January 4th, 2 pm

I'm used to my room facing the East and being awoken by the sun shining in through the windows. I always look outside and see the palm trees swaying as a slight breeze cuts through the humid Miami air.

This morning I woke up just after eight to an alarm. When I sat up and looked out of the small window in my new room, I didn't see a single ray of sunshine nor a swaying palm tree. Instead, the entire yard of Emma and Will's yard was covered in cold, icy snow.

I have a confession: I've never seen snow before. Well, unless it's on TV. We never get snow in Miami, and every time Dad and I would travel up north, it would be during the summer. My experience with snow is through the movies. When it snows, kids never have to go to school. They use snow to make snowmen that come to life or throw balls of snow at one another. I remember watching an episode of Spongebob Squarepants where it snowed and Spongebob and Patrick kept throwing snowballs that would put out Squidward's fire.

I always wanted snow when I was little, mainly so I wouldn't have to go to school. I used to go to bed every night before a test and wish for a snow day. Of course, that never happened until today.

I don't have any winter clothes. I don't have a winter jacket or long sleeves or even a pair of boots. I have a light jacket I wore in the city during October, as well as a few pairs of jeans, but nothing more than that.

I'm going to freeze.

When I headed down the stairs and into the kitchen, Will had already left for work. He teaches English at Whitefish High School, as well as coaches their baseball team in the spring. Emma was on her way out the door to her job as a secretary at the pediatrician's office. That left me and Jesse in the kitchen for another twenty minutes until we left for Kalispell.

"There's milk in the fridge if you want some cereal or whatever," Jesse said, never bothering to look up from his cellphone. I know it's bad, but I don't even know how old Jesse is now, nor what he does during the day while Emma and Will are at work.

"Thanks," I muttered, pouring myself a bowl of cheerios with a little bit of milk. I sat down at the table, silently eating my sad excuse for a breakfast, trying to figure out what I was going to do to occupy my time when I wasn't busy with therapy or the worthless support group.

I was sure there was at least one dance studio here in Whitefish. Too bad I stopped dancing months ago.

There was a crate of books in my room Dad and Aunt April had mailed to Emma's house before I moved in. I guess they hoped I would have something to entertain myself with, since there's nothing to do in Whitefish besides hiking and camping, and I'm not exactly an outdoors type of girl. I've never been much of a reader, choosing to spend my free time in a leotard practicing exercises at the barre as opposed to getting lost in a fictional world, but I suppose it's never too late to try.

Eventually, Jesse broke the silence, telling me we had to leave or we'd never make to Kalispell on time. I took a glance out the window, then down at myself. I was wearing a short sleeved polka dot blouse and skinny jeans with a pair of black flats. I was going to freeze.

Jesse seemed to read my mind, because he tossed me a black parka with a fur collar. "Here. My dad got this for you so you wouldn't freeze to death. Emma said she'd take you shopping this weekend for a pair of boots and some warmer clothes. Now come on, we need to go."

I followed him outside, pulling my new jacket on. It wasn't exactly stylish, but it was warm. I guess that's all that really matters in a town like this. Jesse lead me out to his car, an old Ford pickup truck. Apparently, everyone in Montana drives one.

The drive to Kalispell was quiet. Jesse had the radio on and was listening to some rock station while I just stared out the window, watching cars drive past us in the other direction. Jesse was a few years older than me, making me wonder what he was doing with his life. he obviously wasn't working since he spent all day driving me around, so maybe he was living at home until he found some kind of job. I wondered if he even went to college.

Eventually, we parked at a small medical complex and I climbed out.

"Hey, I got a friend who lives a few minutes from here. Just call me when you're done and I'll pick you up, okay?" Without waiting for an answer, Jesse drove off, leaving me all on my own.

I followed the signs inside to the office of Dr. Susan Sylvester, psychiatrist. I checked in at the desk, and they told me it would be a few minutes as she was finishing with another patient. Thankfully, I'd grabbed one of the books my dad had sent me.

I pulled out a very worn copy of Oliver Twist and began reading, getting through a few pages before the receptionist called my name. I marked my spot before shoving the book back in my bag, following her back into an office. There were lots of impressive looking books on the shelves behind a desk. I took a seat in a comfy chair to the side, waiting for the doctor to come in.

