She had been prepared for Brendan to try pushing her around. The Brendan she used to know probably would have just backed down, but Bernadette had expected that if he'd changed enough that he'd kill someone, he'd be more likely to lash out at her.
Conversely, seeing him act this way now made it seem more believable that he could have murdered someone.
Unfortunately, even though she'd been expecting it and had tried to brace herself against the shove, it wasn't enough. Brendan dwarfed her in size. She still wasn't completely recovered from her endometriosis attack of the past few days. Far from moving towards recovering, her pain was flaring up as a result of the current situation. In the end, knowing that Brendan was going to try shoving her aside wasn't enough for her to be able to keep her footing.
A second later, Bernadette hit the ground. Hard.
Her illness was definitely flaring up now. Her body was sore from where she'd hit the ground, naturally. She was also feeling a pain in her right ankle - possibly a sprain. She really hoped that wasn't the case.
She also had the worst headache she'd ever experienced in her entire life.
Bernadette attempted to get herself up off the ground, but could barely get herself to move. Well, it was probably better not to move until everything was under control.
Shit, still with the headache?
She'd assumed her head was just sore from when hitting the ground, but it was on a different level from everything else.
Okay, you can deal with this. Deep breaths, don't let yourself get agitated.
Just stay calm until the pain falls to a manageable level. She'd put up with worse on a regular basis. Hell, it was like her entire life had been learning how to deal with shit like this. There's no way she wouldn't be able to handle it. She just needed to rest for a little while longer.
It was hard to keep her breathing steady with that pain in the back of her head. Her ability to focus kept slipping.
Breathe in, out. In, out.
Just rest for a little while longer, that should be all she'd need...
G45: BERNADETTE THOMAS - DECEASED
Think About Your Life
The morning of Day 4, just after announcements
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Muninn. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
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Primrosette
- Posts: 1033
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 9:58 am
- Location: In the Dark Abyss
Brendan blinked and he stared down at Bernadette on the ground. She wasn't moving at all. Did he shove her a little too hard? What was he thinking? Why the hell would he do that to his former crush? Ty would possibly lose it if he saw that Brendan had done this to Bernadette. He shouldn't have lost his temper like that in the first place. He shouldn't have took it out on her.
He should at least help her up to her feet and apologize to her afterwards. Then he would leave if she didn't want him to be around and he would make sure that Alba would go with him. That was the better thing to do. He had to at least go on terms that weren't too tense between him and Bernadette.
He moved closer to where Bernadette was laying and he knelt down on one knee beside her. He really felt like a complete idiot for putting his hands on her like that. He wasn't doing a good job on not hurting anyone.
"Bernadette? I...."
He paused for a few seconds. Something wasn't right about this. Why wasn't Bernadette making an attempt to move? Why did it look like she wasn't breathing? Why did this look so.... wrong?
"B-Bernadette....?" He was becoming more alarmed and he had a bad feeling deep in his heart. Had he accidentally knocked her unconscious? Or...?
No.....
"T-This isn't funny, Bern-Bernadette...." He gulped out of nervousness and fear over what he had just done to to his best friend.
He let out a shaky breath as he moved his hand gently behind Bernadette's head to lift it up a little and then his breathing got a bit funny. He could feel something sticky on the back of Bernadette's head. He drew back his hand and he stared at it, not believing what he was really seeing.
Red....
Bernadette's blood....
No, no, no...!
He moved Bernadette over a little and he saw what her head had connected with. A rock.... A bloody rock. Which had Bernadette's blood on it. If only he hadn't had pushed her.
"B-Bernadette, please wake up! Please!"
He was getting desperate and he choked back a sob. Don't cry. She's going to be fine. Bernadette was going to wake up and tell him not to worry about her. That everything was going to be okay.
He was shaking her slightly. He then tried to check for a pulse. Nothing. Tried to check for breathing. Nothing there either.
"B-B-Bern....."
He felt something wet on his face. He was starting to cry. He was realising that Bernadette was not okay. She was never going to be okay.
Bernadette is gone, Brendan. And it's all your fault....
He pulled Bernadette's limp body closer to his and he just held her against his chest. He let out some despairing sobs and he was angry at himself. He had just killed his best friend and there was nothing that he could do about it. She was never coming back.
".....I-I.... I'm so, so s-s-sorry....."
He should at least help her up to her feet and apologize to her afterwards. Then he would leave if she didn't want him to be around and he would make sure that Alba would go with him. That was the better thing to do. He had to at least go on terms that weren't too tense between him and Bernadette.
