"Don't you dare die."
Ray lazily looked over to Santana as she lay on the carpet of her dorm room, noose still loosely around her neck. She couldn't really breathe and she wasn't sure if she was alive or dead and her afterlife was just some stupid form of hell that she was going to be stuck in. That she would have to relive all of these terrible moments.
She didn't even remember whether she'd actually hung herself this time or tried to jump off the roof again. Maybe a combination of both? Or maybe she'd overdosed on pills and this was some freaky lucid dream. Trying to open her mouth to speak or breathe, she couldn't find a way to get any air in. She was gasping and clawing at her neck as Santana seemed to keep telling her not to die.
Was she dead? But if she was dead she wouldn't be seeing the girl in front of her. She wouldn't be feeling Santana holding her. She also wouldn't be hearing the sirens that were more than likely on their way to her. She felt like a failure, like she'd let Santana down from the look the girl was giving her. She needed to squeeze Santana's hand, needed to let her friend know she was still alive.
She had to move something, anything, even take a breath. That would be great. She could tell Santana she was okay. She saw tears in the girl's eyes, her heart breaking at how she'd let her friend find her. She had hurt Santana, the Latina never cried in front of her. Santana didn't cry in general. And here she was, crying because Ray had tried to die. She had tried to do something to make everyone's lives better. She assumed it would help, no one really depended on her anymore. She didn't have a girlfriend, her sisters avoided her, and Santana always sided with Quinn on everything. The cards were stacked against Ray and she needed an out. She needed to make people hate her less.
The paramedics rushed in, moving Ray off to the side and trying to restart her breathing, frantically. They did everything they could, just barely getting Ray to start breathing again. She was moved to the hospital and put on a breathing machine while they tried to figure out if there was a way to save her. She still couldn't move, her body not having enough oxygen sent to it for long enough that she was practically paralyzed.
If she stayed this way it would mean losing all of her scholarships, she couldn't draw anymore or paint. Soccer was out of the question, as was most other things. She'd be stuck as a vegetable for the rest of her life. That wasn't a life she wanted.