Eventually, she did. She was a tall woman with short blonde hair dressed in a black suit. "Ah, you must be Rachel," she said, taking my hand. I looked at her, trying to form an opinion. I didn't want to be here, and her friendliness seemed fake.

Verdict: I hated her.

"You can call em Dr. Sue," she continued, taking a seat behind the desk.

Dr. Sue spent an hour asking me about everything in my life. She wanted to know about friends, family, school, boyfriends. Luckily, I didn't have much to tell her about the last one as I'd never dated. She asked me about my sexual experience (none), and what I liked to do for fun (nothing). I could tell she was getting frustrated with me since I kept giving her one worded answers. Finally, after going through everything in my life, Dr. Sue asked me about my suicide.

I didn't say anything.

I had nothing to say. I couldn't even talk to myself about it, let alone someone I had just met. So instead of telling the good doctor this, I clammed up. I stared at my hands as I tried to ignore her penetrating gaze.

"Rachel," she said. "I can't help you unless you talk to me."

If my life were a movie, there would have been crickets chirping to interrupt the deafening silence that filled the room.

I'm comfortable addressing my suicide attempt, to myself at least. But what led me to it? No. I can't even tell a book of paper what happened, and I don't know if I ever will be. Some things are better left unsaid.

I spent the rest of the session in silence while Dr. Sue tried different ways to get me to open up to her. She tried changing the subject, but I was over therapy by that point. Instead, I just watched the clock tick until it was time for me to go. Apparently, I annoyed Dr. Sue with my silence and she gave me homework, something I didn't realize she could do. I'm now supposed to write about all my dreams and give it to her in our next session. She's crazy if she thinks I'm going to tell her anything real about my dreams. I'll just have to make something up.

Besides, I don't have normal dreams anymore. I have nightmares, every night. And I don't need a shrink to tell me what they mean.

After leaving the office, I decide to walk around a bit, not ready to call Jesse to pick me up. Besides, I need to make up a session with Dr. Sue that doesn't have me sitting in silence for the majority of the time. Emma and Will would not be happy about that, and neither would my dad.

I looked down at my phone, checking the time. I was supposed to go to that stupid support group at 2:30, so I had plenty of time before we were supposed to leave, and this was the first time I was completely alone since getting off the plane here in Montana.

I walked down the main road in Kalispell, glancing around. There didn't appear to be a lot of shopping, but there was a McDonald's up ahead, and I was craving french fries. I ended up sitting there for awhile, reading my book and casually checking the time. The girl behind the counter kept eyeing me suspiciously, but it's not like I was doing anything to bother her.

Eventually, I decided it was probably time to call Jesse and have him pick me up. Otherwise I'd miss the first session of my support group, and there was no way Emma was going to give me back my door if I did that.

I found Jesse's number in my cell (something my dad insisted I have so he could reach me whenever he needed to) and called him, waiting for him to pick up.

"Yo, Rach. You done?" he asked.

"Yeah, I am. I'm at the McDonald's just down the road from the office, if you want to pick me up from there. We can just go right to my support group from there."

"Cool, sounds good. I'll be there in a few."

I hung up the phone without another word and slid it back into my bag, shivering slightly where I stood. The coat may have been warm, but that didn't help the fact that I was in short sleeves underneath it. I definitely needed a new and warmer wardrobe.

Finally, Jesse's truck rolled up right to where I was standing and I climbed in. He gave me a look before pulling out of the parking lot and heading back towards Whitefish. "So, how was the doc?" he asked. I shrugged my shoulders in response. "Yeah, I know what you mean. She used to be the guidance counselor at the high school and I was always getting sent to her for fighting and shit. She's a hard ass."

I covered my mouth as I laughed a little. "Yeah, she was annoying," I agreed. "She kept asking me questions about stuff I didn't want to talk about."

Jesse gave me a look. "And you volunteered all the information she wanted to know, did you?"

I sighed. "Okay fine! I didn't tell her anything. She kept prying and saying I had to talk to her if I wanted her to help me, but I just stared at the clock. I don't know if I really want her to help me. And, can you not tell Emma and Will that, please? She'll never let me do anything by myself if she think I'm not trying."

