the day the world went away
It was decidedly getting easier to breathe when the aspirin finally started to kick in, and her bruised ribs and tense shoulder didn't send a spasm of pain through her every time she took a breath. The pads of her fingers lightly traced over her ribs, her skin warm to the touch, and she could feel how swollen the left side of her ribs were in comparison to her right. Her grazing fingers sent tingles down her spine, and with a hazy curious whim she paused over a spot that seemed most tender and pressed down gently, her toes curling at the slight pain that ran through her. Almost discontent with just that, she grasped her ribs and pressed down hard. Hissing through gritted teeth, her toes curled in further until she finally released her ribs with a slow exhale and let her hand continue to trail her naked stomach.
Right – so she wasn't dreaming. She was definitely naked underneath the covers of her bed, parts of her body certainly felt swollen, and yes, her room positively looked like a typhoon ran through it.
She wasn't quite certain as to why she was naked and why her body felt like it had been run over multiple times. She had been in and out of sleep for who knows how long, the last time she was awake it had been bright outside, but now –
She had woken up almost a half hour ago to find her room a mess, and two pills of pain killers and a glass of water on her nightstand. With a long confused glance around the clothes, books and other belongings strewn around the floor, she had reached over with a painful grimace to gulp it down and collapse on her back once more.
She was pretty certain she was nursing the mother of all hangovers, she was also certain that hangover's weren't supposed to last this long. It was difficult to remember much of anything in the past hours, just the hours that felt like minutes of just watching daylight turn to darkness turn to daylight with just her eyes peaking over her covers to stare up above her head through the window. Or to stumble through the colossal mess on her bedroom floor to wander around the house restlessly like a ghost in search of something to fill her stomach only to share with the toilet moments later, cursing whatever sympathetic being who left soup on the stove, yet couldn't remember to leave the blinds and curtains closed for her sensitive eyes.
Really – her body felt weighted down into the mattress, her skull felt expanded twice its size, her throat was raw, and it hurt to move her fingers, left shoulder and her ribs – what the fuck happened? A couple drinks of water, a couple aspirin, repeat – that was the regular drill, but not today apparently. She was pretty sure she had her parents beat in hangovers.
She was seriously going to kill Mack.
It was right then, in the midst of a silent prayer to end her suffering, her cell phone decided to beep unceremoniously somewhere in her room. She winced, squeezing her eyes shut as the sound sent a sharp throb shooting through her head. When it beeped again, her face slowly darkened into a scowl and cursed the inanimate object for not being on silent and hidden somewhere in her room. Bringing her hands up to her face to rub the lethargy away, she exhaled and ever so slowly, removed the covers from her body and sat up, minding the pain in her ribs and shoulder.
She gritted her teeth when sharp pain coursed through her body at the movement, her arms shaking at the exertion of raising her body, and sighed when she allowed her body to collapse again the wall. Giving her body a moment to ease of pain, Quinn opened her eyes to scan her room blanketed in dull light with a furrowed brow. Her sight was blurry from her hazy eyes and her lack of contacts but she was still able to assess the damage of her room.
Just like the last time she took a glance around her room, while it was usually mundane, orderly and bare, it was in a state of disarray. Her clothes was scattered out all along the floor from her open closet, the small pile of books that had been stacked on her nightstand had been tossed on the floor, her lamp had been knocked over, and her piles makeup and other random stuff on her dresser was scattered everywhere.
That's when she saw it – a small stack of papers and a colorful box that sat innocently open sideways. A heavy foreboding feeling settled in her chest, and at the sound of another beep, she jumped slightly, her eyes automatically drawn to her cell which lay among the mess on her vanity dresser.
Swallowing heavily with apprehension, Quinn took a deep breath and gradually dragged her body off her bed with a wince and stumbled her way over her clothes, her eyes unmoving from the blurry objects. Yet, something caught her eye once she was standing over her dresser. Raising her eyes to the mirror, she felt her body go still and her breath catch in her throat with a small gasp. She found herself staring into the reflection of stranger, one with dark bruises littering their body and face, a cut on their lip, dark circles under their eyes that decided to fill with unshed tears, and unruly pink hair.
Barely breathing, Quinn's knees decided to give out and she stumbled heavily into her chair. The stranger followed her movements, its dreary hazel eyes wide with shock. The longer she stared, the more blurry her vision became and the louder the pounding in her head became. She had to look away, but looking away led to looking down at the sheets of paper on her dresser.
One caught her eyes, with trembling hands she picked it up and slowly opened it to see a colorful drawing of four blonde haired figures – two short and two tall, with one that had mysterious pink highlights – holding hands. The words 'To Quinn, We'll miss you!' were scribbled in neat block lettering in pencil crayons above the drawing, and underneath 'From Stevie, Stacy and Sam.'
