Warning: major bashing, if you are a Mercedes fan (yeah I ruined it) skip this one.


Closer to the end now, my heart beats faster as I write these words, my head pounds with the memories that swell up, streaming past my eyes. Every one of you pops up, every one of you mean something to me, or meant, I guess I should say. The few left I cared for something about you, one thing made me smile when I thought of you, although, I doubt you could say the same thing for me. One of you, maybe more than one, I can say with absolute conviction, didn't care about me and this letter won't change your view, while it Mercedes?

Excluding Santana, you were the absolute worst to me. I know, you are probably wondering, why not Quinn, who tried to make my life miserable and helped Santana every chance she could get? Why the poor misunderstood diva who had to stand in the background as her undeniable talent was once more looked over in favor for another girl, who didn't have half your talent? Simple really, Quinn never really pretended to care, and when I helped her, she managed to lay off for a few days before resuming the hatred.

You on the other hand, took whatever I gave you and threw it back in my face. Viciously. You didn't care if you made me cry, you merely told everyone that I was 'acting' or being a 'diva'. You didn't care when I worked myself half to death for a solo, you complained to anyone that could hear you that I'd stolen it from you and Mr. Schuester gave it to me just 'cause. You threw me under the bus, got in, and drove over me. Then back again. And laughed all the way home.

You enjoyed it, tearing me down, destroying me. Even when I was on the verge, and the whole glee club knew it, you would open your mouth and speak the words that would throw me off the cliff. Then you would complain to everyone that I was 'overacting' or hurting you. I was being mean to you, I was picking on you, the whole world was unfair to you. Everything was about you, you, you. That's why you've never had a boyfriend, that's why you will always be alone. It has nothing to do with you having a full figure, because you are beautiful.

It's because all of your love is conserved for yourself and there isn't enough for anyone else to squeeze by. It's impossible for anyone to love you because you are the world's most self-centered person, the biggest – excuse me – bitch the world has ever seen. And you could care less, as long as at the end of the day, you are able to take the blame of yourself and put it onto someone else. Leave someone else to deal with your messes, you had something better to and God knows you are incapable of making a wrong, so it was obviously the other person's fault and therefore, their responsibility.

I have no love for you, hating you would be too kind; I despise you, Mercedes, and everything you stood for. To me, you were the person who would smile sweetly as you stabbed me through the back and then shoved the knife to Santana. Half the things everyone thought Santana and Quinn did, you were involved in. I hope these words haunt you for the rest of your life, I hope that in every darkened corner you see the girl you forced into it, I hope in every song you sing, you hear the voice you silenced, I hope you blame yourself for the rest of your life, because you hurt me in such ways no one else on this list would have even dreamed of in a nightmare.

Because, Mercedes, you told the school that horrible rumor. And all the ones following it were caused by you. You know what I'm talking about, that whisper you made, half joking, probably drunk, when you were angry that you were passed by again in glee club. You can deny it, you can say I'm lying, no one would dare believe me over you, you certainly made sure of that. After all, Mercedes Jones tells it like it is, she would never lie. But I'm not lying, I've never lied to any of you, I never will either. These words are my last testament, my truths to live on this world of imperfection and misery before I descend to wherever lies beyond this hell hole.

You told the school I was sleeping with Mr. Schuester and that's why I got the solos. You told the school the only reason some 'half-strung slut without the talent to serenade a drunken blind man' was because I had talents that resided less on the vocals of my mouth and on something much more physical. I'll never forget that moment when the school all huddled against me and whispered 'skank' as I walked by.

I'll never forget the moment when I was called into the office for 'serious allegations' that were brought to the attention of the school. The humiliation, the horror when all of your hard work was put to question because of some rumor that I was using my mouth for a solo show in the back of the Spanish room with the door locked and the blinds closed.

I'll never forget the moment when I walked blindly through the hallways trying not to cry and found the guidance counselor's door locked, a small hand-written sign in a shaking hand saying they were out even when I could clearly see the woman behind it, sitting at her desk with the lights off and blinds half drawn.

I'll never forget the moment that my last confident, the one woman that I could spill my heart to without fear of retribution ignored the pounding on her door and turned her face as if I was something disgusting to look at. I'll never forget when my life shattered so completely, when even my boyfriend wouldn't look me in the eye.

I'll never forget the day that our mutual friend of the time came to my house nervous and shaking, saying sorry before I even had time to greet him, and spilling it all to me. I'll never forget closing the door on him, shaking and sliding to the floor as he pounded on the door, crying for me to open up, begging for my forgiveness. I'll never forget the crushing silence that waked after his leaving, or the tears that slid down as I sat in the darkening foyer, wondering when my life had taken such a dark twist. I'll never forget the first night I dreamed of suicide, although I assure you, it wasn't the last.

And I'll never forget the woman who caused all of it, whose words created a hole in my already deep pit, the woman who ruined my already shattered life. Congratulations Mercedes, you've completed your life-long goal. Never again will you be overlooked in the choir room, never again will a solo be passed through you and to another, less-deserving, person. Never again, will you see my face, which despise so, crowding your hallways. Never again will I be in that choir room, watching you in the back as I bask in the spot light.

I just hope you can still bring yourself to sing, after this. I hope that you can find solace in the voice you've been given, knowing that to showcase yours, you silenced another's. I hope you can live with yourself, knowing that you killed another person. If you can't, that's fine by me, it's not I will be around anymore. Find someone else to blame, Mercedes, because you can never touch me again. Goodbye and good riddance.


Not my best, I think this could have been better, but I wanted it up early because the next two days I won't be able to write (FFA trip that I don't want to go on, ugh). It's a bit shorter than Artie's and probably one of the darkest there will be, but I hope you liked anyway, I'll try to update soon. What do you guys want to see Rachel write to the others left (Quinn, Brittany, Finn, Puck, Mike, Kurt), and also, who do you think was the friend that told Rachel who started the rumor? Please review, until next time, then.