Jesse let out a loud laugh. "You call your mom Emma?"

"She may have given birth to me, but that doesn't make her my mom," I said stiffly. "She's going to have to do more than letting me move in with her to gain that title back."

Jesse nodded. "Fair enough," he agreed. "Okay, I'll play along with your attempts to fool Emma and my dad about your recovery. I even promise not to say anything about your delayed call in getting me to pick you up. I flushed at that. "You just have to do something for me."

"What's that?"

"Don't kill yourself in my house."

I smiled a little at him. "I think I can do that much. So, where is this support group and how do you know about it?"

"It's at the Christ Lutheran Church right off of 93. My buddy from high school, Artie, runs the group. He started it a little over a year ago after he got out of the hospital after being paralyzed in a car accident. I guess it was his way to cope with what happened to him. I'm sure he'll tell you all about it at group."

"Who else goes?"

Jesse shrugged. "No idea. I've never been, and I doubt most people who go are gonna advertise it around town. People talk in a small town like this. Like with you."

"What about me?" I asked.

"Well, everyone's been talking about you coming back here. Emma's been talking about you to everyone. No one knows what happened, of course, but they've all been talking about the big city girl moving back home."

I snorted a little. "Montana has never been my home. I don't remember living here. Miami's my home, and I plan on moving back as soon as I'm better."

"Well, you could at least try to like it here, you know," Jesse said, pulling into the church parking lot. "I'm going to head over to my friend's place while you're here. Just call me when you're ready to head home, okay? Just make sure it's before six. That's when Emma gets home, and she'll kill me if we're still out. Have fun, Rach."

I climbed out of his truck and sat on a bench outside the church, busy writing away in this book. I was skeptical about this actually being beneficial, but it does seem to help to get my thoughts down on paper. It's like having a friend who listens and never interrupts.

A few people have walked past me and given me a curious look, but I've just been ignoring them.

Oh, I guess it's time to head in. I know I'm already the new girl, so I don't need to walk in late on top of being the new girl. Wish me luck!

January 4th, 10:30 pm

You're going to think I'm crazy and that I've lost my mind, but group is actually kind of awesome.

Now hear me out. I went in with expectations so low, they were buried under ground. I knew there was no way I would make any friends or even enjoy myself. I was only attending because Emma and my dad were making me.

I walked into the main room of the church where there was a circle of folding chairs, half of them occupied. Against the back wall was a table with stale donuts and bad coffee, just likes the movies.

There were two guys standing together chatting about something, and I made a mental note to sit as far away from them as I possibly could. I noticed a girl with short blonde hair sitting alone, her eyes never leaving the book in her hands. I decided she would be safe to sit next to for now.

I quietly walked over and took a seat beside her, not saying a word. I pulled my copy of Oliver Twist out of my bag, flipping back to where I left off and allowing myself to become engrossed in 19th century London. I made it through a quarter of the chapter I was reading before the doors shut loudly and all talking stopped.

I stowed my book back in my bag, shoving it under my seat. A young guy in a wheelchair was rolling into the room. That had to have been the Artie Jesse was talking about.

"Hey guys," he greeted, wheeling into the area of the circle where a folding chair was missing. "Sorry I'm a little late. I got held up at work. I see a few new faces," he said, his eyes lingering on me for a moment. "So let me introduce myself quickly. I'm Artie Abrams, and I created this support group two years ago. I was in a car accident, and as a result of that, lost all feeling and use of the lower half of my body. I was in a bad place, and I was sick of being alive. Thankfully, I was unsuccessful in my attempt because I'm still here today. After I got lots of help, I decided I wanted to help other people. So I made this group for everyone else who was in that position that I was in.

"Now, first I'll let our newcomers introduce themselves, and then we'll dive right back into where we were last time. Sound good?" The group murmured in agreement, and Artie turned his attention towards me. "So, our two new girls happen to be sitting right next to one another, which makes things a little easier. Why don't you guys introduce yourselves, tell us a little about yourselves and why you decided to join our group here."

