel Barbra Berry is making me bacon. Just because I asked. Even though it goes against her Jewish upbringing, as well has her vegan diet. She made me more coffee and bacon. No, I must of died and gone to Heaven, though I distinctly remember a lack of pearly white gates. You see I I woke up to the smell of food and coffee. Then as I put ontje vampire bunny slippers left there for me, I hear a soft voice, singing one of my favourite songs.
Strange maze, what is this place?
I hear voices over my shoulder,
Nothing's making sense at all.
Wonder, why do we race?
When everyday we're runnin' in circles,
Such a funny way to fall.
Tried to open up my eyes,
I'm hopin' for a chance to make it alright.
When I wake up,
The dream isn't done.
I wanna see your face,
And know I made it home.
If nothing is true,
What more can I do?
I am still painting flowers for you, woah.
Show my cards,
Gave you my heart,
Wish we could start all over.
Nothing's makin' sense at all.
Tried to open up my eyes,
I'm hopin' for a chance to make it alright.
When I wake up,
The dream isn't done.
I wanna see your face,
And know I made it home.
If nothing is true,
What more can I do?
I am still painting flowers for you,
I am still painting flowers for you.
I heard everything you said,
I don't wanna lose my head,
When I wake up,
The dream isn't done.
I wanna see your face,
And know I made it home.
If nothing is true,
What more can I do?
I am still painting flowers for you,
I am still painting flowers for you,
I am still painting flowers for you.
I smile, looking at the distracted Rachel. "Sup, Berry..." I say pouring myself another coffee. Rachel smiles back and replies. "I burnt my tongue but other than that I'm good. What's put Quinn 'HBIC' Fabray in such a talkative mood?" She replies, with concern in her eyes. "Well, its talk or cry more, and I don't think I have anything but coffee to cry anymore.