SOTF Archive/SOTF Classic

….

What was that?

No seriously, what was that Julien?

Right on cue, right as Jackson began talking about him, he just showed up with curtains, started lecturing Mikki on the gun or some shit, then left with… she guessed a passive-aggressive comment about how word was going around that he beat a woman and he needed to leave because of it? It’s like, they wouldn’t have known if he hadn’t told them. He literally could have kept his mouth shut about that, and they’d have no idea, at least for a while.

Bree huffed and put the syringe back, an incredulous look on her face. She shook her head.

Too late to think much of that, though. Mikki decided it was time.

Bree looked away, rubbing her arms as she heard the sound of the curtains being draped and folded over Abel. Eventually, she looked back. Her eyes were locked on the shape underneath the curtains.

And Mikki began talking.

And Bree listened.

Okay, so...the whole “he wore a camo suit to prom and he was my best friend” thing was kind of impractical earlier, maybe. But Mikki kept going. And Bree closed her eyes, took in a deep breath. Opened them.

That’s right. He was the baseball captain. Generally Bree knew who the other captains were, since, y’know, she was one. But Abel, Abel…

Bree wasn’t sure what to do.

But then Mikki started crying

And Bree knelt down next to her, feeling more mud on her knees. She reached out to touch Mikki on the shoulder.

“Hey…”

She tightly closed her eyes again, realizing that they felt wet.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

The words had barely passed through his lips when Julien made his return. Jackson couldn’t help but to glare at him with distaste. Fortunately, Julien seemingly had no plans to actually hang around longer than it took him to drop the curtains on the ground. He lectured Mikki for a bit on how to use her gun, then with a curt ‘good luck’ he was on his way. Jackson kept his eyes on his retreating figure until he vanished into the distance. If luck really was on their side, they’d never cross paths with someone like him again.

With the threat of Julien no longer being an issue, Mikki set about preparing to cover Abel’s body. She asked that she be allowed to do it herself, and both Bree and Jackson allowed her quiet and space as she went to work. Bree turned away from the scene, and Jackson wished he could do the same. For some reason though he felt like he shouldn’t. That he needed to watch as she wrapped his body. He stared at Abel’s still as stone face and felt that same knot from before start to twist in his stomach. This wasn’t something a bunch of teenagers were supposed to go through. This wasn’t something he was supposed to witness. It really felt like they were in a bad dream. Unfortunately there was no waking up from this situation.

And soon they’d all be asleep forever if they weren’t careful, just like Abel.

Mikki finished her work, and began to speak, talking about her memories of her now deceased friend, and doing her absolute best to keep herself together. Jackson couldn’t help the wetness that began to flow down his cheeks as she spoke. Her voice, cracking as it tried to hold firm, was haunting as she spoke of this person who they’d all shared a classroom with. Who they’d passed by in the halls a million times before. Who was very much alive and well only hours before.

And now he was gone.

Jackson sniffled as he felt the emotion of the moment overtake him a bit. He wiped at the tears with the back of his wrist, but it seemed that no matter how many he wiped away, more just kept coming to take their place. How many others were dead by now? How many other friends, teammates, rivals? How many of them would they have to mourn before they were the next name on the list of the deceased?

It was all just so fucking awful and wrong and he couldn’t help but to stand there sobbing like a child.

At least, for right now, they could let themselves be children for a bit longer.

Once they left this place… everything would change.

The despair flushed from her mouth with each heaped sob, as Mikki could do nothing but let it come out like vomit. But at least she knew when the vomit would end, the state she was in right now was just endless. Every time she thought she could pull herself together it came again, and the process repeated itself over and over until she realized how long she'd been there, and even the fact that she wasn't the only one crying. During one of her moments of composure she looked beside her at Bree, who was kneeling with her hand on Mikki's shoulder and tears in her own eyes. She looked back around at Jackson, who was sobbing almost as badly as she was. Unable to look at them any longer, she looked down at the wrapped body of Abel, and the longer she looked at it the more hollow she felt.

But the next wave of broken didn't come, only the emptiness she'd felt while trying to get her head around it all. It still didn't make sense, but there was nothing she could do now - she'd literally done all she could, save finding out who did it and hunting them down herself, which she wasn't entirely sure was the best course of action. In all of her worst moments she wanted them dead, and she knew for a fact she didn't want anyone who killed one of her friends to get off this island alive on the rules of the terrorists running this entire thing, but it all came back to the same answer - she just didn't know.

