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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.

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You storm into your bedroom and grab the pills off the nightstand. “Do you really, want this Rachel?” you whisper to yourself, but you know the answer. Your choice was made for you today, by your so called friends, and their inability to stand up for you, not even those who call themselves educators give a shit. These pills according to your research should give you a few hours of unbothered dreamless sleep, allowing you to forget about all your problems, and frankly that is exactly what the little voice inside your head ordered. You grab three pills and swallow them with some water. You turn on some sad depressing music you’ve been frequenting the last few months, and then lay down waiting for sleep to take you away from this hell hole for a few hours.

A few hours later you wake up and see the clock read 2 a.m. You sigh because you needed a few more hours for you just to wake up and go to school; another pill will more than likely do the trick. Maybe you can take one more and have a few more hours of rest before getting ready for hell. As you contemplate your decision you notice you have a voicemail. You really think someone would willingly call you Rachel? As, if you know it is probably just a practical joke much like your life. You know Bob is right, yup that sounds like a good name for your inner self. Hmm, masculine just like everyone thinks you are. Looking at your phone you decide to just listen to the voicemail.

“Rachel, sweetie we just wanted to check in on you. Hope you’re doing well, your father and I have decided to go to Italy for a few months, not sure on how many maybe six or more. Yeah, I’ll tell her H, yeah, I know. Sorry about that honey, your dad was just being himself. He wants to let you know, that to not let anyone know we are gone, and to stay out of trouble. Well, we have to go, but we’ll send you a postcard maybe…not sure if we remember. We probably won’t be able to contact you for a while, so we’ll talk in a couple months. Love you sweetie.”
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Rachel’s grip on the phone tightens until her knuckles turn white. How could they do that to me! Rachel wonders with tears starting to cloud her eyes. She couldn’t believe they actually have the nerve to call just to tell her they aren’t going to be parental figures for the next few months! “Fuck them! Who the fuck do they think they are! They obviously don’t care about me, why should I care about them!” Rachel screams into the empty soulless house. The house that was starting to become her tomb, she just didn’t know how much more she was willing to expose herself too. With those final thoughts, Rachel runs to her dad’s room and rips the door right off of its hinges.

She takes a deep breath as she notices the thin layer of dust that has formed over everything in the room. She falls to the ground as the storm clouds in her eyes give way, and begin pouring all her pain and misery out into the cold empty master bedroom. She cries over losing her dads, no fuck them, not her dads she just lost Hiram and Leroy, not her dads, real dads would never let what is happening to her happen in the first place. The reality of everything finally crashed down on Rachel as she begins ripping clothes, throwing things into the wall, smashing picture frames, and upturning furniture, as she lets her rage overtake her and destroy their room. She only stops when she notices blood slowly dripping down her hand.
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I watch as the blood slowly drips from the cut in my hand as it travels down to splatter the white carpet covering the room. Who knew that watching something like blood flow out of my body could be as calming as sleeping in a hemic? Fuck, if this is what junkies feel when they take drugs, I think I just found mine. All the pain you’ve been feeling is gone now Rachel, you see what could happen if you only listen to me more often, Bob mocks her. I think that I found a new way to release all the pain I am constantly feeling. I can’t feel any of the pain from today, it’s as if my blood just washed it all away. This is something that I have to try, maybe after school, I’ll pick up some supplies to ensure that I do this properly.

You muse about the possibilities as you go to your bathroom to take a shower. Today school would be different, you wouldn’t be the same person everyone hated, for they didn’t know it yet but Rachel Barbra Berry was officially dead.

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As I stand in the shower, I can’t help but think about all the bullshit that lead me here. Fuck, why did I have to be given the shitty life that I have. I never did anything to deserve this bullshit, but yet here I am watching the blood pour from my hand and enjoying it. Sigh, maybe I should just kill myself already.

No not yet Rachel. Remember that we still have a lot of things planned for us to get done, before we can succumb to darkness. You are quite right Bob, we have to stick to the plan, or whatever it doesn’t matter, but we can’t die just yet, there is still revenge to serve out. We still have to make the people who have made our lives hell regret their actions, and when they’ll want to fix things it will be far too late.

