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Never Too Late to Become Unbroken

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Come on you can do it. It’s not like if anyone is ever going to know. Besides, would it be so bad if someone did find out little miss attention whore! I sigh, because I know my inner voice is right, I want as many people as possible to find out what I’m planning; yet I’m not really sure why anymore. I’m at a point where I don’t know if I want someone to stop me, or push me off the cliff. I chuckle a cold heartless laugh, because, at one point this whole idea seemed outrageous and unfathomable, but things change and so do people. So then why does this feel so wrong? Nothing really matters anymore though except for the pain. Pain, the one constant reminder that I failed at life, and I am not sure how much more I can take. People take any opportunity to chip away at my heart and it’s almost gone. It’s getting to be too much, but is this really the right thing to do? Am I really prepared to go down this path? I mull things over for a bit as I look up.

I glance towards the full length mirror in my room and stare at myself. I let out a low groan as my eyes stare back at you, no, not my eyes, those aren't my eyes. The once sparkling chocolate pools are no more, and all that stands in their place are brown pools of misery and sadness; the lifeless and broken eyes mock me daring me to back down. I notice the now permanent bags under my eyes, and I know it’s going to take a lot of makeup to cover them up from now on, but I can't dwell on this right now. As I stare at myself I can't help but see that everyone is right I am too fat, I wonder if loosing ten more pounds this month would make me look at least decent, but I know it won’t. And there they are those huge man hands that everyone seems to fucking notice. Fuck I just cussed in my head I have to stop that, oh god I did it again.

“One more day Rachel, if not you know what you have to do,” I whisper to myself. Maybe today will be better and I won’t do it, I know it’s naive to think that there is still hope, but without it, I’d, be completely broken, and I’m not quite ready to admit that to myself.
I rush down the stairs and decide to miss breakfast today because I need to try to lose some weight. I'm too big, and people don’t like that about me, so I have to start somewhere. Oops, I almost forgot the pills and I go back upstairs to hide them, but where. Where can I hide these pills so my dads won’t find them? Under the pillows seems like a good place. But does it really matter they're never home anyways, so how are they going to find them I reason with myself, so with that last thought I decide to leave them on my night stand, call it one last cry for help if you will.
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Rachel Berry knew that if things didn’t change she was going to go through with her plan, but that didn’t stop her from giving things one more try. In classic Berry fashion she enters the school wearing a reindeer sweeter, a plaid skirt, long knee socks, and Mary James; while the outfit was normal the smile she had plastered on her face was fake just like the one she wore every day at school now.

“Maybe I don’t have to go through with this plan of mine. What I’m about to do is highly dangerous and shouldn’t be done. I know many people do it, but what about my future in Broadway? What about…” Rachel’s thoughts were interrupted as a too familiar sting hit her face. “Fag spawn,” Korofsky yells as he laughs. The hallway bursts into laughter as Rachel tries to keep her show face on. “Great just what I needed this morning, god why does everyone hate me!” Rachel thought as she bursts into tears and ran into the girl’s bathroom. Little did Rachel know that someone had watched everything that happened with a frown on their face.

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It’s just a slushy. I am used to them by now, but they still hurt like fuck! Language Rachel, a proper vocabulary is important you chastise yourself. The first thing you notice as you enter a bathroom stall is a picture of you with a dick and the words Tranchel written on top. Fuck! How can people be so cruel? Vocabulary out the window, that’s something the old Rachel Berry, would care about, but if I’m going to go through with it things need to change. So Fuck, Shit, Motherfucker, cunt, whore. How pathetic Rachel cursing in your head, who is going to hear you? Whose ever heard you before? With a long sigh you get ready to face the rest of the day, but before you do, you vow not to say a single word today unless absolutely necessary, maybe someone would notice the change in demeanor, and I don't know help you.

As you walk out of the bathroom you crash into someone since your eyes were trained firmly on the ground you didn’t notice where you were going. You look to see who you ran into and see a furious Latina on the floor. “Watch where the Fuck you’re going man hands!” Santana screams at you. You get up and run to the auditorium. Fuck why can’t I do anything right? I’m going through with it no matter what unless glee changes my mind. I’ll just hide here in the auditorium until practice, maybe someone will notice if I’m not in class.
Unfortunately for Rachel, no one noticed she was gone all day. People were more than relieved not to have to encounter her. The peace and quiet surrounding her classmates and teachers were a welcome change for all except for one suspicious person.

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Glee club rolled around and everyone was gathered in the choir room. Santana was making out with Britany, while the boys minus Kurt and Blaine looked at them trying to hide their erections as Finn chanted “mailman, mailman, mailman,” as his mantra. Tina and Mercedes were gossiping with Kurt, Blaine, and Quinn. No one noticed Rachel wasn’t there yet, nor did they give a shit.

As Mr. Schuster arrived late, as usual, he began talking “So guys, we need to start thinking about what we want to do for sectionals. We don’t have that much time and we need to come up with a set list, a...” He was interrupted as Rachel walked into the choir room. As soon as she set foot inside the room, all eyes fell on her.
I know I love attention but do they all need to be looking at me like if I’m some sort of bug under a microscope. “Rachel why are you late, ” says Mr. Schuster with annoyance in his voice. “I,” you begin but are cut off by Kurt. “It is obvious isn’t it Mr. Schu she wants attention. She craves to be in the spotlight, so any chance she gets to be the center of attention she jumps at it. Just ignore her and go on with the talk about sectionals.”

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Your flabbergasted how could Kurt think that this was about attention? He’s so stupid god I just want to tell him to fuck off, but I’m not sure I can do that. “I lost track of time, and that’s why I’m late,” you correct. “Just take a seat; we were discussing sectionals now anyone has any ideas?” Mr. Schu questions. Maybe Santana can sing partnered with Mercedes their voices are like mustard and ketchup, not that you would know since you refuse to eat processed shit like that.
“I think that the solo should,” you begin. “Enough Rachel everyone deserves a solo not just you! Stop being so selfish all the time, and grow up,” Mr.Schusther yells. Yu, I’m taking those pills. Fuck this shit. You stand up grab your bag and run out with tears streaming down your face.