((Timothy Abrams continued from Relationship Status: Single))
Timothy yawned as he ambled through the schoolyard. He hadn't gotten much sleep last night. He was never one for camping, even with a tent. That was the last time he was going to try sleeping in the bushes.
He could hear some birds chirping as he walked along. It was almost... peaceful. Too bad that nobody here could enjoy it without having to worry about someone popping out of nowhere and trying to kill them.
Timothy sighed. After a few more moments of walking, he reached the playground. He looked around for a moment before putting his stuff down and sitting down on the swing set. The swings had always helped him think when he was younger. It couldn't hurt to try now.
Hortensius
Day 8, Early Morning, Before Announcements
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MrMissMrs Random†
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(Rosemary Michaels continued from Schwarze Rosen)
After leaving Joachim and the Aviary behind, Rosemary spent the rest of the day and night crying her eyes out. It was a stupid thing to do, making her even more tired and dehydrated, but she could not stop the tears from coming out. It was as if Joachim's rejection had been the final crack that broke the dam holding the rest of her feelings back. But after crying so much, she felt... different again. Not better, exactly. It was like she had nothing else to let out, and that was a relief.
She did not understand why Joachim's refusal had such a profound effect on her. Maybe her request, her craving for something that was new, something warm and not tinged with the fear of death... and learning that it was not going to happen was what sent her over the edge. Just thinking about it made her head ache more from all her crying. She had not looked at her reflection, but she guessed her eyes were puffy, and her face still felt hot. She hoped she still had some medication saved, otherwise she really would come down with something. And that would be bad.
The only problem was, she was starting forget exactly why it would be a bad thing.
Rosemary took a small gulp from her dwindling water supply when she saw someone on the playground... at least she thought it was someone. It looked so far away... everything was so much brighter today. Maybe the sun was playing tricks on her. Yeah, that was it.
She walked further, towards the boy... girl... whatever the hell was at the playground. She did not know to be afraid, she was the one with the shotgun at least.
"Who... are you?" she croaked out. Huh, maybe she should drink more water.
After leaving Joachim and the Aviary behind, Rosemary spent the rest of the day and night crying her eyes out. It was a stupid thing to do, making her even more tired and dehydrated, but she could not stop the tears from coming out. It was as if Joachim's rejection had been the final crack that broke the dam holding the rest of her feelings back. But after crying so much, she felt... different again. Not better, exactly. It was like she had nothing else to let out, and that was a relief.
She did not understand why Joachim's refusal had such a profound effect on her. Maybe her request, her craving for something that was new, something warm and not tinged with the fear of death... and learning that it was not going to happen was what sent her over the edge. Just thinking about it made her head ache more from all her crying. She had not looked at her reflection, but she guessed her eyes were puffy, and her face still felt hot. She hoped she still had some medication saved, otherwise she really would come down with something. And that would be bad.
The only problem was, she was starting forget exactly why it would be a bad thing.
Rosemary took a small gulp from her dwindling water supply when she saw someone on the playground... at least she thought it was someone. It looked so far away... everything was so much brighter today. Maybe the sun was playing tricks on her. Yeah, that was it.
She walked further, towards the boy... girl... whatever the hell was at the playground. She did not know to be afraid, she was the one with the shotgun at least.
"Who... are you?" she croaked out. Huh, maybe she should drink more water.
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Timothy jumped off of the swing at the sound of Rosemary's voice. He quickly picked up his bag and flamethrower, putting it back on as he turned to face the newcomer.
While the girl's face was rather familiar, Timothy couldn't say that he recognised her. He had seen her in the halls and in the library, but he had never worked up the courage to approach her. Funny how things turned out.
Nevertheless, this was a great opportunity. Even if they weren't exactly friends, they could still watch each others' backs until help arrived. And with that shotgun, nobody would be messing with them any time soon. He walked towards her, extending his hand for her to shake as he spoke.
"Hey, my name's Timothy...Timothy Abrams. You can call me Tim if you want. That seems to be what most people do anyways."
Her voice sounded a little funny though. Was she injured or something? Timothy hoped that she was alright. Too many people had died so far, and it would be pretty terrible to see another person join their ranks right there.
"Are you alright? You don't sound too good."
While the girl's face was rather familiar, Timothy couldn't say that he recognised her. He had seen her in the halls and in the library, but he had never worked up the courage to approach her. Funny how things turned out.
Nevertheless, this was a great opportunity. Even if they weren't exactly friends, they could still watch each others' backs until help arrived. And with that shotgun, nobody would be messing with them any time soon. He walked towards her, extending his hand for her to shake as he spoke.
"Hey, my name's Timothy...Timothy Abrams. You can call me Tim if you want. That seems to be what most people do anyways."
Her voice sounded a little funny though. Was she injured or something? Timothy hoped that she was alright. Too many people had died so far, and it would be pretty terrible to see another person join their ranks right there.
"Are you alright? You don't sound too good."