He moved closer to where Bernadette was laying and he knelt down on one knee beside her. He really felt like a complete idiot for putting his hands on her like that. He wasn't doing a good job on not hurting anyone.
"Bernadette? I...."
He paused for a few seconds. Something wasn't right about this. Why wasn't Bernadette making an attempt to move? Why did it look like she wasn't breathing? Why did this look so.... wrong?
"B-Bernadette....?" He was becoming more alarmed and he had a bad feeling deep in his heart. Had he accidentally knocked her unconscious? Or...?
No.....
"T-This isn't funny, Bern-Bernadette...." He gulped out of nervousness and fear over what he had just done to to his best friend.
He let out a shaky breath as he moved his hand gently behind Bernadette's head to lift it up a little and then his breathing got a bit funny. He could feel something sticky on the back of Bernadette's head. He drew back his hand and he stared at it, not believing what he was really seeing.
Red....
Bernadette's blood....
No, no, no...!
He moved Bernadette over a little and he saw what her head had connected with. A rock.... A bloody rock. Which had Bernadette's blood on it. If only he hadn't had pushed her.
"B-Bernadette, please wake up! Please!"
He was getting desperate and he choked back a sob. Don't cry. She's going to be fine. Bernadette was going to wake up and tell him not to worry about her. That everything was going to be okay.
He was shaking her slightly. He then tried to check for a pulse. Nothing. Tried to check for breathing. Nothing there either.
"B-B-Bern....."
He felt something wet on his face. He was starting to cry. He was realising that Bernadette was not okay. She was never going to be okay.
Bernadette is gone, Brendan. And it's all your fault....
He pulled Bernadette's limp body closer to his and he just held her against his chest. He let out some despairing sobs and he was angry at himself. He had just killed his best friend and there was nothing that he could do about it. She was never coming back.
".....I-I.... I'm so, so s-s-sorry....."
((I'm a few days away from inactivity and going to be reduced in activity over the next few days, so I'm skipping order))
Alba couldn't believe Bernadette was being so cruel to Brendan. Sure, Brendan did kill, but he had his reasons, and Bernadette shouldn't have written him off completely like that. She also wasn't sure how to take the idea that there was something wrong with Alba believing in him. Maybe Bernadette didn't mean it, but Alba was staying with him because she trusted him, not because she felt she had to keep him in line.
Before she could say anything, Brendan shoved Bernadette and she fell to the ground. Alba let out a short cry and walked over to Brendan.
"Whoa, hey. Let's not get physical," she said to Brendan.
Brendan was already checking Bernadette by the time she got over. From his body language and tone, it was clear something was wrong. Alba's eyes widened when Brendan pulled his hand back and saw blood on it. She held her breath and covered her mouth. Brendan started to cry and held Bernadette close to his body. Alba had always taken a few tumbles and managed to get back up, but most of the time, she had a helmet on. Bernadette wasn't so lucky.
"Bren..." Alba said, slowly reaching her free hand out.
She wasn't sure what to say next. She couldn't even put on a fake smile for him.
Alba couldn't believe Bernadette was being so cruel to Brendan. Sure, Brendan did kill, but he had his reasons, and Bernadette shouldn't have written him off completely like that. She also wasn't sure how to take the idea that there was something wrong with Alba believing in him. Maybe Bernadette didn't mean it, but Alba was staying with him because she trusted him, not because she felt she had to keep him in line.
Before she could say anything, Brendan shoved Bernadette and she fell to the ground. Alba let out a short cry and walked over to Brendan.
"Whoa, hey. Let's not get physical," she said to Brendan.
Brendan was already checking Bernadette by the time she got over. From his body language and tone, it was clear something was wrong. Alba's eyes widened when Brendan pulled his hand back and saw blood on it. She held her breath and covered her mouth. Brendan started to cry and held Bernadette close to his body. Alba had always taken a few tumbles and managed to get back up, but most of the time, she had a helmet on. Bernadette wasn't so lucky.
"Bren..." Alba said, slowly reaching her free hand out.
She wasn't sure what to say next. She couldn't even put on a fake smile for him.
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MK Kilmarnock
- Posts: 1931
- Joined: Fri Aug 10, 2018 5:28 am
- Location: On one of the coasts, generally
((Welcome to SotF where the post order is made up and the points don't matter))
Coleen's knees audibly clicked as they tensed and straightened, heels digging into the dirt and her back pressing up against the links of the fence.