Something coiled within her chest, snapping tight, and gripping her lungs and heart.
Another piece of paper folded under the drawing was a letter written in a familiar messy handwriting. She grinded her teeth, and pulled the letter from underneath with trembling hands, and already she's cursing the boy in her head, words that she would have never dreamed of thinking weeks prior.
Quinn,
Hi. I really don't know how to start this, there doesn't seem to be an easy way to say it and I don't have much time to write it. I would have told you in person but…I guess it's best if I just write it already. Dad got his job back, which means by the time you get this I'll probably be in Kentucky.
You can imagine how happy my parents are, dad starts works in just a couple days so we had to rush and pack everything to drive there.
I bet you're angry. I know you're angry. In a way I'm angry too, angry at a lot of things. I didn't get to say bye to you, or to Kurt, or to anyone else. I'm angry that my dad lost his job, that we lived in a motel for months, that I have to move to Kentucky. I'm gonna miss everyone. I'm gonna miss you. I'm glad that even after everything that happened between us, we still remained friends. Best friends even. I don't regret those days I slowly got to know the real you when you helped babysit. And I know you feel the same, don't think that I don't, I'm not that stupid. I mean like…you're like the Iron Woman to my Captain America when Tony Stark from Prime Earth was sort of reborn as Natasha Stark on regular Earth. Just without the romance and everything...
So please please please don't be angry. I didn't mean to not say goodbye properly, I tried calling and coming over but you were never home and never answered my texts or anything. But in all honestly Q? I'm glad. I couldn't bear to actually see you. It would hurt too much for the both of us, and I don't think you'd want your last memory of me is to be of me crying. I think I've already made a lasting impression on you with my lemon dyed blond hair, studly body, and geekiness/nerdiness/dorkiness (I didn't know which one to use) and I want to keep it that way because I think you deserve some happiness in your life after everything you've been through.
I hope that you do get happy. You get happy and you leave Lima, go to college and just be happy. Because I know you're not. Not after these past two years with Finn, your baby (sorry I know you don't like me mentioning it), me, you're parent's divorce (sorry again), everything. I just want you to be happy. But I know you're still pissed, hopefully not too much to cut me off once you read this cause I'd still wanna keep in touch with you. I'm gonna see if I can come visit sometimes, or maybe you can come visit us (once we find a stable home, we're staying with relatives until we find one). It doesn't matter. Facebook friends forever, right? At least until college…we can totally figure something out with that. Uhm…unless you don't want to…that's ok…yeah….
I'm rambling. I'm sorry. I wish I didn't have to go. I wish I could have stayed and see us finally kick ass at Nationals this year and to graduate together. I'm gonna miss you guys so much. Stacy and Stevie are gonna miss you too. They made you a drawing and made me get you a box of pink hair dye cause Final Fantasy, you know? They still think it would be awesome if you dressed up as Lightning for Halloween and sent them pictures. I told them you'd never do it but they wouldn't shut up about it.
I don't know what to write anymore Q. I guess I'll be seeing you.
Oel ngati kameie.
Love From, Sam
She read it again, and again, and again, feeling some sense of déjà vu. With a blurry memory running through her head, she could vaguely remembering reading these hours ago. She quickly glanced around the mess of her room and looked down at the letters with a lump in her throat. The pain in her body couldn't compare anymore, she instead could feel it going numb, and limp with heaviness while her heart got steadily heavier and heavier. The threat of tears was building, yet she couldn't find the energy to breakdown, it felt like she had been crying for days already with the way she felt and the flashes of memory that ran through her mind. Her head hung, and she slowly placed the letters next to the box.
She eyed it through her eyelashes, the open box of hair dye laying empty, mocking her with its bright pink label. She looked away and reminded herself to breathe.
Breathe, just breathe.
Her cell beeped, jarring and echoing in her too quiet room.
Without even glancing at it, her hand snatched out and grabbed it to read her unread text messages. She barely registered the amount of missed calls she had from her mother, Sam, Santana, and Brittany, or that the last time she was home it was Friday morning and it was now evening on Monday. Instead, her eyes zeroed on the unread message sent from Mack.
hey fabray, bring some jack to mine's next sat and i'll share some smokes. your bday bash ain't over yet, offer still stands ;)
Quinn reread the text three times and swallowed heavily before typing out her reply and hit send before she could rationalize what she had just done. She unceremoniously dropped her phone on her dresser, pulled her knees up to her chest and curled up into herself, letting out shaky exhale.
See you then
A/N: And that concludes the prequel. Hope you enjoyed the downward spiral :D Comments and constructive criticism are welcome.
If you want to see some periodic ranting about these stories, or some extras (important music, relevant pictures, posts) that has to do with the stories, you can go to my profile for the links.