Awakened.
Mama Who Bore Me
Mama who bore me
Mama who gave me
No way to handle things
Who made me so sad
Rachel Berry regretted ever listening to that stupid tape. She said it was Jesse’s fault, really, for putting the tape into the player, but she knew it was truly hers, for sticking around and listening to it. It was also her fault for talking to Shelby, admitting that she was her daughter and setting herself up for the inevitable heartbreak. But it was much easier to put all the blame on Jesse St. James, who had not only set her up for this, but had been playing her all along. She sat in her room on a Saturday night, curled up on the bed as she stared at her walls, cluttered with playbills. That was her dream in front of her. But it hadn’t worked out for her mother. Who could say it would work out for her?
Mama, the weeping
Mama, the angels
No sleep in Heaven, or Bethlehem
For the first time, Rachel began feeling doubt in the pit of her stomach. She bit her lip nervously, turning over to stare at the blank wall on the other side of her bed. She closed her eyes tightly. I’ve had this dream since I was four, she thought. It will happen. Regardless of her thoughts, she closed her eyes. Shelby had said herself, “You were me.” Was she doomed to follow the same fate? She closed her eyes tightly, forcing the tears back.
Some pray that one day
Christ will come a'-callin'
They light a candle
And hope that it glows
And some just lie there
Crying for him to come and find them
But when he comes they don't know how to go
“Quinn! Come down for dinner!” Judy Fabray called from the dining room. Quinn sighed, getting up from her desk and walking out of her room, smoothing her white dress as she walked down the stairs into the dining room. Since Quinn had moved back into her house, her mother had made these dinners a bit of a ritual. She lit fancy candles and set up the good china, and made sure to pray before every meal. She always asked forgiveness for Quinn’s mistakes, which irked Quinn the most. Judy had her own little sins and Quinn knew that, and yet she always made it seem like Quinn was the only one who could do wrong.
Mama who bore me
Mama who gave me
No way to handle things
Who made me so bad
The only thing that made her mother bearable was Quinn’s theory that it was her mother’s fault she had gotten pregnant. If Judy hadn’t pushed Quinn to always be perfect, to be faultless in every single way, especially physically, Quinn wouldn’t have felt self-conscious about her weight, which wouldn’t have led to Puck coercing her into sex by telling her she wasn’t fat. If Judy had been a bit more accepting of her daughter, she wouldn’t have gotten pregnant. It was as simple as that. In the back of her mind, Quinn knew it was really just her fault, but placing the blame on Judy helped Quinn bear all the things her mother said or did. A small, satisfied smirk found its way onto the blonde’s lips as she picked at her peas. It’s her fault I’m so bad.
Mama, the weeping
Mama, the angels
No sleep in Heaven, or Bethlehem
Later that night, two girls who had nothing in common and yet everything lay in their beds and cried for different reasons. Rachel buried her face in her pillow, muffling the sniffles and sobs that came from losing her mother, and Quinn curled into a ball and silently wept for the loss of her daughter.
Mama who gave me
No way to handle things
Who made me so sad
Rachel Berry regretted ever listening to that stupid tape. She said it was Jesse’s fault, really, for putting the tape into the player, but she knew it was truly hers, for sticking around and listening to it. It was also her fault for talking to Shelby, admitting that she was her daughter and setting herself up for the inevitable heartbreak. But it was much easier to put all the blame on Jesse St. James, who had not only set her up for this, but had been playing her all along. She sat in her room on a Saturday night, curled up on the bed as she stared at her walls, cluttered with playbills. That was her dream in front of her. But it hadn’t worked out for her mother. Who could say it would work out for her?
Mama, the weeping
Mama, the angels
No sleep in Heaven, or Bethlehem
For the first time, Rachel began feeling doubt in the pit of her stomach. She bit her lip nervously, turning over to stare at the blank wall on the other side of her bed. She closed her eyes tightly. I’ve had this dream since I was four, she thought. It will happen. Regardless of her thoughts, she closed her eyes. Shelby had said herself, “You were me.” Was she doomed to follow the same fate? She closed her eyes tightly, forcing the tears back.
Some pray that one day
Christ will come a'-callin'
They light a candle
And hope that it glows
And some just lie there
Crying for him to come and find them
But when he comes they don't know how to go
“Quinn! Come down for dinner!” Judy Fabray called from the dining room. Quinn sighed, getting up from her desk and walking out of her room, smoothing her white dress as she walked down the stairs into the dining room. Since Quinn had moved back into her house, her mother had made these dinners a bit of a ritual. She lit fancy candles and set up the good china, and made sure to pray before every meal. She always asked forgiveness for Quinn’s mistakes, which irked Quinn the most. Judy had her own little sins and Quinn knew that, and yet she always made it seem like Quinn was the only one who could do wrong.
Mama who bore me
Mama who gave me
No way to handle things
Who made me so bad
The only thing that made her mother bearable was Quinn’s theory that it was her mother’s fault she had gotten pregnant. If Judy hadn’t pushed Quinn to always be perfect, to be faultless in every single way, especially physically, Quinn wouldn’t have felt self-conscious about her weight, which wouldn’t have led to Puck coercing her into sex by telling her she wasn’t fat. If Judy had been a bit more accepting of her daughter, she wouldn’t have gotten pregnant. It was as simple as that. In the back of her mind, Quinn knew it was really just her fault, but placing the blame on Judy helped Quinn bear all the things her mother said or did. A small, satisfied smirk found its way onto the blonde’s lips as she picked at her peas. It’s her fault I’m so bad.
Mama, the weeping
Mama, the angels
No sleep in Heaven, or Bethlehem
Later that night, two girls who had nothing in common and yet everything lay in their beds and cried for different reasons. Rachel buried her face in her pillow, muffling the sniffles and sobs that came from losing her mother, and Quinn curled into a ball and silently wept for the loss of her daughter.