All Alone

Chapter Sixteen

*BIG TRIGGER WARNING*

Disclaimer: there's legal stuff in there and it's probably not even true but I need it for the sake of the story so you gotta deal with it. Sorry.

A week after the confession things mostly went back to normal. Every once in a while it was awkward but for the most part it was normal.

Santana promised Brittany that she would never hurt herself again.

Promised.

But then something happened.

Santana's phone rang while Brittany was over and the brunette answered it, naturally.

"Mom?"

Pause.

"What?"

Pause.

"No I don't understand."

Pause.

"I didn't do it!"

Pause.

"What?! Mom..."

Pause.

"Why don't you believe me?!"

Pause.

"No... No please..." Santana was crying.

Long pause.

She was sobbing. "Please don't mom. Please don't. Please. I didn't do it! I promise I didn't!"

Long pause.

"Mamí no! Please don't do this to me. Please don't do it." She was screaming and sobbing.

Pause.

"No... Please..."

Then her mom hung up.

Santana sunk to her knees and put her head down.

Brittany rushed to her. "Santana what's wrong?! What happened?!"

The Latina looked up. "She thinks that I drained her credit card.

"Why?"

"I don't know. But I didn't! And now she's gonna-gonna let my dad go."

"What?"

"S-since I'm a minor it's her charges. She can drop them any time she wants. She always threatens to do it. But now-now she's really gonna." The Latina burst into tears. "I can't s-see him again!"

"This is crazy." The cheerleader muttered.

"Brittany I need to go."

"What? But this is your house..."

"I have to go." She turned and fled down the hall.

Brittany furrowed her brow before she realized what Santana might be going to do. Her eyes widened and she jumped up and raced after her.

The bathroom door was cracked open and Brittany could already see the razor coming out.

"No!" She screamed.

Santana hunched over and cut as much as she could before Brittany could get it. Blood dripped onto the cream-colored bath mat.

The blonde ripped the awful thing from her hands and flushed it down the toilet as quick as she could.

"Please Brittany." Santana sobbed. "Please just let me do what I need to!"

"No!" Brittany cried. "This is making it worse!"

The Latina's small frame shook.

"You need help Santana."

"No I don't."

"Yes you do!" I sighed and sat next to her. "You hurt yourself and you drink and you-you do drugs. It needs to stop."

Her eyes were pleading. "Okay. I'll stop. I promised I'll never do it again!"

Brittany shook her head sadly. "You can't make that promise. I'm sorry but... I'm gonna go to the school about this."

Santana's face went pale. "No. Please no. You can't do that!"

"I have to. I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry. But I have to."

"Please no!" She pleaded.

"Santana..."

"I'll do anything! I'll never take a drink again! What do you want me to do?! Anything! Just don't tell!" She sobbed hysterically.

"I have to." Then the blonde stood and exited the bathroom and the house. She would tell the school tomorrow and that was that.

But the next day Santana was nowhere to be found.

It was lunch and Brittany was getting very worried. Santana sometimes cut certain classes, but she was always at school. Something must've been wrong if she didn't show up.

The blonde decided to go to her house to see if everything was okay.

When she arrived she knocked only to receive no answer.

She furrowed her brow and went in anyway. "Santana?"

No answer.

"San-tan-a!"

Still no answer.

Her heart pounded now and she started to get worried. What if someone had kidnapped Santana!?

She walked down the hall. Santana's door was closed.

"You in there San?" Brittany called.

There was no reply.

The cheerio pushed the door open and entered the room.

She gasped.

She clutched her heart.

She rushed to the bed.

"Santana?! SANTANA WAKE UP!"

The brunette lay limp and pale on the bed and she didn't respond.

Brittany picked up her phone and quickly dialed 9-1-1.

"9-1-1, what is your emergency?"

"I need help!"

"Okay ma'am what is your location?"

Brittany rattled off the address. "She might be dead!"

She looked at Santana one more time and whispered, "Please hurry."

AN: Yes it has come to this. If any of you are depressed and/or considering suicide, please, please tell someone and get the help you need. I love you all so much. Stay safe.

- G. Schreiber