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MrMissMrs Random†
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Rosemary blinked a few times at the offered hand, as if trying to discern if it was real or not, before replying in a clearer but still raspy voice. "I'm... Rosemary Michaels. I'm sorry, Timothy, but I think I've come down with something and... yeah. So I can't... shake."
She also had not dropped her weapon, keeping it clasped to her chest with her hands. Not that she felt particularly on edge looking at Timothy. His name... probably was not spoken on the announcements. Either as a killer or dead person. Ha ha. It would be so strange talking to a dead person, with them talking back!
Her throat hurt after talking, and it felt like something slimy was dripping down into her esophagus from her nose. Her head was getting heavier. She swallowed, willing her head to look at the big and bulky thing Timothy was carrying. "Is that real?"
She also had not dropped her weapon, keeping it clasped to her chest with her hands. Not that she felt particularly on edge looking at Timothy. His name... probably was not spoken on the announcements. Either as a killer or dead person. Ha ha. It would be so strange talking to a dead person, with them talking back!
Her throat hurt after talking, and it felt like something slimy was dripping down into her esophagus from her nose. Her head was getting heavier. She swallowed, willing her head to look at the big and bulky thing Timothy was carrying. "Is that real?"
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Timothy paused for a moment, wracked by indecision. Should he tell her? He'd be giving up a huge asset if he revealed that his weapon was fake. After all, it's only use was for intimidation. Then again, Rosemary didn't exactly look like much of a threat. She was armed, of course, but she didn't really look like she was in any condition for a fight. He supposed it wouldn't hurt to be honest here.
"No, it's fake. I'm pretty surprised that you guessed that though. It looks pretty real to me."
He bent down and reached into his bag, pulling out a water bottle. Being nice here wouldn't hurt either. After all, he should be grateful that the first person that he bumped into after days of wandering alone wasn't hostile.
"Do you want something to drink? Your throat sounds pretty painful. Maybe this will help."
He smiled as held the bottle forward for her to take.
"No, it's fake. I'm pretty surprised that you guessed that though. It looks pretty real to me."
He bent down and reached into his bag, pulling out a water bottle. Being nice here wouldn't hurt either. After all, he should be grateful that the first person that he bumped into after days of wandering alone wasn't hostile.
"Do you want something to drink? Your throat sounds pretty painful. Maybe this will help."
He smiled as held the bottle forward for her to take.
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MrMissMrs Random†
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Rosemary's mouth parted in longing when Timothy offered the water bottle, before pausing. She didn't want to take rations from others. Even if it was offered, this late... late in the game? Not a game. People were dying. It was not a game if people were dying, died.... dead.
Joey, Paulo, Meera. Garrett, Venice, Naomi, Jason, they're dead, dead, dead.
She shook her head in no thanks, before taking a moment to close her eyes and try to stop the spinning in her vision the shaking had caused. Holy crap, she really must be sick.
Instead of replying, she shifted her bag to show Timothy the half-empty bottle of water she had. Half-empty? Empty? No, lets go with half-full. Half-full is positive. Yeah, must keep positive!
"I just... allergy meds...." Rosemary shoved her hand into her pocket, the one with the baggy she had packed. Not the one with her butterfly knife. Why would she need the butterfly knife right now? That would be silly.
She finally pulled the plastic bag out of her pocket. It was crumpled from being shoved in there so many times, but she could still see her name and the name of the pills that was written in big, black sharpie ink by her mom. Mom. Dad. Rosemary wondered if they had made a grave with her name on it yet. Did they put it next to Ryan's? Oh, no. Ryan got cremated. His ashes were scattered at the beach after the funeral. Ryan was everywhere now. In the ocean, in the trees, and probably in the air she pulled into her shuddering lungs when she discovered the baggy was empty. All empty, no half-full crap to be had in this baggy!
Rosemary stuffed the plastic bag back into her pocket. That was stupid. Why would she put it back? She would think about it later, right now she had to get to the first aid kit. It had to be there. Something had to be in there that could help. Aspirin? Aspirin, yeah. Stop her head from feeling so hot...
Woah, the world was spinning again. Rosemary tried to focus on Timothy's face, but it was coming in just as blurry. It made her dizzy. She hoped that she wouldn't throw up.
She sat, or rather, fell to the ground. One hand clutching her head as she breathed in and out, and the other still gripping to her gun.
Joey, Paulo, Meera. Garrett, Venice, Naomi, Jason, they're dead, dead, dead.
She shook her head in no thanks, before taking a moment to close her eyes and try to stop the spinning in her vision the shaking had caused. Holy crap, she really must be sick.
Instead of replying, she shifted her bag to show Timothy the half-empty bottle of water she had. Half-empty? Empty? No, lets go with half-full. Half-full is positive. Yeah, must keep positive!
"I just... allergy meds...." Rosemary shoved her hand into her pocket, the one with the baggy she had packed. Not the one with her butterfly knife. Why would she need the butterfly knife right now? That would be silly.