"You've... y-y-you've got to be..." she stammered, unable to finish putting her thoughts into words. They had to be kidding her. Just now, things had escalated from talking to Bernadette being pushed... and now they had all sling-shot back to, what was Brendan doing, crying over her? She took a moment to process that; in a fit of immature rage, Brendan went from shoving Bernadette, possibly even killing her, and now he was crying over her like he could somehow make things okay?
First Bradley, then Bernadette. If Bern didn't make it, that made two people who had just died in front of her. And now her best friend, practically her sister was dead too and Coleen knew she might not ever even see the body. Crying doesn't make this better. There was no option to weep and say 'I'm sorry'.
Her hands were trembling, her cheeks were feverish, but Coleen reached for the weapon that had been left near her anyway. She had never held a gun before, let alone fired one, but she babysat Ronnie and Dillon enough to know that she was looking at... well, she was either looking at an M-16 or an AK-47, most likely. Common sense told her it had a safety and she knew how to hold it, but that was about it. She didn't need to know how to aim. It wasn't her intention to shoot anybody.
Not yet.
Tucking the gun close to her chest, Coleen chomped down on her lip as she struggled to find the safety. As it turned out to be a fairly large lever near her right thumb, it didn't take long. She scrambled to her knee and lifted the weapon's stock to press against her shoulder, aiming at a small clump of dry, green weeds far from anything even remotely alive and sentient. She pulled the trigger...
It was one thing to hear a gun go off in a video game from the safety of the couch, and another thing entirely to have a live weapon spew ordinance in your arms. It was loud... very loud, loud enough that she now understood why people always wore ear protection at firing ranges on TV. Coleen wasn't expecting as much kick as she got either and immediately released the trigger, thankfully managing to hold in a shriek. The shock kicked her adrenaline up even further than watching Bern's fall, and she shook the hair out of her eyes to glare at Brendan.
"Get out of here," she spat. "Just get the hell out of here, Brendan."
Coleen's knees audibly clicked as they tensed and straightened, heels digging into the dirt and her back pressing up against the links of the fence.
"You've... y-y-you've got to be..." she stammered, unable to finish putting her thoughts into words. They had to be kidding her. Just now, things had escalated from talking to Bernadette being pushed... and now they had all sling-shot back to, what was Brendan doing, crying over her? She took a moment to process that; in a fit of immature rage, Brendan went from shoving Bernadette, possibly even killing her, and now he was crying over her like he could somehow make things okay?
First Bradley, then Bernadette. If Bern didn't make it, that made two people who had just died in front of her. And now her best friend, practically her sister was dead too and Coleen knew she might not ever even see the body. Crying doesn't make this better. There was no option to weep and say 'I'm sorry'.
Her hands were trembling, her cheeks were feverish, but Coleen reached for the weapon that had been left near her anyway. She had never held a gun before, let alone fired one, but she babysat Ronnie and Dillon enough to know that she was looking at... well, she was either looking at an M-16 or an AK-47, most likely. Common sense told her it had a safety and she knew how to hold it, but that was about it. She didn't need to know how to aim. It wasn't her intention to shoot anybody.
Not yet.
Tucking the gun close to her chest, Coleen chomped down on her lip as she struggled to find the safety. As it turned out to be a fairly large lever near her right thumb, it didn't take long. She scrambled to her knee and lifted the weapon's stock to press against her shoulder, aiming at a small clump of dry, green weeds far from anything even remotely alive and sentient. She pulled the trigger...
It was one thing to hear a gun go off in a video game from the safety of the couch, and another thing entirely to have a live weapon spew ordinance in your arms. It was loud... very loud, loud enough that she now understood why people always wore ear protection at firing ranges on TV. Coleen wasn't expecting as much kick as she got either and immediately released the trigger, thankfully managing to hold in a shriek. The shock kicked her adrenaline up even further than watching Bern's fall, and she shook the hair out of her eyes to glare at Brendan.
"Get out of here," she spat. "Just get the hell out of here, Brendan."
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MethodicalSlacker
- Posts: 1231
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 2:18 am
- Location: Here And There Along The Echo
- Contact:
[Sorry for the lateness, it was finals week and I thought I could squeeze something out fast enough but things piled up. Won't happen again.]