The girl next to me stood up, looking around the group. "Uh, I'm Brittany. Brittany Pierce. I'm here because, well, I had nowhere else to go. A few months ago, I had everything I wanted. I was living in the city of my dreams, I had a great job, and I was preparing to get married to a wonderful man. Then, my grandmother got sick so I flew back here to stay with her for a few weeks. While I was here, I started feeling...off. I thought it was just the flu. When I returned home, everything changed.

"My fiancee dumped me and told me he'd been having an affair with one of coworkers who also happened to be my best friend. I lost my job after my former best friend told a bunch of lies about me to my boss. I lost my apartment because I couldn't pay for it. And then, finally, after getting tested due to my ex cheating on me, I found out I was HIV positive. After that, I couldn't get a new job. I moved in with my grandma until she passed a month ago. She left me her house since the rest of my family disowned me. I've hit rock bottom, and I have nowhere else to turn to."

She sat down, raising a hand up to wipe a few tears from her eyes.

"Thank you for sharing that, Brittany. Here, we don't judge. You're among friends here." Everyone in the circle nodded in agreement. Artie turned his attention to me. "And you?"

I stood up, still trying to figure out something to say. "Uh, I'm Rachel Berry. I'm originally from here, but my parents split up when I was a baby, and my dad moved me and him to Miami. I was a dancer, or training to become one, at least. I moved to New York City and was attending Julliard, which was my dream. Then, uh, I tried to kill myself. I didn't succeed. I dropped out of school and my dad had me committed to a psych facility for a bit.

"He moved me back home for awhile, but he said I wasn't doing anything to help myself, so he sent me here to live with my birth mother. She and her husband took away my door, won't let me drive, and they're making me come here. So yeah, that's me."

Artie laughed a little. "You know, some of us didn't want to come here at first, but everyone keeps coming back. We're happy to have you, Rachel. And, when you're ready to share your whole story, we'll listen. Remember, we don't judge here.

"Okay, so last time we were talking about forgiveness. Mike, I think we left off with you."

Everyone turned to look as an Asian guy who appeared to be in his early 20's started talking. "Yeah. I had a lot of anger for a long time at a lot of people. My aunt, for molesting me as a kid. My ex, for introducing me to cocaine and turning me into a junkie. My dad, for killing my mom and himself in front of me when I was just a kid. My sister, for kicking me out after my ex dumped me. I hit rock bottom for awhile, but it wasn't until I OD'd that I realized what a mess my life had become.

"I got clean with the help of my cousin. He got me in rehab and set me up with a therapist. I moved out of the city and in with him here in Whitefish. I started letting go of all my anger and tried forgiving everyone who I felt wronged me. And lastly, I started taking some fucking responsibility. Sure, Tina introduced me to cocaine, but I was the one who made the choice to do it day after day. I was a mess when I was using, and my sister didn't want that around her kids.

"By forgiving everyone, I was able to finally forgive myself. Now, I'm not claiming to be healthy by any means. I think about using every day, sometimes just to end the pain I feel knowing I'm all alone with no one there for me. But I'm finally starting to move on with my life, rebuild myself."

"Thank you for that, Mike. Anyone else?"

A guy who looked to be about the same age as Mike stuck his hand up in the air. He had a gentle face and a soft smile. His dark hair was a bit messy and hung in his face a little. Six months ago, I would have been all over him.

"Ah, Puck. Nice to see you finally contributing."

The guy named Puck made a face at Artie. "Yeah, whatever. Well, I think this whole forgiveness crap is a bunch of bullshit. Jake and Marley took the cowards way out. What they did was selfish. I don't think I'll ever forgive them for what they did."

I felt my face flush at his words. Cowards way out? Selfish? I wondered if that was how my dad and Aunt April saw me. Maybe that was why they sent me away.

The talk continued about forgiveness with lots of the group contributing. Eventually, Artie called the meeting to a close, saying we would meet again on Saturday. He said next time we were going to talk about joy. I doubted I would have anything to say then.

I stood up, pulling my coat on over my lightweight blouse and grabbing my bag from underneath my chair. I left my phone in my bag, not ready to head home. Jesse said we just needed to be back by six, giving me plenty of time to have a little freedom.

