Remind Me I'm Alive (Bechloe)

1-800-273-8255

TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter may contain triggering and/or sensitive material. Verbal abuse and suicide are some topics mentioned. Please read with caution if the contents of this chapter might trigger you. The title of the chapter is the national suicide prevention hotline in America. If you or someone you know needs help or someone to talk to, there is help available.

After leaving the cemetery, Beca found herself taking a long way home, yet again. For the past month, Beca found herself drawn to the street where Chloe lived. Every time she drove down that street, she hoped against all hope that she would get a glance of the redhead that stole her heart. She would stop her car and run over to her and tell her everything that she had wanted to say that night they lay on her couch, mainly that she was falling in love with her. No, that she loved her, that she was sure she would always love her.

She also hoped that she would see Jamie. Then she could hit him with her car. She didn't really want that. But she would be lying if it wasn't a fun thought.

Arriving at home, Beca was just going to grab her phone charger before going to Blair's to get the letter from Chloe. Her mind was running wild with what it could possibly contain. As she went to unlock her front door, the tiny brunette glanced down at her left wrist to see her new tattoo. In a moment of pure impulse (and because she was hopelessly in love), Beca had decided to get a tattoo of the sun breaking through a rain cloud. Every time she looked at it, she thought of the bubbly redhead. Chloe was the sunshine to Beca's rain clouds, and she hoped the redhead always would be. Beca smiled as she thought of the older woman. However, her moment of joy was short-lived.

Beca felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up as she entered her home. Something was wrong. Max was barking frantically and furiously scratching at the bottom of her bathroom door.

"What it is, boy?" Beca asked. She placed her hand on the back of the dog's head, trying to calm him down. But it was to no use as the dog continued to whine and scratch at the bottom of the door.

"Okay, okay," Beca said to the older dog as she turned the door nob. Luckily the door wasn't locked.

Beca felt her heart drop as she opened the door.

It was Aubrey.

The blonde was unconscious, lying on the floor of Beca's bathroom floor. Her eyes were closed. There was an empty pill bottle in her hand and a piece of paper in the other.

It didn't take long to figure out what had happened. Aubrey had lost her battle with depression and decided to end it all.

"Aubrey!?" Beca screamed as she ran to where her friend lay. "Aubrey, what the fuck did you do!?" Beca screamed, picking the blonde up. Aubrey was cold and lifeless, but she was still barely breathing.

"Aubrey, wake up. Wake up! Please wake up! Please," Beca begged, tears running down her face as she violently tried to shake her friend awake. "Aubrey, you can't do this to me!"

"God Damn it, Emily! You were supposed to stay with her!" Beca swore as she saw her friend's breathing start to slow.

If she didn't do something quickly, Aubrey would die in her arms. She knew she didn't have much time as she fumbled for her phone, dialing 911 the second it was safely in her hand.

"911, what is your emergency?" Came the voice on the other end of the line.

"Please, I need help. My friend... she's dying!"

***

Alone in a hospital waiting room, Beca found herself struggling to fight off a panic attack. Once the shock and the adrenaline began to wear off, fear and panic began to overwhelm the tinny brunette.