It all went to hell so fast, before his very eyes. It never rained in Arthur's world. It only ever seemed to pour. With just one shove, his new travelling companion had gone off the brink, and any hope that Arthur had of Alba's friend joining up with them had gone away. He picked himself up off of the rock and stood facing the cliff that Bernadette had gone over, Alba's friend running over in immediate regret. The drop seemed survivable, given you fell in a very specific way, but Arthur had no real way of knowing for sure. He watched from a distance as the boy began to cry, Alba offering whatever she could to keep him from breaking down. It wasn't going to work. There was no easy way to console a murderer.
Because that's what he was. A murderer, purpose be damned. A crime of passion was still a crime. Arthur couldn't just let this slide. There'd have to be repercussions. Consequences for his ac-
BANG!
Arthur winced, dropping his paintball gun onto the ground. Gunfire, but from where? Had Alba been killed? Was there someone else coming over the horizon, using their moment of weakness to pick off everyone on the cliffs? He turned his eyes up to find-
Coleen.
Looks like someone had reached the same conclusion he had. Arthur grinned, and picked his paintball gun back up, aiming it down at the base of the cliff.
"She's right, you know," he warned, "It's about time you took your leave. Just do it quickly." Arthur wouldn't hesitate to fire if he had to. Paintballs stung, they covered you in paint, but they didn't kill. The boy wasn't worth killing. He already looked like he wanted to kill himself over what he had done.
The smell of the salty sea tickled Arthur's nose, and he had to stifle a sneeze. Best not to ruin the moment.
It all went to hell so fast, before his very eyes. It never rained in Arthur's world. It only ever seemed to pour. With just one shove, his new travelling companion had gone off the brink, and any hope that Arthur had of Alba's friend joining up with them had gone away. He picked himself up off of the rock and stood facing the cliff that Bernadette had gone over, Alba's friend running over in immediate regret. The drop seemed survivable, given you fell in a very specific way, but Arthur had no real way of knowing for sure. He watched from a distance as the boy began to cry, Alba offering whatever she could to keep him from breaking down. It wasn't going to work. There was no easy way to console a murderer.
Because that's what he was. A murderer, purpose be damned. A crime of passion was still a crime. Arthur couldn't just let this slide. There'd have to be repercussions. Consequences for his ac-
BANG!
Arthur winced, dropping his paintball gun onto the ground. Gunfire, but from where? Had Alba been killed? Was there someone else coming over the horizon, using their moment of weakness to pick off everyone on the cliffs? He turned his eyes up to find-
Coleen.
Looks like someone had reached the same conclusion he had. Arthur grinned, and picked his paintball gun back up, aiming it down at the base of the cliff.
"She's right, you know," he warned, "It's about time you took your leave. Just do it quickly." Arthur wouldn't hesitate to fire if he had to. Paintballs stung, they covered you in paint, but they didn't kill. The boy wasn't worth killing. He already looked like he wanted to kill himself over what he had done.
The smell of the salty sea tickled Arthur's nose, and he had to stifle a sneeze. Best not to ruin the moment.
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Primrosette
- Posts: 1033
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 9:58 am
- Location: In the Dark Abyss
Brendan heard the gun going off. He didn't react at first as he was mourning over Bernadette's body and he knew that he had to stop crying. He couldn't act like this anymore. He just killed Bernadette and there was nothing he could do about it. Jerry and Bernadette had been taken away by him. He was the lowest of the low. He couldn't let Alba feel sorry for him. She deserved to live, he didn't.
Brendan placed Bernadette down gently and he looked at her for a few more seconds. He had to accept that he was nothing but a piece of trash. Bernadette had deserved better than this. Jerry possibly deserved better as well. And he had robbed them of their chances to survive this. He had been so selfish and tried to be the hero that he was never meant to be.
You have to accept what you are, Brendan. You're nothing but a murderer....
He got back up to his feet slowly. He wasn't crying anymore. He was too tired to continue to cry. He had to leave. Like Coleen and Arthur wanted him to. He had wanted Coleen to shoot him. He wanted to die. He hated himself for what he did and he felt sick to his stomach. But he had to see someone first. He wanted to find Jonathan and Candice. Just to make sure that they were safe.
"...."
He didn't say anything. He couldn't say anything to change Coleen and Arthur's minds about him. He just walked over to where he had dropped the grenade launcher and he gave Alba a weak smile. Was she going to follow him? He didn't know. That was her choice.
He then left.
((Brendan Harte continued in El angel exterminador ))
Brendan placed Bernadette down gently and he looked at her for a few more seconds. He had to accept that he was nothing but a piece of trash. Bernadette had deserved better than this. Jerry possibly deserved better as well. And he had robbed them of their chances to survive this. He had been so selfish and tried to be the hero that he was never meant to be.
