Hush, little baby, don't say a word

Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird

I lay in my bed and gaped at the ceiling. Looming shadows danced on the walls. My blanket covered everything but my eyes.

And if that mockingbird won't sing

Papa's gonna buy you a diamond ring

I snapped my head to the left, wide-eyed. Was there someone outside my window?

And if that diamond ring turns brass

Papa's gonna buy you a looking glass

The white curtains fluttered in the wind. Something was moving in the grass.

And if that looking glass gets broke

Papa's gonna buy you a billy goat

My body shook fiercely. Warm tears streamed down my face.

And if that billy goat won't pull

Papa's gonna buy you a cart and bull

A twig cracked in half right outside my window. I yelped and pulled my blanket over my eyes.

And if that cart and bull fall down

You'll still be the sweetest little baby in town

Silence.

I woke up with a start. I inhaled shakily and turned off my alarm clock.

I looked down at my aching arms. They were covered in thin red scratch marks. I sighed. Why do I always get so scared at night?

Shaking my head, I threw off my blanket and walked to the bathroom.

After brushing my teeth and getting dressed, I grabbed my things and left for school. The freezing air burned my face and my breath emanated white clouds.

After about twenty minutes of walking through residential areas, I arrived at school. The building stood white and elevated in the misty morning. An American flag waved in the wind and a large sign by the front doors read: "Welcome to the William McKinley High School!" A tall, marble statue of former president William McKinley stood by the sign, his face stern and his eyes vacant.

I pulled open the glass front doors and entered the comforting warmth of the hallway. Gloomy students searched their lockers, heavy-lidded. I walked to my AP Calculus class. As always, Mrs. Burmingham was the only person in the room. She smiled at me warmly as I entered.

"Hey, Santana. I was wondering when you'd show up." She brushed her long, brown hair aside. "I wanted to show you something."

I looked at her questioningly and walked to her desk. Her olive eyes scanned me, and she said, "I overheard you and Quinn conversing the other day. I was very impressed by the way you were able to solve that problem in your head."

I averted my eyes and let a little smile appear on my face. "Thanks."

"I wanted to see if you can do this in your head."

I looked down at the paper she was showing me. A simple equation was written on it: The square root of 272 over 5 plus the square root of 425 over 9 equals…

I looked up. The numbers flew into my vision and moved around until they solved themselves.

"61 root 17 all over 45," I said with quiet confidence.

Mrs. Burmingham gazed at me, her head slightly cocked to one side. "That's right," she said in an awed tone. She smiled. "I have a genius in my class."

"What—no—I'm not," I stammered. I became uncomfortable as she continued smirking at me.

"You're humble. But you really are quite brilliant."

I blushed into my shirt. Extreme relief swept me when the bell rang and I had an excuse to walk back to my desk.

I thought about what she told me. Me? Brilliant? I'd never thought of it that way before. I had always been able to solve complicated problems in my head. But I always thought other people could, too.

After fifty minutes, the bell rang to let us out to our next classes. I slithered my arms into the straps of my backpack and walked out into the hallway. I was heading to my next class, English, when a girl in a Cheerios uniform situated herself in my path. I looked up at her face. Her dyed dirty blonde hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail and her eyes, black as coal, twinkled cruelly.

"Hey, freak. I saw what you did to my boyfriend, Jake. I don't appreciate maniacs clawing at my man." She pushed me into the lockers behind me. The people who were standing around us turned their heads, eager to see a fight.

I quickly walked around her, trying to hide my fear.

"Don't you fucking walk away from me!" she screeched. She grabbed my backpack and threw me to the ground. Helpless, I crawled up in a ball and tried to defend myself against her merciless kicks.

"Hey, hey! What's going on here?" I heard a man's voice yell. The kicks stopped. I looked up to see Mr. Schuester, the Spanish and Glee teacher, holding the Cheerio's arm. "To the principal's office. Now."

She yanked her arm free and, rolling her eyes, walked in the opposite direction. Mr. Schuester bent down over me and offered me his hand. I took it and was helped back to my feet.

"Are you okay?" he said worriedly.

I nodded and turned around. I entered the girls' bathroom down the hall and locked myself in a stall. I cried my heart out, sitting on the toilet seat.

That's it. I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't face the bullies and the nights and my daddy's love. I made a silent vow. It ends now. I will take my own life and rid my worthless self of this world.

I heard the door of the bathroom open and shut. I could hear footsteps approaching my stall.

"Hello?" a delicate female voice called.

I didn't answer. Whoever she is, I'm sure she doesn't care. Just like everybody else.

"Hello? Can you please come out of the stall?"

"Why?" I sniffed.

"Because I want to talk to you," the girl said sweetly.

I could see her shoes, blue Converse, under the door. After a few moments, I stood up and opened the stall.

She had striking blue eyes and long blonde hair. She looked at me affectionately.

"Hi, I'm Brittany. You're Santana, right?"

"Yeah," I muttered.

"Nice to meet you. I saw what that girl did . Why are they all so mean to you?"

"I don't know," I said quietly. My eyes were still puffy.

She gazed at me as if I were an interesting museum exhibit. Then she reached out her arms and pulled me into a hug.

I was initially surprised, but when she didn't let go, I decided to hug her back. Her strong arms were so comforting.

She stroked my hair. "I'm here. Everything's going to be better now."