Author's Note: So this is a story about Rachel's life after her dads are tragically killed. Along the way, she meets some pretty amazing people that will change her life.

I've had this story written for a while but I decided to turn it into a Glee story after a while. By the way, the characters in my story are not going to act like their characters on the show, except for maybe Rachel.

Enjoy!

Did you know that ants are one of the hardest working kinds of insects alive? All day they toil while scavenging for food or perfecting their mound of sand they call home. Right now, they are collecting food. While I stare at the dusty, creaking floorboards beneath my feet, I watch a small handful of black ants scurry around themselves. After finding a scrap of food, they then hurry back into the minuscule opening in the wood floor. I'm always amazed at how fast they get around. It's like they downed five cups of ant-sized coffee before settling off on their task.

This process of gazing at caffeinated ants has been entertaining me for hours. There is nothing else to do except to observe my surroundings, and I chose to watch ants zip past one another. This brown, hard, and rough wood chair that had been home to my rear end for quite some time, causes my head to ache. I have thought about just leaving many times, but, of course, where would I go?

Through the thin, gray walls that are coated with decades of cigarette smoke, I can hear them read my file. I can hear them talking about me.

"Rachel Barbra Berry, born December 18, 1994. She turned 15 seventeen days ago. Daughter of the late Leroy and Hiram Berry. She's been living in New York since the age of one. Then two days ago, he world came crumbling down," the social worker read.

"Are you sure there's nowhere else she can go?"

"Sir, I've checked three times. This girl has no family, no nothing. The only living relative, her aunt, resides in California. Sir, not only does she live too far away, but her health is declining. She is in no position to be raising a teenager," Mr. Baker replies.

"Very well. I'll arrange for her to be sent to the Crenshaw Orphanage," the man says.

"But sir, if I may, that orphanage is located on the East Side. It is so much different from her home just outside the city."

"I am very aware of that Mr. Baker, but this is the only orphanage in the city that has not yet met its full capacity. Boy, how the numbers of orphans are climbing each day. Anyhow, Rachel will have to learn to be around what she's never experienced. Perhaps it will be what's good for her."

I stare out the window at the dead and frosty trees and the ice-covered lakes. Even though I am in an enclosed area I am still chilled by the winter air. I see people walking the streets. They look so gloomy and morbid, much like how I feel. The social worker, whose name escapes me, comes to an abrupt halt. Like lightning, he is opening my door and getting my small load of luggage from the trunk. I can't help but think that he is moving so fast because he can't wait to get rid of me.

I step over the slush puddle on the road and stand directly facing the building. This is where I'm supposed to live? This dark, dank structure can hardly be considered as home for me, let alone many other kids. Mr. Baker, oh yes that's his name, pushes me towards the building as if he's scared to go in himself and he wants me to go first. Reluctantly, I take one step forward, glance at Mr. Baker and keep walking. I finally reach the door where Mr. Baker rings the doorbell for me. Eventually an old bag of a woman answers the door. I assume she is the head of the orphanage. I peer into the building where I see kids running around recklessly.

The woman gives me a once over before she begins speaking. "Ahh and you must be Rachel. I am Ms. Davis," the woman said while extending her hand. Rachel stared at it for a few moments before it crossed her mind that she should probably shake it. "If you'll just follow me, I'll take you to your room."

As Ms. Davis leads me to my room, I feel the stare of what seems like a hundred children. They look at me as if I am some unknown species from the jungle where no one had ever ventured.

At least they know I'm here.

When I get to my room, I learn that I have to share it. There is a girl, who looks about my age, sitting on the bed across from mine. She too, stares at me as I come in. I conclude that she just came from doing chores outside. Noticeable splotches of dirt cover her body as well as her clothes. Her strawberry colored hair, which is braided into pigtails, contains fragments of leaves. She looks like a Cindy to me.

"Rachel, this is Quinn," Ms. Davis announces as she points to the ragged girl on the bed. "You two will be sharing a room together."

I smile weakly at Quinn as she does the same to me. Obviously so, Ms. Davis hurries the introduction so that she can turn her focus on Mr. Baker. She tells me what time meals are at, what time lights go out, and that there is no rough-housing inside. Already, I observe that she doesn't enforce this last rule, as I can hear the patter of running feet and the bangs on walls. When the head finishes telling me the rules, she whisks the timid social worker off to a room where she can be alone with him. I bet Mr. Baker wishes he called in sick today.

Without a thought on what to say to Quinn, I turn and set my belongings on my bed. I unpack my clothes and neatly lay them in my designated drawer. I then bring out my beloved Dog. Dog is a stuffed animal my father's gave to me, just a week after I was born. Since I could never decide on a name for him, I just call him Dog. I can't even imagine how I would sleep without him. He serves as a sort of pillow for me and when I get scared or miss my parents, he consoles me as I cuddle him.