You have to accept what you are, Brendan. You're nothing but a murderer....
He got back up to his feet slowly. He wasn't crying anymore. He was too tired to continue to cry. He had to leave. Like Coleen and Arthur wanted him to. He had wanted Coleen to shoot him. He wanted to die. He hated himself for what he did and he felt sick to his stomach. But he had to see someone first. He wanted to find Jonathan and Candice. Just to make sure that they were safe.
"...."
He didn't say anything. He couldn't say anything to change Coleen and Arthur's minds about him. He just walked over to where he had dropped the grenade launcher and he gave Alba a weak smile. Was she going to follow him? He didn't know. That was her choice.
He then left.
((Brendan Harte continued in El angel exterminador ))
Alba wanted to reach out and touch Brendan on the shoulder, but she found it hard to really get close to him. He was cradling his friend's body, and she wasn't sure if it was right for her to get in the way. So she maintained a close distance to him, keeping the rifle lowered, and waited for him to say something.
Unfortunately, they weren't allowed that. There was a loud bang, causing Alba to let out a loud scream. She turned and saw Sandra and Arthur now holding guns and demanding they leave. Alba held her breath. Bernadette was dead, but were they know going to get into a gunfight? It was just an accident, after all. They didn't need to kill each other over that.
Alba was prepared to reason with the two when Brendan got up. He walked away after giving Alba a weak smile. Alba felt her breathing get a bit shaky, glancing back and forth between where Brendan was walking off to and to Sandra and Arthur.
"I...I'm so sorry..." she said.
She closed her eyes and turned away from the two. She picked up her pace and hurried after Brendan. Brendan may have killed two people now, but he was still her friend, and now more than ever, he really needed a friend.
((Alba Reyes continued in El ángel exterminador))
Unfortunately, they weren't allowed that. There was a loud bang, causing Alba to let out a loud scream. She turned and saw Sandra and Arthur now holding guns and demanding they leave. Alba held her breath. Bernadette was dead, but were they know going to get into a gunfight? It was just an accident, after all. They didn't need to kill each other over that.
Alba was prepared to reason with the two when Brendan got up. He walked away after giving Alba a weak smile. Alba felt her breathing get a bit shaky, glancing back and forth between where Brendan was walking off to and to Sandra and Arthur.
"I...I'm so sorry..." she said.
She closed her eyes and turned away from the two. She picked up her pace and hurried after Brendan. Brendan may have killed two people now, but he was still her friend, and now more than ever, he really needed a friend.
((Alba Reyes continued in El ángel exterminador))
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MK Kilmarnock
- Posts: 1931
- Joined: Fri Aug 10, 2018 5:28 am
- Location: On one of the coasts, generally
Coleen lowered the barrel to the dirt, the very same dirt that her knees and her dress were scuffed in. Brendan and Alba had gone, leaving Arthur and...
Now just Arthur. Bern was gone, and their little 'ABC' trio was now just 'AC'. Daring to look out the few feet required to see Bernadette sleeping peacefully on the ground caused Coleen's vision to go blurry, and she wept. She wept not only because it was tragic to witness yet another person's death, another wasted life gone up in smoke. She was terrified as well.
Brendan and Bernadette, those two were supposed to be close friends. A few days on this desolate rock with nothing but lives being taken all around you, the croaking of a loudspeaker serving as your alarm cloak to goad you onward and trample on your spirit, had changed something about the each of them. Brendan had killed before, Bernadette rebuffed him, and so Brendan had done the same to her. Part of her understood that it couldn't have been on purpose; if she dared to replay the scene in her mind, she could see an argument that soured. Nothing more.
But that was the thing. No rational person kills another person. What happened here today only happened because all rationality was being pulled away from them little by little. In some cases, it was happening more rapidly. Today, she had picked up a gun and fired it for the first time in her life. She hadn't pointed it at anybody, but she pulled the trigger. How long before she pulled it at somebody? Killing Arthur seemed almost inconceivable to her. She was sure killing Bernadette must have seen inconceivable to Brendan.
But it happened.
It happened.
"Let's go..." Coleen choked, clinging to the fence and pulling herself up. "Let's go. I don't want to be here anymore."