I walked out of the main room of the church and headed outside, scowling as I look up towards the sky. It had started snowing, as if there wasn't already enough of the white stuff on the ground. I reached a hand up, brushing a few flakes out of my hair before they had the chance to melt. Well, there went my exploration time. I thought about searching for a library or somewhere to stay until I was ready to go home. Even a small town like Whitefish had to have a public library.

I considered calling Jesse to ask him, but then figured he'd never been to a library in his entire life. Emma and Will were out, as they still weren't willing to let me sit in my room without supervision.

"Yo, new girl." A deep voice interrupted my internal conflict and I looked up, my eyes falling on two of the guys from the support group. The Asian one's name I remembered as being Mike, but the other guy I couldn't recall. For some reason, when I looked at him, I felt myself sweating a little under the collar. I attributed it to anxiety. After all, I wasn't the type of girl random guys approached.

Except for one time.

"Rebecca, right?"

I sighed a little and shook my head. "Rachel," I corrected.

"Shit, right. Rachel. From Miami," he said in an attempt to prove he'd been paying attention while I'd been speaking. "I'm Mike, and this asshole's Puck. He," he said, elbowing his friend in the side, "wanted to apologize for what he said back in there. He didn't mean to offend you."

"What makes you think I got offended?" I asked.

"You turned bright red, duh," the one named Puck said with a roll of his eyes.

"Anyways, we wanted to make it up to you. We're having a party tonight and it's be cool if you wanted to come," Mike continued, ignoring his friends.

My palms started sweating at the thought of going to a party. I'd been to exactly one party during my time at Julliard, and I had no plans to repeat the experience. "Thanks, but I don't go to parties," I said, my voice clipped.

"Told you she wouldn't come. She thinks she's better than us," Puck sneered.

My face grew hot at his words. "Excuse me?"

"You're a city girl. Miss Miami, Miss New York City. You're only here because someone's making you, not because you want to help yourself. You think you're better than the rest of us headcases. Newsflash honey-you're not."

Mike gave him a horrified look, but I turned on my heel and started walking away from them, my face on fire.

"Come back to us when you want to fit in!" Puck called after me. I stomped away, refusing to call Jesse to come pick me up now. I'd walk around in the snow for hours if I had to. I didn't understand what was wrong with him. Why was he being so mean to someone he didn't even know?

"Hey. Hey! Miami!" someone called. I turned around and saw a girl with short blonde hair running after me. When she reached me, she took my arm and started walking with me in the direction I'd been going. "Ignore him, he's a jerk. Has been ever since he started coming to group. I'm Quinn," she said, all in one breath.

"Um, Rachel," I stuttered, not quite sure what to make of the girl who had just invaded my personal space and decided she was new best friend.

"Rachel. Love that name. I was a huge Friends fan and she was totally my favorite character," she said, her mouth moving at a mile a minute. I didn't understand how someone could think that fast, let alone speak that fast. "Well, like I said, ignore Puck. He's a grade A douchebag who's prone to throwing hissy fits. It's better if you just hang out with me instead."

I gaped at her, not even sure how to respond. She was so intimidating yet so welcoming at the same time. I didn't know how that was even possible. I was still trying to force my brain to work when I saw Quinn was leading us to an ancient pickup truck. She pulled open the passenger's side door, gesturing toward it.

Without giving myself a second to think, I climbed in.

Quinn danced to the other side of the car and hopped in, the car roaring to life as soon as her door closed. "So Rachel, do you like coffee?"

I watched her the whole time she was driving to the local coffee shop. I didn't understand how someone like her could possibly need a support group for people who were depressed and suicidal. She was so...happy. And her happiness was contagious. Just being around her for these few minutes, I felt a warmth in myself I hadn't felt since before my whole life changed.

Quinn wanted to know all about me. How old I was, who my mom was, how I liked living here. When I couldn't give her a believable answer to that question, she thought for a moment and asked how much I missed Miami instead.

Once we made it to the coffee shop and were seated inside and away from the snow, her questions didn't stop. She wanted to know everything about me, especially what it was like living in the big city. Quinn admitted she'd never been out of Montana, that she'd never even considered moving away. She'd grown up in Whitefish, and she'd probably die here, too.