All the while I am doing this Quinn watches me carefully, as if I'm an alien being. Noticing her gaze, I glance at her, hinting that she should stop. As soon as she saw me look at her she started fidgeting with her hair, but soon went back to watching my every move. Because I was starting to get a little uncomfortable, I decided the best thing to do was make conversation.

"So how old are you?" I asked Quinn.

"She was hesitant to answer because she was shocked I was talking to her. "Fifteen."

"Oh me too. Do you like it here?" I asked.

This time she answered without hesitation. "It's ok. I mean, I have a roof over my head and food to eat."

Within minutes Quinn filled me in about almost everything that goes on at the Crenshaw Orphanage, completely dropping her initial shroud of shyness. I learned that Ms. Davis gives you all your basic needs but other than that, she not a very good person. Quinn also informed me that Ms. Davis can be a little tipsy at times so I should generally just try to steer clear of her. While conversing with this girl, I felt a certain sadness for her. She told me that she really didn't have any friends because they were either snobby or too depressed to even start a friendship.

Our conversation was interrupted by the dinner bell. Quinn said we will finish talking later because if we are late to dinner, or any meal, Ms. Davis will punish you by giving you kitchen duty for a month.

When supper is served, my plate is handed to me with an unidentifiable mush and kidney beans. Actually, at first I thought it was kidney beans but now that I get a better look, it also resembles chocolate pudding. Being brave, I taste the mush, make a face, and start to gag. This is food that no one should have to eat! As I look around, no one else shows that the food disgusts them. This means that either they are used to it or this mystery food has burned off some of their taste buds. It was very hard to finish my dinner but eventually I did.

Afterward, Quinn and I continued our conversation. We started on the subject of out previous life, the one before the life ruined by pain and depression. Quinn didn't elaborate on her life for fear that she would lose all emotional stability. She only told me that her mother and father were in a horrible car crash and that's why she's here. Instead of keeping it short and simple, I decide to reveal my life to a girl I barely know.

"My dads had a great appreciation of the arts. So they would always take me to the newest plays and musicals on Broadway. That's how I came to discover what I want to do with my life. I'm going to be on Broadway one day, see my name in lights..." Rachel was brought out of her reverie as Quinn cleared her throat, hinting that she should continue. "Oh yeah, anyway. I remember sometimes in the summer, we would go out and go swimming in the lake or play baseball in the back yard. Even though my dads were gay, they still were amazing at playing sports. I remember the gorgeous smiles on all of our faces, sustained by the pure joy of each other. We were the epitome of a happy American family. Dad was always followed around by rays of sunshine. And Daddy had that gentleness about him. I was the luckiest kid in the world," I said with a light laugh, but it was stifled as I took note of my use of past tense words. "It was like there was a force field around us, always. Until that day." Tears began to well up in my eyes and my throat gets a lump the size of a baseball in it. "I was at my best friend, Sutton's, house when it happened. Sutton's mother came into the room, where we were playing with our beautiful Barbies. There, she informed that my house had caught on fire...with my parents still inside. At first, it didn't feel real. I mean, what happened to protective shield around us? When Sutton's mother drove me back to my house, the realization not only it me, it practically stabbed me in the heart. What lay in front of me, the place I used to call home, are the charcoaled remains of my house. Everything was gone, everything I knew, including my parents. Gone. At the scene, the police said it was the work of an arsonist because the fire was started at all the doorways which led to the windows, blocking any possible escape routes." I pause. tears now streaming down my face. My jaw aches and I realize that I've been speaking through clenched teeth. "So that's how I ended up here."

Seeing my despair, Quinn sits on my bed and hugs me so tight, it reminds me of being in my fathers' arms. I let out huge sobs and so does she. I know she is thinking of her own family now. For five minutes, we cry together and after there aren't any more tears left, we just stare at each other, like we can hear what the other is saying by channeling our pain. Even though I just met this girl hours ago, and i must say I was too quick to judge, I feel a certain closeness to her.

We fall asleep a short time after, which was much needed, as we were wiped out from night's event.

So did you guys like it? Tell me about it in a review!

By the way, if any of you guys have read my untitled story, I just wanted you to know that it is going to be put on hold for right now because when I wrote it I had no idea where I was going with it. Lucky for you, I know where I am going with this story.

Also, if you have read my other story A New Beginning, Or Maybe Not, I'm afraid that I won't be able to update that one anytime soon. Don't you hate when real life gets in the way? So hopefully, this story will be able to hold you over until the next update.

P.S. Sorry for the cheesy title. I suck at coming up with titles.