Dear God

[Privyet†]

Maybe he'd learn to deal with this. He always learned to deal with things. Bad situations. All he had to do was keep his head down, stay out of the wrong areas - just like middle school - and he'd be as good as gold.

At least, that's what he was telling himself. Deep down, there wasn't a doubt in his mind that it wasn't going to be even remotely that simple. Christ knew what kind of people he'd run into.. far as he knew, running into Nate was a lucky break.  Maybe the others wouldn't be so kind. Nonthreatening. That's what he was afraid of - meeting someone who was ready to kill.

He wasn't going to pray. He was too rational for that. Too smart, he liked to tell himself. The best he could do right now was hope. Hope that if he did find someone who wasn't afraid of killing, that they wouldn't have a gun, or something like that.

Walk. Fresh air.

Matt wasn't sure if Nate was crazy, stupid or just incredibly optimistic. Maybe all three. Still, the chapel was small. Not exactly a good place to hide.

"Hm. Yeah, I guess. Uh, I'm not exactly keen on the idea of going hiking or anything like that, so maybe we could just walk to the asylum, or something."

Matt had his fingers crossed that he'd live long enough to make it there.

[Slam]

Nate nodded back at Matt as he agreed to his invitation, struggling to get back up to his feet. He really didn't care where they were headed; as long as Matt was with him then it'd be much better than sitting in the room crying to himself.

He picked up his bag and staff, not really sure why he cared, but possessive of them all the same. They were the only things he had right now, apart from Matt's company, and he didn't want to just abandon them where they might get stolen. He always tried to be careful with his things at school, even if he did still forget them sometimes.

School. That was starting to feel like a million years ago.

((Nate Turner and Matt Moradi continued elsewhere))