When she took a break from her incessant questioning to take a sip of coffee, I seized my moment. "Quinn," I said, my voice cautious. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course!" she gushed.

"You seem so...happy. Me? I'm pretty fucked up." I turned my wrist slightly, flashing her the scar that was prominently there. She didn't even flinch. "I clearly need help, which is why I'm being forced to attend this group. But you...I just don't get why you're going."

Quinn didn't even pause to think, like she'd been expecting my question all along. "Oh, that's an easy question. I need it to keep me sane." I gave her a confused look. "I should explain, you look confused," she teased. "I have post traumatic stress disorder. I know it seems weird, since I'm not a soldier or something like that. It's a little complicated, and I don't want to ruin our awesome day. I'll tell you about it another day. But basically, Artie has helped me cope with it, better than any shrink ever did," she said, rolling her eyes. "I used to get panic attacks all the time. Now I rarely get them. Plus, everyone there is super nice. They're my friends.

"Seriously, don't mind Puck. He really is a nice guy when he wants to be. Once you get to know him, you'll love him."

"I don't want to get to know him," I grumbled, causing Quinn to laugh.

"Just give him time," she encouraged again before looking down at her phone. "What time did you say your folks were going to be home at?" she asked.

"Uh, six. Why?"

"Because it's almost six," she said, holding up her phone. "Let me give you a ride."

I shook my head. "No, that would raise more questions. I'll just give my step-brother a call. He's the one supposed to be picking me up."

"And you think he's going to believe you've been at support group this whole time?" she asked skeptically.

"No, he knows I'm out wandering around on my own. But, if Emma or Will is already home, they'll be wondering why I wasn't with Jesse. And then I'll probably lose phone privileges or something."

"Yeah, that would be bad. How would you be able to text me without a phone?" she asked before taking my phone out of my hand, programming her number into it. "As if I'm going to wait until the next support group to talk to you." She gave me a look. "It's cool, call your bro. We'll do something tomorrow. You're allowed to go out, right?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "No idea. I'll have to ask the warden," I said as I texted Jesse where to pick me up.

"Well, you should. We could head over to Kalispell and hit the mall. No offense, but you need better shoes," she said, glancing down at my shoes.

"Hey, I came from Miami," I reminded her.

"And maybe after we could hit up the mountain and go tubing. Or just find a hill and go sledding," she gushed, leading me outside where we were going to wait for Jesse to pick me up. She kept babbling on about what we could do if Emma granted me permission to go out with someone who wasn't Jesse. I didn't think she was ever going to stop talking when Jesse pulled up and she went silent, letting out a small squeak. "Oh, that must be your brother," she said, her voice a full octave higher. "Text me later about tomorrow," she said before quickly running to her car.

I stared after her for a moment before climbing into Jesse's front seat, buckling my seat belt.

Jesse seemed a little distracted as he drove home. I shook it off until her pulled into the driveway and turned to face me. "So...how do you know Quinn Fabray?" he finally asked, turning the car off.

"Oh," I said, a little taken aback. "I met her at my group. She came over and started talking to me. She's nice." I paused for a minute. "How do you know her?"

"We went to school together. She was two years below me and had the biggest crush on me." He paused, and all of Quinn's behavior when Jesse showed up finally made sense. "She's weird. She was way cool her freshman year, but then the next year, she was blowing off class and hanging out with people who were known junkies. She ended up disappearing that January. There were rumors she went to rehab, but I never saw her again until today. Guess it makes sense she's going to a group for headcases. Sorry," he said, taking in my expression.

I walked inside without another word to him.

Emma was thrilled when I told her I made a friend and gladly gave me permission to hang out with her the next day, granted Quinn picked me up since she still didn't want me driving. I texted Quinn after dinner to tell her the good news. She was super excited and spent the rest of the evening texting me her plans for tomorrow while I spent it on my bed, writing in here to chronicle my day.

Jesse stopped by my room to tell me he didn't really think I was a headcase, and I forgave him. After all, I was kind of a headcase.

Well, it's late. Quinn wants to spend all day together, so I should probably get some sleep. Night!