So a lot of people did a thing with Rachel and suicide. As much as I DESPISE Rachel. I have a lot of sympathy for the crap she has to put up with. Like I face stuff like that, too, so I get it. And I'm hoping this is just a really long one-shot. Note- I started this on the 1st of December. How long will it take to finish? And knowing me I'll end up adding moreto it...
So here's my attempt
I seriously don't know where I went wrong. I thought I had everything I needed. Perfect parents, perfect boyfriend, talent, smarts, but it all came crashing down around me, crushing me, drowning me, smothering me.
The first thing to go was Finn. He broke it off as soon as I refused to put out until marriage. He found someone willing. Fucking Santana. The girl that took his V card, slept with anyone and everyone, probably had more sexually transmitted diseases than imaginable, and, as it was obvious, was totally head over heels in love with Brittany, who happened to be dating, and sleeping with, Artie. What really hurt me was that he didn't bother to say it to my face. All I got was a text worded- Rch, sry but if u wont have sex w me until mrge, which will nvr happen, then ill be movin on- Finn- (Translated for those of you not able to read- Rach, sorry but if you won't have sex with me until marriage, which will never happen, then I'll be moving on) I admit i cried every night for two weeks until I decided he wasn't worth it.
Every time I walked through the halls, I saw them holding hands, him all smiley while she stared at everyone's junk. And I mean everyone. Half of me wanted to tell him that his girlfriend was a cheating ho-bag. The other just wanted to leave it be and let him suffer. Guess which one won? Of course, the interfering part of her beat out the bitchy half. So she told him. And he through it back in her face as jealousy. "You're jealous. I broke up with you for someone to satisfy my needs, and you're mad because you have no one to follow you around like a fucking puppy." The words hit her. Colder than the slushy that cascaded down her face everyday.
One thing she hated most was that everyone assumed that all she wanted was attention and control. She didn't want to be like that, but it's how she was raised. And especially when people suggest that she needs people to be at her every command. That's what really hits her hard.
So she goes home, effectively missing every class that day resulting in being grounded, and cries herself to sleep.
Second thing to go were my parents. It's not like they died or anything, but all they could do was fight. Daddy insisted that he had never slept with her, but Dad and I knew better. He was fooling around. And, to make things worse, it was with Shelby. My mom. I would've never found out if I hadn't come home that day and heard it. The moans. I's walked in on her dad's before, but this sound was different. It was a girl this time. I heard Daddy say something and more moans, and I knew that Dad had to know.
It was awkward telling him. I was in tears by the end. I knew what would come from this information, but I also knew what would come from withholding it. My dad was in a rampage. I had never seen him that mad. They fought all night- Daddy telling him none of it meant anything, Dad saying something about how he thought it was real. And so, the Berry family was split. Daddy wanted no part in the care of me. He was mad at me for outing him. Dad assured me that he still loved me, but I knew better.
As Quinn had said, "Nobody can love Manhands."
That night, she cried. And ripped. Ripped up pictures of her "friends", songs, "family". She ripped up everything that made her her.
She threw away the sweaters. The sweaters that defined her. She threw away the knee-highs. The pleated skirts. The only things she kept were some jeans she had bought, but never wore, some T-shirts and sweatshirts.
Maybe, she thought, now they won't have anything to make fun of me.
The next day at school, I was greeted with a purple slushy in the face from Karofsky followed by a shove into the lockers from Finn as he walked past with Santana. O tried to ignore the laughs from everyone, including her fellow Glee clubbers. Though no teachers were visible, I was sure they were all laughing in the teachers lounge knowing that, out there, I was being harassed. As always, I did nothing about it, instead just solemnly walking into the bathroom where I proceeded to scrub the corn syrup off of my gray sweatshirt. They doors opened, and I slipped unnoticed into a stall.
"I kind of felt bad," I heard Brittany say.
"I don't. Little bitch deserves it," Santana said. Kissed were heard, echoing off the walls of the bathroom.
"What did she do to deserve it?" Brittany asked, voicing my thoughts exactly.
"She acts like she's so much better than everyone and that she deserves everything."
From then on, I decided that I wouldn't ask for solos, and if I was offered one, I would turn it down.
People would like me after than, right?
For the next two weeks, I didn't offer any opinions in Glee. And no one noticed. Kurt auditioned, didn't get it and glared at me as if it was my fault. I just pretended not to notice. Mercedes seemed to notice a change, but she kept it to herself, still talking about me when she thought I couldn't hear. Puck kept giving me odd, worried glances which I overlooked, for now. Finn was still crazy about Santana and didn't notice anything. Kurt was... hurtful to say the least. Quinn was smug. Brittany was clueless. Artie was worried. Mike and Tina were off in the land of Asian. Sam was just there. Never offering his opinion. And Mr. Schue, well, frankly, all he cared about was winning Sectionals and getting Emma back. He payed no attention to me.