((Coleen Reagan, continued in Cooking Up Trouble))
Now just Arthur. Bern was gone, and their little 'ABC' trio was now just 'AC'. Daring to look out the few feet required to see Bernadette sleeping peacefully on the ground caused Coleen's vision to go blurry, and she wept. She wept not only because it was tragic to witness yet another person's death, another wasted life gone up in smoke. She was terrified as well.
Brendan and Bernadette, those two were supposed to be close friends. A few days on this desolate rock with nothing but lives being taken all around you, the croaking of a loudspeaker serving as your alarm cloak to goad you onward and trample on your spirit, had changed something about the each of them. Brendan had killed before, Bernadette rebuffed him, and so Brendan had done the same to her. Part of her understood that it couldn't have been on purpose; if she dared to replay the scene in her mind, she could see an argument that soured. Nothing more.
But that was the thing. No rational person kills another person. What happened here today only happened because all rationality was being pulled away from them little by little. In some cases, it was happening more rapidly. Today, she had picked up a gun and fired it for the first time in her life. She hadn't pointed it at anybody, but she pulled the trigger. How long before she pulled it at somebody? Killing Arthur seemed almost inconceivable to her. She was sure killing Bernadette must have seen inconceivable to Brendan.
But it happened.
It happened.
"Let's go..." Coleen choked, clinging to the fence and pulling herself up. "Let's go. I don't want to be here anymore."
((Coleen Reagan, continued in Cooking Up Trouble))
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MethodicalSlacker
- Posts: 1231
- Joined: Tue Aug 14, 2018 2:18 am
- Location: Here And There Along The Echo
- Contact:
Arthur nodded in agreement. There was no point in sticking around the cliffs anyway. Nothing to see except for Bernadette's corpse, and that wasn't quite something he had in mind for himself. He looked at Coleen and felt cold. Emotion reached out of her like hands in a stampede, begging for anything to pull them out and to safety. All they grasped was open air before they fell back into themselves, collapsing, broken and useless. He didn't know how to reach out to her. He didn't know if he wanted to reach out to her. All he knew was that he wanted to keep her safe. The wind, empty and formless like his promises, blew softly against his face.
Tears welled up in his eyes. He couldn't pinpoint exactly why. Was it seeing Coleen so broken, driven so far as to fire a gun, something he never thought she would do? Was it because he had reacted with such apathy to the death of two of his dearest friends? Was it because, not once at all these past few days until now, he hadn't taken any time to stop and think of his sister?
He blinked a few times, and the tears were gone. Everything back in order.
"Me neither," Arthur said, "Let me grab my stuff, though."
Walking up to the rock he had been sitting on earlier, his eyes began to sting again. Looking out over the vast sea, he felt small and lonely. Everything else just seemed so far away, the distance he had put between himself and reality manifested in physical form. As he slung his bag over his shoulder, he felt something shift again within him. Though he had been through a number of scattered phases, modes of thought that never lasted for more than a day, he felt that the head space he now found himself in was where he would stay.
He turned back around, and for a moment he felt like he did on his first day here. Not knowing who to go with, what to do, where to look for anything at all. How would things have gone if he had chosen differently? What if he stayed on that beach and looked out on the ocean, gazing into the waves, not choosing to do anything but sit and think?
As he returned to his friend, the question song kept playing in his mind, getting louder with each passing moment.
[Arthur Bernstein continued in Cooking Up Trouble.]
Tears welled up in his eyes. He couldn't pinpoint exactly why. Was it seeing Coleen so broken, driven so far as to fire a gun, something he never thought she would do? Was it because he had reacted with such apathy to the death of two of his dearest friends? Was it because, not once at all these past few days until now, he hadn't taken any time to stop and think of his sister?
He blinked a few times, and the tears were gone. Everything back in order.
"Me neither," Arthur said, "Let me grab my stuff, though."
Walking up to the rock he had been sitting on earlier, his eyes began to sting again. Looking out over the vast sea, he felt small and lonely. Everything else just seemed so far away, the distance he had put between himself and reality manifested in physical form. As he slung his bag over his shoulder, he felt something shift again within him. Though he had been through a number of scattered phases, modes of thought that never lasted for more than a day, he felt that the head space he now found himself in was where he would stay.
He turned back around, and for a moment he felt like he did on his first day here. Not knowing who to go with, what to do, where to look for anything at all. How would things have gone if he had chosen differently? What if he stayed on that beach and looked out on the ocean, gazing into the waves, not choosing to do anything but sit and think?
As he returned to his friend, the question song kept playing in his mind, getting louder with each passing moment.
[Arthur Bernstein continued in Cooking Up Trouble.]