(A/N): I didn't expect that much audience in such a short amount of time. I have never written something like this, so I didn't write much because I wasn't sure of the turnout. Anyway, Quinn's addiction is cocaine to those of you who were wondering. Also, this chapter is about Quinns past.

"Daddy! I made you something!" A six year old Quinn screams to the man. "Daddy?"

Russell Fabray was currently passed out in his desk chair, booze still in his hand. Quinn continued to try and awake the man, but all she got out of him was a loud "Grmhppppp," before his eyes opened enough to see him taking a large gulp. After that, there was nothing. Not even his usual nod of approval was given. He was dead to the world. Quinn wondered if her father was sick. She wondered if he would ever get better.

The look on Quinn's face when the maid ushered her out of the mans office was heart-wrenching. All the little girl had wanted to do was show him the picture she drew of him. You could say Quinn didn't come from a loving family. You'd be 100% correct. Her mother was never really around, and when she was she was on the phone with her clients. Quinn didn't even think she was that interested in her work, she just needed a reason to get away from her kids.

The maid took pity on her. She thought about what it felt like to understand nothing but one thing: no one was interested in her. At such a young age it's really the child's parents job to make them feel special, to help them find their abilities and embrace them. Sadly, though, Quinn's parents didn't even do the bare minimum with her, leaving the maids to change her diapers and give her baths. Sure, they would show her off at the banquets they hosted, but that was the extent of the time they spent with the child. Quinn knew she was a prop to them, and as soon as she was old enough they would pawn her off to a nice boy with pockets deeper than the Mediterranean Sea.

"Mom, I have something to tell you," Quinn let out in a breath of confidence.

Quinn had a lot of time to herself. She often had very little to do, and when you're bored for so long your mind comes up with topics to occupy you with. Usually, Quinn's brain would think about her current situation, recent events, her friends, etc. After all this thinking, she has come to a conclusion. She's gay. She cant deny that when her and Santana kissed as an "experiment", she liked it. So many things add up that make this true. All she has to do now is come out.

"Quinn, can it wait? I have a lot of paperwork," Judy Fabray let out a huff of annoyance, and continued writing stuff down. Just the response she expected. Jesus, it became clearer to her everyday how little the woman cared about her.

"No! I haven't asked for anything over the last 14 years. Not a single thing. All i want is your attention for 15 seconds!" Quinn was yelling. This wasn't normal for her. She had mastered the art of repressing her feelings a long time ago, but Judy has never cared enough to pay attention to the words her daughter spoke. It's about damn time she listened to her.

Mrs. Fabray was taken aback. "Alrighty, then. Get on with it,"

"There's no other way to put it but, I'm gay. Now before you say anything, I'm 100% sure about this, and I wanted to let you know the actual me," As if she knew anything about Quinn besides her name. As if she could do anything with this information besides lock it deep down in her filing cabinet along with the rest of things that could put a damper on the Fabray name.

"Quinn, That was a funny joke. This reminds me.. I have set up a date with you and that nice Chandler boy, he seems so sweet," Damn did the Fabrays know how to put on an act.

"But.. Mo-" Quinn started to let out before being immediately shut down.

"Don't," her mother whispered before pointing at the door. "Go before you say something you can't take back," Quinn honestly did not expect her to care. Considering her mother is more worried about cups leaving ring stains on her furniture than she is about her daughter, you would think her sexuality would be none of her concern. Besides that, the rejection she felt was unbearable. She felt like she was being stabbed right in the heart. Quinn locked herself in her room and slumped against the door until her body hit the ground. She cried until her eyes weren't able to produce anymore tears. A sleepy Quinn lay sprawled out on the floor, arms wrapped tightly around a stuffed animal that the maid, Mrs. Jackson, had given her. Her eyes drooped until they were fully shut.

As Quinn got older, her hatred for her parents grew. After 15 years of neglect, she was pretty damn sure she had the right to hate them. She was completely and utterly heartbroken about the lack of relationship between her and her parents, but she would never let them know that. Oh no, that would be completely out of the question. She hid her hurt behind brink walls she put up to protect herself. She swore she wouldn't let anyone hurt her.

She needed to rebel. She needed to make them hurt as much as she hurt. She was so hellbent on this that she destroyed herself to destroy them. Of course, they didn't care about her. They cared about their reputation. She started out small. Smoking in front of her parents acquaintances at the banquets and dinner parties that her parents set up. Then drinking. One night, though, she couldn't take it anymore. She loaded her face with makeup, but then slipped on her rainbow beanie, shirt, suspenders, leggings, anything she could find.

Imagine a 15 year old covered head to toe in rainbow walking into a banquet of a bunch of 50 year old republicans. And to top it off, she got Santana to hold her hand the whole time. Occasionally she would kiss the Latina on the cheek, sometimes the lips. Oh how Quinn was yelled at for that. But the whole time they were screaming at her, she laughed. She laughed and laughed and laughed. Part of it was because she found it genuinely funny, but the other part was because it was her way of dealing with the rejection that still lingered in Judy and Russell's eyes.

Now, at 17 years old, she was done with the rebellion. She just needed to escape. She had found it in the arms of Rachel. But when Puck offered her the chance to literally forget her troubles, she couldn't deny. Quinn likes to think that if Puck hadn't caught her in a moment of weakness, she would've said no.

But Quinn also likes to think mermaids are real.