A/N: Hello! I do hope you all enjoyed the first chapter… I know it was a little vague… But that was kinda the whole point… And I know the whole journal-form for a story is a bit… new(?) but please just bare with me here… I really feel amazing about this story so I just ask you to give it a chance. And I really don't want to be that guy… but could you all just take about 10 seconds out of your day (and I'm already SO frickin grateful you all are even reading this to begin with), but could you perhaps leave a review or a pm? It's hard to know if you guys are taking well to the story if no one gives me any feedback xD And if it sucks, I'll just keep the story to myself and my Word… But if just one of you enjoys it, I'll keep posting! I just need to hear from you all first xD So, um, yeah, I really hope you enjoy this next chapter! Back to the beginning and longer chapters! xD

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of its characters, plot, ect.

April 18, 2011.

It's been four days. And I've been pretty much unresponsive. The doctors gave me this journal as a way of 'relieving stress.' When I asked them what I should write about, they said to write about anything. Maybe the crash and how it's affecting me. I guess I can try that.


Like I said…

It's been four days…

I've been in the hospital since. I have a broken wrist (sadly my left so I can still write), some stitches on my forehead, and lots of cuts and bruises. They released me two days ago. It doesn't mean I went home though. Mom tried to get me to go home. I told her I won't. I can't. I think she thinks I'm feeling guilty and can't leave. Oh, mother…

I only leave Rachel's room to get something to eat and go to the bathroom. Other than that, I just sit on this chair with the plastic sticking to my thighs a deep ache in my back. At night, it extends to a stiff bed. In the morning, I'm back to sitting. My finger tips alternate between grazing her lush brown hair to clutching her motionless hand. Her skin is cut and bruised. It's a spectrum of different colors: blues, yellows, reds, blacks, greens, and purples. The black stitches look wrong on her. I would like to be able to say she looks peaceful… But I'd be lying.

There's a tube down her throat breathing for her. Christ… She can't even breathe by herself. Nor can she eat or even go to the bathroom. She can't… She can't even open her damn beautiful eyes.

Not once did I ever think that I'd miss her rants. But here I am, desperate for a murmur. Anything. Apart from the TV in the background, the steady beep, and the occasional visitor, my world is silent. All I can do is sit, hold Rachel's hand, and pray that this will be the day she wakes up.

I don't even really remember what exactly happened…

All I can recall is Rachel and I coming home from the movies. I remember the weather was really bad. I think the guy on the radio said it was the worst storm Lima has seen in eight years. We were stopped at a red light, and we were talking about… about… something… I can't remember exactly what… and then… nothing.

I woke up in the hospital a couple hours later, head pounding, body aching like it got run over by a Mack truck, and my mom next to me blubbering like a baby. There was also this constant beeping sound that annoyed the crap out of me.




After calming down and quitting kissing me all over, my mom told me how a car came speeding through the light and was out of control due to the weather.


She also told me how it mainly hit my… passenger side.


How it mainly hit Rachel.




She kept talking about how she was so lucky and blessed that I wasn't hurt beyond repair.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

I didn't hear any of it.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

All I kept thinking were her words.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

"Oh Quinnie, that stupid, irresponsible wretch of woman came speeding through the light. She was talking on the damn – excuse me – dang phone! And in that type of weather! How dangerous! She could have killed you! But thank the Lord she didn't hit your side."

I had then asked her where she hit my car.

I don't think I've ever seen someone get that pale that fast before. She stopped her rambling that she does when she's flustered, took my hand, and looked me straight in the eyes.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

"Quinn. Listen to your mother. Now you know that a car hit you and Rachel on your way home from your day at the mall." I felt guilt here. I don't enjoy lying to my mom… But come on… Just think of the situation I'm in. "The car came from the right of where your car was stationed. The driver tried to swerve, but she couldn't in time… She hit directly into Rachel."

Beep. Beep. Beep….


I knew it wasn't good. I knew Rachel couldn't be in good shape.

I don't know what it was, but I just knew.

Mom told me she was hit directly, and, because of that, she sustained major injuries.

She was put into a coma.

And it's been four days, and she hasn't woken up yet.

And I'm so scared.

And I don't know what I'll do if she doesn't wake up.

She has to wake up.

She has to.

I just…

It's about 4:30 in the morning right now. You wouldn't know because it always look like it's noon here in the hospital. But I couldn't sleep, so I thought I would write. I don't know how I feel about this whole thing yet. I just need Rachel to wake up.

I think I hear one of the nurses coming, so, um, bye.

I don't even know why I just said bye to an inanimate object.