Despair

[armeggedonCounselor†]

((Janet Binachi continued from The Stoner Always Dies.))

Janet was running on fumes. Exhaustion had begun to set in, affecting her cognitive functions. She had arrived at the swamp, which had been her intended target, she was sure, but she couldn't think of why. Something about water or something. She was tired. She sank to the ground at the foot of a tree. Just going to close her eyes for a moment.

A moment later, it was morning again. Janet awoke to the unfamiliar voice of... someone who was not Danya. A side effect of the attack, perhaps? She listened dispassionately. This guy wasn't as good an actor as Danya was- she could hear stress in his voice. Perhaps the group that had rescued so many people had also assaulted Danya's compound. Or wherever it was that they sent out their broadcasts from. Maybe they had done more than that. Maybe....

"Next up... well kids, let's just say that this next part is why you don't try and escape the island, alright? The following individuals were killed trying to make a break for it. blah blah blah blah, Jay Holland, blah blah blah blah and blah."
The other names didn't matter, but that one jumped out at her and sent her reeling. Jay.... No....

No....

No.

"...no...." The smallness of her own voice surprised her. It wasn't even sad, not really. Just tired. Just... blank. Blankness was all she felt anymore.

She had always known that she would be the one to kill Jay, if he had stayed on the island. It was only proper, after all. He represented, to her, that aspect of herself that she had killed on the first day. If things had gone to her plan, then it would be the aspect of herself that she would kill on the last day. She wouldn't want to, not really, but it would be necessary. Sometimes, when he was still here, she would wonder if she would be able to.... It was moot now. She had already done it, with her insistence that he go out there, that he leave the island. She had doomed him. Despair sank in, penetrating the fog of blankness like a knife, like the flash of a gun.

She sank back against the tree, pressing her hands to her eyes. Sobs shook her body, for the second time in as many days. He was dead, and she had killed him. She hadn't pulled the trigger, but she had sent him away. It was as good as doing it herself.

She didn't know how long she sat there crying. But when she was done, she felt... empty. Beyond even blankness, she felt bereft of emotion. What was she fighting for? She didn't know anymore. To go home? What was there to return to? The man she... she... felt something for... he was dead. Her parents would probably have disowned her. Her Grandfather... well, he would probably be mixed in his pride. To live? Would she want to live with that guilt?

Right now, she didn't know what she was living for.

[armeggedonCounselor†]

Slowly, robotically, and automatically, Janet found the cleanest water she could and began to wash. Her mind was carefully blank, locking away those emotions again even as she washed away the dirt and grime of the past several days. How many now? She had forgotten, already. 8? Or was it 9? She dressed again quietly, ate, took a drink of water and began her methodical march out of the swamp. She didn't know where she was going to, or what she was planning. She just knew that she would know it when she found it.

((Janet Binachi continued in Nothing Really Matters.))