I pretended to be happy. Mr. Schue asked how my dads were (no one knew about the split), and I replied with a short "Fine" before going back to staring at my lap. Still no offers or comfort. Still no nothing. No one cared about lonely me.
The day marking the second week of no singing was the worst. I had ran out of clothes to change into after the sixth slushy, and, not counting bruised from every other day, I had at least ten new bruises. A couple in the shape of hands.
It seemed as though one Glee clubber had stopped laughing as my misfortunes. He still did nothing to help, but it was an improvement.
It was after the final bell rang that I cracked. Just as I was stepping out of my last class, I was shoved into a locker by at least four big, huge football players. I stood my ground and continued walking, forcing myself to keep confidence.
I made my way to my locker. And when I opened it notes toppled out. Seven of them.
Curiously, I grabbed one and opened it.
It read-
Stupid slut,
Fucking die. Do you realize no one here wants you? The fucking outcasts hate you. You're mom didn't want you, and I bet your fag fathers don't want you.
Tears blurred my vision. I clawed another one open, then another and another until I had read everyone. Each one worse than the other. I crumpled to the ground and cried.
"Rachel?" A voice asked. I looked up seeing Artie looking at me, sympathy in his eyes.
I just stared brokenly at him.
"Rachel.. Oh my god. It got this bad?" He looked at me. I'm sure I looked terrible. My clothes were stained, and I had a bruise on my jaw from the fighting.
"It's nothing," I muttered.
He scoffed. "Yeah, and I can dance better than Mike."
I laughed lightly. "It's nothing I can't handle. I'm Rachel Berry, I can handle everything." I forced a smile to my face, and he believed it.
"Okay, bye." He rolled off, and I stood and went to my car where I proceeded to break down again.
That was when the first cut appeared.
I meant to stop, I really did, but it made everything better. I could feel more than hate for myself. Two months had gone by, and I had filled one arm with the occasional cut on my stomach.
That's when I lost the third thing- my talent. I couldn't bear to sing without breaking down in tears. My voice was gone for not talking for to long, and Mr. Schue didn't even bother to ask if I wanted a part anymore. Puck and Artie kept tabs on me. I knew they saw when I went into the bathroom, as well as when I came out. What they couldn't see were the bandages covering my arms, death threats, or blades hidden away. I'm sure they suspected it, but they probably didn't think it to be possible. I think the others, especially Kurt, had noticed the change in me. The bags under my eyes were a major sign of the terrifying nightmares I had every night.
They had no idea how bad it had gotten. I was afraid of going to bed. I couldn't bear what I saw. But the more times I saw the same dreams, the more I wondered if it was really an option. Would anyone really care? I'm sure they wouldn't.
And when I wasn't picked by anyone when we were picking for duets, that's when I decided. Tonight would be the night.
There I was, in my Dad's bathroom, hand full of pills. Depression medication.
I had thought it through. Dad was with his mom, and I was home alone. "Sick" I had told him. As soon as he was out the door, I ran to his bathroom, where I stood now. My hand shook. I tipped my head back. The pills fell into my mouth, and I spit them out in realization.
I was 17. I hadn't done anything. I still didn't want to live, but I decided I would live. I had three days until Friday. Three days until I die. Three days to live.
Plus, I, being a Berry, had to leave more of an impression in death.
On Tuesday, I got piss drunk and went to school. I did a Kurt and puked on Ms. Pillsberry's shoes earning me detention on Monday. Yeah, guess who's not going to show? In Glee, I told Mr. Schue he was a shit teacher that didn't give a damn about his teacher... Then, proceeded to puke on his shoes...
On Wednesday, I slept with multiple guys. Most of them high, but it was still experience.
On Thursday, I skipped every class. I sat in Glee and cried. Just cried. Then when Glee time came around, I skipped and went to a random class and cried.
Finally, on Friday, I skipped school. I sat there and wrote. Each person in Glee got a note. Along with Mr. Schue and Ms. Pillsberry, my dads, mom, Jesse, Sue Sylvester, and just a note for the school. I instructed that it be read at my funeral. Because I'm Rachel Berry. And I go out with a bang.
Literally.
Artie POV-
Puck and I sat in my living room. We were talking about what could be going on with Rachel.
