Shit. That was what Santana felt like when she woke up that morning. She shouldn't have gone out drinking with Riley but Rosario Cruz, her fake ID alter ego, had another say to that. She barely remembers what happened after her six going on seven shot of tequila. On top of the migraine she's getting from the leftover effects of the alcohol she assumes she must have inhaled, her head feels like she's been hit by a truck. And why the fuck is she wearing two bras? Whatever, Santana thought. It wasn't like it's the craziest morning she has ever woken up to. She just needs to sleep this through and hopefully by tomorrow the throbbing pain will be gone.
Wait tomorrow? Her eyes went wide as she sprung up from bed. It would have been funny if she didn't feel like her head is about to split open.
"Shit shit shit," she muttered stumbling a little from the littered clothes all around when she realized she was late for school. She can't afford to be in more shit than she already is. Just thinking of what Figgins had told her causes her to shiver. Fuck. There's no way she'd risk being in glee club. So, she ignored the splitting headache she's having when she rushes to get ready while silently cursing herself every moment she got.
It was already 10:20 am. She had already missed the first class and was late for her second. She grumbled, cursing once more for allowing Rosario (herself) to succumb to drinking so much late last night.
There were a couple of text messages and missed calls from Berry, Quinn and Puck. Of course the three stooges were going to text and call her. She rolled her eyes, instantly regretting doing so as the room started spinning around her once more. She can't even mentally scold herself for being too hangover because of the hangover.
"What the hell happened to you?" Quinn said to Santana. The brunette looked like she was a scene from Zombieland, which was a contrast to her always pristine look. "And why do you have a huge bump in your forehead?"
"Fuck, can you be any more louder Fabray?" she hissed, cradling her head.
She was already in a foul mood and she didn't need Quinn's annoying presence around her. But now that the blonde had mentioned it, why does she have a huge bump in her head?
"You should go home and rest San."
Ugh. She knows that she should have just stayed in her room in the first place. Then she wouldn't have to face Fabray's annoyingness right now. But as much as she hates how irritating Quinn could be, she would have hated it even more if she had stayed in her room. She couldn't stand being in that house. Growing up she use to love coming home but a lot has changed and things were a lot different now. Home became just another place she would sometimes sleep in and shower at. She'd rather face the agony of school with her current hangover than to stay cooped up in that suffocating room.
And it was agony indeed. The day was just terrible. She already got in trouble with her second period geography teacher, Doosenbury, for being tardy yet again. Bitch should be glad she even came even with a massive hangover. That's a new level of determination, at least for her. So Doosenbury should at least be grateful for that. And who would even want to go to a class whose teacher's name was Doosenbury? That name itself is just practically calling for jokes.
What's worse was she couldn't even manage to throw a nasty response without throwing her vomit along with it. So she kept her mouth shut for once and endured being scolded, while "Snoozebury" stood triumphant and somewhat surprised by her lack of response. If only that bitch knew that she has mentally been running her over with her car. It would have definitely wiped that ugly smirk off her face.
On top of it, Figgins had congratulated her for being the new member of the New Directions Glee Club, something that she wanted to avoid in the first place. So as soon as he said it, that's when she lost it.
Her vomit. Who could blame her? Figgins was totally asking for it if you ask her. He even had a decency to give her a sympathetic look knowing full well what he was about to do. Who the fuck does that? So throwing up definitely wasn't her greatest moment but not something she regrets because lets face it, he deserved it. To say the least, by lunchtime, the vomit drenched Figgins had excused her for the rest of the day on a basis of a stomach flu. So really, who's the real winner here?
"You should stop drinking yourself to numbness," Quinn murmured frowning at her friend's indisposed condition. "I'm just really worried San."
"And who the fuck told you to," Santana mumbled at her blonde friend. "No one asked you to be here."
She was irritated at everyone and at everything. Geez she only went out to drink. It just so happens to be on the day she hated the most. It was the day her parents officially got divorce, her mom had packed her bags and left, while her dad buried himself to work not being able to stand seeing his good for nothing daughter. Not only that, she was disowned by her own abuela for being a devil's spawn, just because she just so happens to love girls the way she's suppose to feel about boys. So excuse her for wanting to numb everything out.
There are just way too many emotions and too many feelings that comes back. She needed to drink herself to numbness until she forgets everything. That's why she and Riley went out late last night for a much needed drink. One drink led to another and another until she couldn't even remember what and how many drinks she had had. She guesses it wasn't enough because the numbing effect was slowly disappearing and everything was starting to hurt again. She wishes the migraine would just take over her just so she doesn't remember any of it.
Before she could wallow herself into more despair, she felt a soft hand rubbing her back. It was soothing to say the least. She normally would have snapped and punch the person touching her but she took comfort in that small gesture. She told herself it was because she was too busy cradling her head to even say or do anything. Plus she wasn't in any mood for a nice slap from Quinn.
