Rachel was exhausted. Her body was so tired that she trembled with every movement. It had been almost a day since the boys had shoved her in the shed and forced her to relive her worst memories. The problem was that she couldn't get rid of the images. She hadn't eaten since early the previous morning and constantly warding people away from her door was getting tiring. She had a massive headache, but it was better than being disturbed. After the phone call with Quinn, the brunette had unplugged the device so that she wouldn't be bothered again. She'd locked her door and simply curled away from the rest of the population.

Her body ached with the strain of staying awake, but she couldn't sleep. Every time she tried to close her eyes, the images would appear in full force. The words whispered in her ear, the smell, the blood. She couldn't take it. Rachel already knew what kind of monster she was, but she had thought that maybe there was a way to make up for what she had done. It seemed she had been wrong. There was nothing good inside of her and the sooner she realized that the better. Where did that leave her though? The only comfort that she had was that maybe if she locked herself away no one would find her. She could just fade away into nothing and be done with it.

Everything was in place now, Quinn knew. She'd bullied one of the younger students (there were advantages to being a bitch) into doing her hair for her. It was brutally short now, dyed a pink color that still startled her when she saw herself in the mirror. It was a symbolic new start, and it felt good.

If Dr. Schuester knew what she planned, which she assumed he did given his propensity for snooping, he'd made no effort to stop her. She'd cleared things up as best she could with Puck, and the abortive phone call she'd made to Rachel that morning had been the final kick in the pants she'd needed to get going. Clearly even the one friend she thought she'd made didn't want her around. She'd scribbled a few words on a piece of paper and folded it up, and she was carrying it in her free hand.

Rachel,

I'm sorry I misunderstood what our relationship was. Clearly that was a mistake on my part. Not to worry, though. I'm on my way out. Everything I needed to do here is done. And I really can't see any more reasons to stay. Take care of yourself.

-Q

Something - a not-quite physical force that she could only assume Rachel was generating - prevented her from reaching the door. So she got as close as she could and dropped the letter with a sigh. Settling her bag more firmly on her shoulder, she began to walk away.

Rachel felt the warmth of Quinn's presence fill her and she knew the other girl was near her door for a brief moment. She groaned and almost reached out, but then she heard the words again. Murderer, no remorse, killer. She felt sick again, but her stomach was empty of any food and she was barely finding the energy to project her power. It would take long for her to pass out now. She would welcome the darkness. Maybe it would allow her to forget. The things awaiting her in unconsciousness couldn't be any worse than what she was dealing with now.

As Quinn's warmth faded, Rachel curled into herself further and felt the blackness begin to creep in. The visions were haunting her and felt more vivid than ever, but she had no strength left. Wherever they would carry her, she was ready to give in. She had nothing left and it was better this way. She only hoped that the other girl eventually worked out everything she needed to figure out.

The brunette felt her power fading and pushed to keep it up, knowing the strain it would cause but she felt nothing. As blood dripped from her nose, the only thing she noticed was the emptiness in her heart and the numbness in her limbs. Her grip around her legs began to slacken as she felt herself begin to fade away. She wasn't scared anymore. She was ready to pay for her crimes and she welcomed the voices and the darkness as it took her. Everything faded out slowly. Sound, light, her power, and eventually her thoughts.

The force that held her away from the door seemed to vanish all at once. Quinn didn't know whether that was on purpose or not, but she thought she'd at least take the chance to deliver her letter properly. She shoved it under the door and knocked to make sure Rachel knew it was there. As she went to turn away she hesitated - had Rachel dropped it for her? But she hadn't come to the door. She didn't know how to interpret that.

And so, as confused and lost as ever, she rapped one more time on the door in a wordless goodbye, and carried on her way. People parted in front of her, another benefit of being a bitch.