"Dude," Puck said," she came to school drunk. Of course, she's depressed. Probably pissed at everyone, too."
"Do you think she'd... try anything?"
Puck shook his head. "She's Rachel. She cares way too much about her future and shit like that."
That's when the gun shot rang out. I wheeled myself outside behind Puck. Neighbors came running out of every house but one.
The Berry's.
Puck, noticing this too, ran into the Berry's house. I just whipped out my phone and dialed 911 (something everyone else was too stupid to think of).
Puck POV-
I ran into Berry's house, fear overcoming me. It was true. They... We had pushed her into becoming suicidal. I ran up the steps and into the room that couldn't be anyone other than Berry's... Rachel's. I saw her. She was laying on her bed, arms covered in still bleeding slits surrounding scars. There were envelopes all around her. Each with a different name. Each with blood on the edges. There was a gun next to her. She hadn't shot herself. She was sending a warning. Perhaps seeing if anyone would save her. I stared at her. I felt the tears flow down my cheeks. I didn't care. Paramedics rushed past me, picking up her motionless body. "You coming?" One asked me. I nodded soundlessly and followed them back downstairs and into the van.
Rachel Berry had broken.
And I was one to break her.
In the paramedic van, I sent a text to everyone in Glee, along with Mr. Schue and the hot red head. I sent one to Jesse and Rachel's mom (don't ask). I sent one to Sue.
I didn't send one to her dad's.
Maybe they cared, but I was sure they didn't.
I got a text back. From Finn-
Puck, srsly, grow up no 1s gunna fall 4 dat. (Puck, seriously, grow up. No one's going to fall for that.)
I replied-
I'm not joking, dick. It's partially your fault
I didn't get a reply back.
I got messages from everyone else saying one thing each-
On my way
Maybe they did care about her now, but they didn't when she was normal Rachel.
No one did.
Brittany POV-
San and I ran the whole way to the hospital seeing as neither of us had cars. I may seem like I don't care about Rachel, but she's nice to me. No matter how mean I may be to her. And I have dreams about her voice. And I have a tiny crush on her.
Tiny? What am I saying? It's anything but tiny.
The tears escaped my eyes as soon as I got the text. Puck may be a joker, but he would never joke about something like that.
So we ran. It took us twenty minutes, but we got there. Sweat soaked and not caring. I burst through the doors. The first thing I saw surprised me. Puck was crying into his hands, muttering about it being his fault. Artie looked dead. Mr. Schue had bloodshot eyes and was telling Emma, who was also crying, that none of this would've happened if he had payed more attention. Mike was comforting Tina, breaking a little. Finn looked guilty and ashamed and like part of him had been run over by a truck. Kurt was in sweats and was curled up in a ball, shaking from sobs. Mercedes was eating. Something she did when she was sad. And Quinn... Quinn was no where to be seen. Sam was there, but I payed him no attention. His hair was too blond to look at. I feared it would blind me.
"How is she?" Santana asked. She hadn't shed a tear, but she was putting a lot of effort into not breaking, I could tell.
"She's in surgery," Puck said looking up. He looked worse than I thought he would. "She lost a lot of blood. Mr. Schue and I donated. We had the same type as her."
"She's alive though?" Puck nodded. Santana sighed in relief and slipped into the chair next to Finn. I ran over to Artie and started to cry into her shoulder.
We all needed Rachel... If only we had seen that before.
If only.
3rd POV-
Everyone bolted up when a nurse walked in.
"How is she?" They asked simultaneously before glaring at each other.
"She just got out of surgery. She's in a coma... It's up to her to wake up."
They slumped back into their seats.
An officer walked into the hospital.
"Are you guys friends of Rachel Berry?" He asked them. He had the notes Puck had saw in his hand. They nodded. "She left notes. Is a Shelby here?" They shook their heads except Puck who spoke.
"She's catching the first flight from California," he said.
The officer nodded and moved on. "Artie?" He wheeled himself forward and got his notes. The rest of the Glee Clubbers got theirs and so did the two teachers. Sue burst through the doors just as they called her name. She also took her note. "Daddy? And Dad?" Everyone looked around, finally realizing Rachel's dads weren't present. "Okay. Jesse?" Many were shocked. Others weren't.
Puck looked up again. "He's driving in from New York. He said he'd be here as soon as possible."
"And... School? It says she wants it read at her funeral by... Mr. Schue." The man handed it to Will before turning and leaving.
Everyone stared at the note in their hand.
Brittany said, "Mine has red on the side?"
Everyone else said theirs did too. Puck, who hadn't touched his, said, "I found her, you know. Motionless. Blood. So much blood," everyone cringed, "She didn't shoot herself. She slit her wrists. With the notes." Everyone stared at the notes in their hands.