"Here. Rachel asked me to give this to you," the blonde said handing her some aspirin while continuing to rub her back. "She knew you'd need it."
She grunted in reply while taking a couple of tablet. Quinn would just annoy her to no end if she doesn't take it but she definitely has no intention of drinking it. At least not yet.
"We can't help worry about you," Quinn said after awhile. "Will you be okay getting home?" Getting another grunt, the blonde finally stood up.
"Okay. Call us if you need anything." And with that Quinn quietly left the brooding brunette to her own. Despite how Santana acts like a cold-hearted bitch immune to any emotions, she knows that deep inside Santana is still hurting. Why else would she drink more than usual every year on this particular day? As much as Quinn wanted to stay, she knew Santana needed the space and she knew full well that her presence would really do no good to the brunette.
Santana doesn't know how long she was there but she appreciated the silence. She was sitting in the same spot for the past few hours, except this time she's taking gulps of Whiskey from the bottle that she always carries in her bag. At least that bag was useful for something, she thought.
She briefly wondered how her life fucked up so bad for her to end up drinking alone in this run down old classroom on a friday afternoon. Who the fuck did she even pissed off to get this much punishment? Why her? Why did it have to be her? If she could have just love a boy then maybe her parents would have still been together. Maybe her mother wouldn't have cried herself to sleep every night praying her sins away, until it got to the point where she had reached her breaking point and she just up and left, just like that. Maybe then her father won't forget that he still has a daughter. Maybe she really was an abomination like what her abuela had yelled amidst the holy water she had sprayed on her. Maybe that's why her life is a fucking mess.
"Ugh," she groaned in frustration. She didn't need this kind of thinking. "Screw her abuela. Screw everyone," she mumbled taking another gulp.
The alcohol was burning her throat but that was the last thing on her mind. She kept drinking until her throat felt raw and sore and her head throbbed even more, even after that she kept drinking and drinking until she felt nothing. It became a soothing relief for her. A craving she seeks refuge in.
She didn't know what time she left the room but it must have been after school hours as the school halls were already empty. She was definitely glad for it though cause she was in no mood to talk to anyone. She swears she's a few seconds away from unleashing Snixx.
Walking around she noted how huge the hallways looks when it's empty. It was a contrast to the busy and crowded hallways in which people always had to maneuver themselves around to get to class. She didn't have to do that though, people part ways in fear every time she walks by. It was a skill she had mastered and retained even after she retired her Cheerio captaincy.
She marveled at the red lockers that lined up the path as she continued her walk. Back then when she was a freshman, the lockers were so pristine and new, but now it just simply looks barren, empty and dull. She could even see the cheap red paintings that chipping off and she noted the different dents and the many small graffiti littered around. She realizes nothing beautiful ever stays the same.
Before she knows it, her feet had taken her to the auditorium where she could hear some music playing. Curious, she opened the door only to be surprised that the room was empty. She was about to leave when the lights on the stage flickered on and a tall blonde girl walked in the middle of the stage and started to dance.
She should have left, after all, this is none of her business. She never stays for this kind of shit, but she found it impossible to move as each second goes by.
She was entranced.
Maybe its the way, the girl had rhythmically move through the beats of the music, or maybe its the way the girl's blonde hair flowed freely as she carried herself gracefully that reminded Santana of a distant past.
A familiar feeling swept through her and she felt a sense of serenity. Thoughts of an old playground, scrapes knees, and something bright and warm flashed through her memory. She allowed herself to succumb to those images. Finally realizing the brightness had come from the sun that was swooping down on her. She had just fallen off the slide not too long ago and her knees were hurting. A voice had called her and she looked up to see a little girl whose hands were extended out towards her. She squints trying to get a glimpse of the girl's identity. But the brightness of the sun had made it impossible to do so, that all she could see was the girl's shoulder length blonde hair, which had captured every ray of sunlight forming a golden halo around the girl's head. It reminded her of an angel that her abuela used tell to her about. She unconsciously smiled, all the pain in her knees forgotten. And then it was over. The feeling was gone in an instant and she immediately misses it.
It wasn't until the music stopped that she realized that the girl had stopped dancing and was looking at her. She could feel her heart growing unsteady and suddenly she felt uneasy. Maybe it's because she got caught looking like one of those creeps with binoculars. She definitely didn't want to be known as the new Jacob Ben Israel aka Jewfro. But she knows it wasn't that because god knows how many times she had gotten caught doing something she wasn't suppose to do. She couldn't exactly pin point why her heart was beating a little fast or why her breathing suddenly become so erratic but it must have something to do with the girl and the way she was looking at her.
Not wanting to stay one second longer to the source of her gnawing feeling, which had really started to annoy her, she swiftly turned around ready to exit, only to be surprised when she collided with something very hard and something definitely concrete. Then she gracefully, as graceful as anyone could be in that situation, fell on the floor. The last thing she remembers was how much she really hated this day because who the fuck runs into a wall and passes out? Clearly her.