Like a cold, soaking newborn calf learning to walk, she got up from her knees and to her legs, soaking and tremblling all the while, but only from the cold. Whatever stage of grief this was, it sure as hell wasn't the sadness stage anymore, unless it didn't hold. She'd made some sort of progress, even if the entire concept of getting past the immediate and present death of the people she knew and loved horrified her to her core. She stood there, looking down at Abel once again, before turning on her heels and going back to her bags.

The process was quick, as Mikki transfered everything she could manage from what remained of Abel's bag to her own. She'd have time later on to figure out what was ruined and what was still good, but for now she just had to grab everything. Food, Abel's clothing, any loose implement that wasn't sewn into the bag or in the bag of another was now in Mikki's until all that remained was a soaked shell.

"I just fucking-"

She stood up with the slightly bulging bag as she turned around to Abel's body.

"I'm sorry, I need to-"

She still couldn't figure out sentences in her head, and without much of a thought as to the living, she ran from the dead.

I'm sorry Abel, I'm so fucking sorry.

I don't know what to do.

((Mikki Swift continued in Just keep breathin' and breathin' and breathin'))

It took some time, the only sounds filling the air were of sobbing.

And the entire time, Bree felt something in her stomach. As if she’d eaten something bad, or if a strong boxer had punched her straight in the abdomen. It felt like if she opened her mouth, she’d puke to get all the emotions and thoughts out like some toxin she needed to purge herself from.

All she could do was to keep her hand on Mikki as she did her own emotional purging.

Eventually, Mikki stood up, and went back to her things. It took Bree a few moments to figure out what she was doing. She certainly didn’t know until Mikki spoke again. Tried to.

Then, she ran.

“Wait-” Bree shouted.

She lifted herself off the ground, ignoring the mud staining her skin.

“Going after her,” she said to Jackson, without even looking.

And Bree, too, ran. Her shoes weren’t perfect for that either, but it was something. Anything.

___

At some point during her chase of Mikki, Bree stopped. She’d been athletic before, but something came up. She’d remembered Abel, and Ms. Garcia, and everything. She thought of all the people she knew, and what could happen.

And she bent over and vomited onto the dirt.

A moment passed, Bree feeling tears in her eyes, her shoulders heaving, and the taste of bile in her throat. But she composed herself, and started running again, towards the direction Mikki went. She had to think reasonably practically.

But thinking of the practical, obvious solution only worked for so long.

((Bree Jones continued in an Ariana Grande song))

Jackson didn’t react when Mikki pulled herself from Abel’s body and started to fill her bag with what was left of Abel’s things. He just continued to stand there sobbing silently like a stupid child. Her voice came out harsh and raspy as she tried to explain herself, but she never finished. Before Jackson knew it, Mikki was sprinting off from the site, and even though he wanted to comfort the girl, he couldn’t move from his position, so he simply watched her leave, blinded by tears. Bree had no such trouble, even though she’d just been throwing up what little was sure to be left in her stomach. She ran after the other girl, but Jackson stood in place yet again.

After all, what could he do? He wasn’t anyone’s hero.

He was just a scared kid in way over his head.

This was probably where he was going to die. He knew that, and the idea terrified him so much that his legs froze in place where he stood. Soon, the only sounds he could hear were his own soft sobs as he continued to stare down at Abel’s wrapped corpse. His eyes wouldn’t look away from it. Before long, he too would just be another dead body littered across this island, like so many students before him.

He wasn’t special.

He wasn’t going to make it.

He couldn’t even reliably protect himself with the lousy weapon they’d given him. He couldn’t protect himself, and he couldn’t protect anyone else. It would have been better if he’d been the one wrapped in that curtain. At least then it would have been over quickly. At least then he wouldn’t have to feel so helpless. But no, he wasn’t dead yet. He was still alive. He had to keep on living for a bit longer. He was jealous of Abel. Abel was more lucky than any of the rest of them.

At least he didn’t have to watch everyone he knew drop dead in front of him.

Jackson wiped away the tears staining his face with the back of his hand, and slowly walked over to his bags. He hefted them over his shoulder, and turned away from the curtain-wrapped body. He wondered briefly how far ahead of him the girls had gotten, but he knew he’d never find them now. Perhaps that was the last time he’d ever see them? It was probably better that way. Jackson only ever made things worse for other people. They were better off without him dragging them down.

So pathetic…


[Jackson Sullivan Continued in Lonely as the Sound of Lying on the Ground of an Airplane Going Down]