A loud sob from Kurt brought them back to reality.
Mr. Schue stood. "How about we read them allowed? In memory of her?" They wanted to say she wasn't dead yet. There was a chance. Slim. But still there.
But they agreed.
"I'll go first," he said, opening the envelope.
"Dear Mr. Schuester,
You know from the first day I liked you. You were nice and understood me. And when you started Glee club, I was the first to sign up. I'm sorry about what I said Tuesday. It was mean, but it was true. Did you know I've been depressed for half this year? Sneaking my dad's meds? How about my parents split? And it was my fault? I started cutting two weeks ago? Do you really even know me? Isn't it the teachers job to get to know the students? You really never did try with me. But I still liked you. You appreciated my talents. And you tried to care. I'm sure you did. Remember when I had that crush on you? I convinced myself that you were perfect for me? I'm really sorry about that. If anyone finds me before I die and they're able to fix me, maybe we could sing together again? I'd like that
Rachel
P.S. Stars are my thing." Will's voice broke as he read the P.S. monotonously he asked, "Who wants to go next?" Emma stood, shaking.
"Mrs. Pillsberry,
You're crazy you know that? That's what I love about you. I love seeing you in the hallways, scrubbing every door knob you pass. It makes me feel better about my OCD. You're really pretty, too. I always wanted red hair. Big eyes. Smaller nose. I looked up to you a little. You were kinda opposite of me. Quiet, shy, but I know you could sing. You're amazing. Maybe you should sing for Glee sometime. I'm sure they'd like that. Do you remember when you found me in the bathroom? Trying to puke? And you convinced yourself that I was bulimic? And I told you that I really liked this guy, and I wanted to look better, prettier so that he's notice me? I know that you were lying when you said you only felt that during high school. I won't name any names because I'm sure you're reading this aloud. Take care of things around school?
Rachel
P.S. I still never puked." Emma wiped small tears. Puck stood, tearing at the edges.
"Noah,
I know you hate it when I call you Noah, but I figured you only wanted your friends to call you Puck. Maybe I didn't deserve to. I liked you for a little. And I was really impressed when you sang Sweet Caroline, but it would've never worked out between us. We'd be better off as friends. I wish we'd have gotten the chance. Thanks for looking after me. It was stalkerish, but sweet. And I'm sure you found my body. I heard you and Artie talking next door. Sorry you had to see me like that, but it had to be done. I felt pain. A lot. I'm not going to lie. You helped cause it. You were part of the group shoving me into lockers. I still have bruises. I've gotten sick from the slushies. Did you know I have to wear glasses? Apparently corn syrup is bad for your eyes, who knew? I want you to be nice. If you think of being mean, think of me. Think of what would've happened if you were nice to me? I'm sorry to shove this in your face.
Rachel
P.S. I wish you would've been my first." Pucks cheeks turned red and more tears fell. He blamed himself more now. Santana stood, giving him a quick hug before going in from of them all and tearing up the envelope.
"Santana,
You were a bitch to me. But I liked you for some reason. You were confident, like me. And you knew what you wanted. Your voice is amazing. I never really heard it before Bad Romance. And your voice in River Deep, Mountain High was amazing. I am counting on you to try out for solos. For me? Don't get me wrong. I'm majorly peeved at you for calling me Manhands and torturing me, but suicide notes are supposed to be focusing on the good, right? God. I'm crying now. I just realized that people might actually miss me, but as long as I'm still alive they probably won't realize that they miss me. I'm glad you were Finn's first. Mostly I'm glad I wasn't. I may sound bitchy, but that's how I feel.
Rachel
P.S. Will you look after them for me? Keep them in line?" Santana rushed back to her seat, burying her head in Pucks shoulder. Looking around, Brittany stood.
"Brittany,
I'm glad you realized how amazing your voice is. And your dancing is... wow. Get Mr. Schue to give you a good number for Sectionals? You know have everyone thinks you're stupid? I don't think so. I think you're lost in your own land of ponies and unicorns. Rainbows and pots of gold. Naked Jake Gyllanhaal's and sex. Am I right? I found that to be one thing we had in common- Love for Jake Gyllanhaal. Do you remember when we were 12 and you didn't hate me? We were best friends. And we watched High Way and then Donnie Darko? I remember that. Those were the days. Before I had slushy stains on all my clothes. Before all you cared about was being popular. I miss those days.
Rachel
P.S. Visit me sometime?
