Hey Readers, I'm hoping you are enjoying the story so far. I'm sorry it's so angsty, I promise that it'll get better. (This is my first fanfic after all). Anyways, with that said... It might take me a few days to upload the next chapter. My next day off for work is Tuesday. bleh.
Welp, thanks for sticking with me. :)
Chapter 4
The streetlights are the only light I see in my life. Walking at night gets my thoughts to settle. Sometimes I think that thinking makes me insane. The constant reminders of all the things I've failed at always play on repeat in my mind when I'm around my parents. I can see the disappointment on their faces. I've stopped in the middle of the street before and felt the world turning around me. I've come to know the truth that I'm small in this world, but I'm alive. That counts for something, right? The days and the nights fight for my attention, for my soul. But as every hour and every minute pass, I know that I am alone.
People say that no one really likes being alone; I'm one of those people. But there is something to being alone. It's tough. There's something raw about being alone.
I've been lying in bed for the past hour trying to feel something. Trying to feel some ounce of life in me. But you cannot force an emotion. Just like you can't force being in love.
I wander a lot. Times when I can't feel anything, I wander. Personally, I think it comes from not having any friends, or in fact, not having anyone at all really.
There was a time that a part of me ached to be a part of a group, to be liked by people. I wanted that feeling of being so close to someone that I'd kill for them. It just never happened. I use to be good friends with Santana Lopez and Brittany Pierce. They were actually pretty okay. We did a lot together; we were the Unholy Trinity. But then life happened. We became distant. It happens to everyone at some point. My name is Quinn Fabray and I may not have any friends, but I had myself and that was enough. For now anyways.
Sometimes when I go wandering at night, I'll stop outside of Santana's house. Not to be creepy or anything, it's just when I was friends with her, I didn't feel so alone in this world. Her house had memories that weren't so bad, but it always makes my heart ache for something more.
I know the fallout was my fault. I had gone through this punk stage in my life. I'll admit, it was not one of my finest hours. But I was just so angry and I didn't care about anything. I was desperate to feel something. That seems to be a theme in my life. Feeling. People take it for granted. Even the sad people. The struggle in life for me was not being heartbroken, but rather just the act of emotions at all. I had this fear that my heart did not have the capacity to feel things that there was a screw loose in my head… that I had been wired wrong. Or even worse, I thought that maybe I was just one huge mistake and I wasn't supposed to be here at all.
In recent times, since S started talking to me again, we've picked up our rhythm. It's not the same of course. The beat is different and the melody sounds less familiar. But it's getting there. We're getting there.
She never asks how I am anymore, and I never ask for anything, at all really.
Anyways, that Friday night, I'm walking with my hands tucked in my pocket. I'm passing Santana's house, when I see her.
Rachel fucking Berry strolling on out of Santana's house like it's the most normal thing in the world. She looks happy. It was a vision of looking inside a mirror and wanting, needing everything. Because everything I saw was everything I was missing.