I walk out of the shower and notice it is already 10 a.m., but I don’t give a fuck. Who cares if it is already late, no one will even notice. As I take a peek inside my closet, I decide that today I will wear jeans and a hoodie. Sweatshirts and skirts will have to be thrown out, later today, but I really should get going to school. I grab my backpack and head downstairs.
I know that I should be going to school, so that I can put the next part of my plan into action, but for that to work out I have to make a small pit stop at Mr. Ryerson’s home.

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Once Rachel arrives at Mr. Ryerson’s home she doesn’t know if she should go in, or not. She knows that this is needed for her to start her plan, and for her eventual suicide, but taking this step means there is no turning back. After today there will not be a will she, won’t she when it comes to dying; it will all be a matter of when after this point. Deciding that it is for the best Rachel approaches the home and knocks.

“Alright, alright, I’m coming! Don’t get your knickers in a twist,” Mr. Ryerson shouts as he opens the door. Shocked would be an understatement to the way he was feeling when he opened the door and saw of all people Rachel Berry. He was stunned, why was she here, were the cops close by? Oh, fuck, I have to run, he thought. Just as he was about to close the door Rachel spoke up.

“Look, I know that I am probably the last person you expected to see when you opened the door, but” she starts as she holds up a roll of one hundred dollar bills “ I hear that you have some stuff that I need. While I did look at other possible dealers, you seemed to be the safest bet to get me what I want. And while I know that you mostly sell pot, I’m in the market for some stronger shit. Catch my drift?”

Mr. Ryerson could do nothing but nod in the strange predicament he found himself in. Rachel was the last person on earth he thought he would ever be selling to, but the world was a strange place that way wasn’t it? Sometimes the people that seem like they have their whole lives together are the ones that are sinking the fastest. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Mr. Ryerson told her that a package would be waiting for her when she got home containing some sample items for her. Nodding Rachel relented the money and went on her way to school.

It was already one and the bell for the second half of the day was about to go off, so Rachel headed to the school parking lot.
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Fuck, Ryerson is a fucking nut job.

That he is Bob, but he is getting us some of the items that we need, and let me tell you this blunt seems pretty good to me.

Of course, it seems good Rachel, you’ve never smoked in your life, and the first time will seem good to you. Fuck, off Bob, just let me enjoy this, will you?

Fuck whatever let's go inside, phase two of this plan needs to be put into action, Rachel.

You’re right Bob lets do this shit!

I sigh as I open the door to my car and head towards the school entrance. This isn’t what I wanted to be doing with my life, but things have a funny way of working out don’t they? I really don’t have a concrete plan, more like bits and pieces of what I want to do, but I know for sure I will not be going to Glee today. They can all go fuck themselves for all I care. What have they ever done for me? Nothing, that is what, but it doesn’t matter, soon everything will be okay when I’m gone. I smile at myself as I walk into my History class. Hmm, I hadn’t realized how much time I spent in my car, and now the school day was almost over. I should have just skipped today.
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Quinn entered her history class and headed for her usual seat in the back, but stopped in her tracks as she saw who was sitting in the seat next to it. Rachel Berry was sitting where no one else sat, ever. It was weird enough that she wasn’t sitting in the front of the class like always, but she was sitting next to her, things couldn’t get any weirder.

As Quinn takes a seat she is assaulted with the scent of weed and cologne. She turns and gawks at Rachel, “Rachel are you fucking baked?” she whispers. Rachel noticing someone pulled her out of her argument with Bob, looks at Quinn scowls and says “ the fuck do you care,” and goes on to ignore Quinn for the rest of the period. As the bell rings Quinn can’t help but wonder what the fuck happened. Rachel never seemed like someone who would do drugs, much less in school. Quinn knew things were getting bad for Rachel, but she just didn’t know to what extent.

If only Quinn knew that things were about to get so much worse, she would have reached out that very day.