All Alone

Chapter Twelve

WARNING: SLIGHT TRIGGER WARNING! IT IS WORSE THAN LAST CHAPTER.

Brittany handed Santana a glass of water and sat down next to her. "Santana I'm really confused."

"I know." The Latina sighed.

"I don't know what to do."

"I know."

"What should I do?"

Santana sighed deeply, closing her eyes. She opened them once more. "I don't know."

The blonde looked at her with a furrowed brow. "Are you gonna tell me what happened? Because like I said I'm really, really confused."

"Look... I was just having a little flashback. That's all. No big deal." The Latina said, trying to sound convincing.

Brittany shook her head. "It looked like a big deal to me. Something really bad happened to you Santana. And I know that maybe you aren't ready to talk about it but... I just wanna help you."

Santana's eyes were closed again and she wasn't opening them. "You're right. Something did happen. But I have flashbacks like that a lot. They've just never been in front of someone else before. So this isn't really anything new."

The blonde stared into her eyes, or eyelids rather, hoping that she'd open them. When she didn't Brittany spoke anyway. "Well I'd really like it if you could tell me."

The shorter girl's eyes flew open and she roughly reached into her back pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. She lit up quickly and took a long drag. "Look... like I said. Feelings aren't my thing, alright? All I'm ready to say..." She paused, perhaps thinking about how the word 'ready' implied too much because when she continued she backtracked. "All I'm gonna say is that my dad is a fucking douche bag, alright. And sometimes some things just remind me of that. Like today."

Brittany sighed. "I'm sorry. This is all my fault, isn't it?"

"No. I mean... yes you kinda caused the flashback but so do lot's of other things too." Santana said. She took another drag.

The blonde waved the smoke away from her face. "Well I'm sorry."

"Whatever. Let's stop talking about this, k? It's over."

Brittany agreed against her better judgement. "Okay. What do you wanna talk about."

Santana finished off her cigarette and put it out on her arm.

"Why'd you do that?" Brittany gasped, looking down at the small circle appearing on the other girl's arm.

The raven-haired girl shrugged. "What? No big deal. I do it all the time." She dipped her fingers in the cup of cold water and pressed them against her burn mark.

Brittany was still staring, mouth agape, eyes wide.

Santana sighed, annoyed. "Look, it's fine. It goes down a little. I mean it leaves a tiny mark but it doesn't matter, okay?"

The blonde's breath hitched as she fully looked at her friend's arm. There were at least ten other burn marks just like it. How had she never noticed this? The marks were smaller, like they had been there for a long time. Some looked more recent than others.

Santana followed her line of vision and shifted uncomfortably, turning her arm over so that Brittany couldn't stare anymore. "Look it's not like self harm or whatever the fuck you're thinking, alright? I just don't wanna put it out on anything else and like... start a fire... It's not a big deal! Seriously!" Then she pulled her shorts down over her thighs a bit for some reason.

Brittany clasped her hands in front of her, eyes downcast. What Santana had done was not good. She said it was no big deal, but the documentaries that they made them watch in school on depression begged to differ. What was she supposed to do? Tell someone? Ignore it?

The shorter girl must've read her mind because she sighed again. "Brittany please don't go telling people. It doesn't matter, alright? I'm fucking fine."

"Okay, okay." Brittany said. "I think I'm gonna go home. We have school tomorrow."

Santana turned away. "Whatever."

Brittany walked home feeling less than the clarity she had felt just hours before.