We were best friends, you know," she said looking up. "She was the first person that saw me for me." Brittany walked back to her seat in a daze.
Artie wheeled himself and looked at everyone.
"Artie,
You're amazing. I would pray sometimes that you'd be able to dance. It was a wish on my Christmas list since I met you in 7th grade. I love your voice. And your rapping is... wow. When you found me in the hall crying... it wasn't for nothing. I was getting over my dads separating, and I had found them in my locker. Many more came after. Everyone wanted me gone. They said the world is better off. No one loves me. Tell me, is the world better off? I hope it is. I hope everyone is happy.
Rachel
P.S. You will dance." Artie wheeled back, not saying a word or uttering a sound.
Finn awkwardly made his way to the front, still looking dead inside.
"Finn,
I might've loved you. But after you would lead me on, tell me you love me and then you fucking dumped me because I wouldn't sleep with you? What kind of guy that loves someone does that? You tell me. I was perfectly fine with being slushied before because I had you, but when it was over I couldn't cope with not having anyone there to make me happy. I hope you like being with Santana. A girlfriend you don't have to protect. What a change. I wanted to say something nice, but I couldn't find anything.
Rachel
P.S. I'm still glad I never slept with you" Finn went back to his seat, more guilt on his face.
Kurt stumbled to the front.
"Kurt,
I had a small crush on you for a little bit. I thought you were cute, sweet, and you had an amazing style... Did I even mention your voice? I'm jealous of it. I have nothing special in mine. You have everything. I figured maybe you made fun of you because you wanted to seem cooler. Maybe people would stop making fun of you. So I didn't question it. I wanted you to be happy. I dealt with a lot of pain because of you, you know that? Maybe, if I'm alive, you can repay me. I have this cousin, you see. And he goes to Dalton Academy... I think you'd like him.
Rachel
P.S. his number is 345-392-3828" Kurt burst into another round of sobs and clutched Mercedes. She read from where she sat.
"Mercedes,
You're beautiful, you know that? And don't let anyone tell you otherwise. You're a real girl. You're proud of yourself. And oh god your voice! Amazing. Just amazing. I want you to find a guy someday and I want you to tell him that if he ever tries something on you, you've got me looking out for you. I wish we had the chance to be friends. I wish I wasn't such a royal bitch.
Rachel
P.S. It's short because I don't know much about you, though I wish I did." Mercedes settled again, crying softly into Kurt's hair.
Mike and Tina walked to the front- they had a combined note.
"Mike and Tina,
I had to write your note together. And not just because I didn't have enough envelopes. It's because you guys are so close. So similar... So Asian! Haha I love you guys. Be the power couple for Glee. Brighten spirits. Just don't be annoying like I was. God. I love you, Tina. You're so nice. And Mike, keep dancing.
Rachel
P.S. I'm seriously rethinking this."
They all cried themselves to sleep. Just like Rachel did for numerous nights.
The next morning, they awoke to Jesse St. James crying and clutching a letter. Unopened. Next to him sat Shelby, who seemed to be in a state of shock. She also clutched an unopened letter. Sue, who had returned, was reading her letter silently.
Mr. Schue said, "Sue, what does your letter say."
Sue looked up. Unshed tears in her eyes. "This girl did not deserve any of this," she said firmly before stalking out of the hospital.
"Jesse, how about yours?" A shaking Jesse stood.
"Jesse,
I don't know if you'll ever get this, but I know you cared about me. You just cared about your future more. And I liked you, loved you even. I want you to know that. And when you're world famous tell people about me. Please? I still want to be known. No matter what's happened to me. Don't tell them I killed myself. Tell them I was murdered or... something interesting. Tell them I lived to sing and I fell way to easily. Tell them I said I was lucky to have dated you. Tell them that. Please
Rachel
P.S. When I said I might have loved you. I did. Love you." He closed his eyes. Muttering, "she loved me," over and over.
"What about yours, Shelby?" Mr. Schue asked.
She shook her head. "I can't." And fled the hospital.
Everyone looked at each other. "Let's get some food," Will said walking off to the cafeteria.
After they had eaten, they went and visited Rachel. They told her about how they were sorry, they wished they could go back. And they all meant it.
Little did they know that Rachel was awake the whole time. She heard every word, and she willed her hand to move. Finally, when Puck was visiting her, her hand twitched and her eyes flew open.
She might not have everything she needed, everything she wanted, but now she knew she had good friends. She just needed to tell them about her pain.
They'd understand.
Woah. I finished it in one night. I should be writing my story for Power of the Pen. oops.
Hey! Watch trayneolligy on youtube. My best friend is the blond.
R&R?