She finally pulled the plastic bag out of her pocket. It was crumpled from being shoved in there so many times, but she could still see her name and the name of the pills that was written in big, black sharpie ink by her mom. Mom. Dad. Rosemary wondered if they had made a grave with her name on it yet. Did they put it next to Ryan's? Oh, no. Ryan got cremated. His ashes were scattered at the beach after the funeral. Ryan was everywhere now. In the ocean, in the trees, and probably in the air she pulled into her shuddering lungs when she discovered the baggy was empty. All empty, no half-full crap to be had in this baggy!
Rosemary stuffed the plastic bag back into her pocket. That was stupid. Why would she put it back? She would think about it later, right now she had to get to the first aid kit. It had to be there. Something had to be in there that could help. Aspirin? Aspirin, yeah. Stop her head from feeling so hot...
Woah, the world was spinning again. Rosemary tried to focus on Timothy's face, but it was coming in just as blurry. It made her dizzy. She hoped that she wouldn't throw up.
She sat, or rather, fell to the ground. One hand clutching her head as she breathed in and out, and the other still gripping to her gun.
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Timothy watched nervously as Rosemary stumbled around before falling. He was getting more and more confused as the conversation went on. First she said that she had come down with something, then she mentioned allergy problems? She didn't seem like she was in the right mental state to lie about something like that, but still...
In any case, he was getting pretty worried. He had never been around somebody so sick before, and he had no idea what to do. He quickly walked over and knelt down beside her, his face clearly showing the anxiety that was consuming his thoughts.
"Wow, um, you really don't look too well. Is there anything that I can do to help?"
He kicked himself internally for his awkwardness as he waited for her response. He just felt so...useless.
In any case, he was getting pretty worried. He had never been around somebody so sick before, and he had no idea what to do. He quickly walked over and knelt down beside her, his face clearly showing the anxiety that was consuming his thoughts.
"Wow, um, you really don't look too well. Is there anything that I can do to help?"
He kicked himself internally for his awkwardness as he waited for her response. He just felt so...useless.
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MrMissMrs Random†
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Rosemary moved her head up to meet Timothy's eyes. Her face felt hot, but not the embarrassed hot or the crying hot. He was still coming in fuzzy. Like when there was an emergency broadcast on the television. Along with the irritating noise.
He was asking her what he should do. How the fuck should she know? If he could just shut up for moment then she would be able to think. If he did that the world would stop spinning, and everyone would be alive, everyone would be safe. This is just a bad dream. If she just relaxed, and was left to think, to sleep, she could know what to do next. Maybe she should take an aspirin... ah, that's what she was trying to remember. Aspirin.
Aspirin, aspirin. Don't forget the aspirin.
"Aspirin... in the med kit," Rosemary hacked out. "I need it. I need it... please."
Wonderful thinking. To be polite when you're probably getting sicker by the minute. Good idea. She could get it herself. She could do that.
Rosemary reached for her bag, but her fingertips only grazed the material. And it seemed to be getting farther and farther away... it was so frustrating.
"P-please.... p-please... I don't... I don't want to die..."
He was asking her what he should do. How the fuck should she know? If he could just shut up for moment then she would be able to think. If he did that the world would stop spinning, and everyone would be alive, everyone would be safe. This is just a bad dream. If she just relaxed, and was left to think, to sleep, she could know what to do next. Maybe she should take an aspirin... ah, that's what she was trying to remember. Aspirin.
Aspirin, aspirin. Don't forget the aspirin.
"Aspirin... in the med kit," Rosemary hacked out. "I need it. I need it... please."
Wonderful thinking. To be polite when you're probably getting sicker by the minute. Good idea. She could get it herself. She could do that.
Rosemary reached for her bag, but her fingertips only grazed the material. And it seemed to be getting farther and farther away... it was so frustrating.
"P-please.... p-please... I don't... I don't want to die..."
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Timothy placed the flamethrower on the ground as looked towards the bag. He was still pretty nervous about the whole situation, but at least now there was something he could do about it. He pushed his glasses further up his face and pulled it towards him and began rummaging through it.
He gingerly moved aside the various remaining objects in the duffel bag. After a few moments, he located the first aid kit. The clasps opened fairly easily, revealing the content inside. Timothy looked over its contents, vaguely impressed. It was pretty well stocked considering that everyone who received one was expected to die. He tried to shake that thought out of his head. Nobody was going to die right now, especially not the girl sitting in front of him.
He quickly pulled out the aspirin and handed it to Rosemary. He tried to give her a reassuring smile, but he couldn't hide his anxiety no matter how hard he tried, leaving the expression looking rather forced. He spoke softly and slowly, just like his mother did to him when he was sick.
"Don't worry. You're not going to die. I promise."
He gingerly moved aside the various remaining objects in the duffel bag. After a few moments, he located the first aid kit. The clasps opened fairly easily, revealing the content inside. Timothy looked over its contents, vaguely impressed. It was pretty well stocked considering that everyone who received one was expected to die. He tried to shake that thought out of his head. Nobody was going to die right now, especially not the girl sitting in front of him.
He quickly pulled out the aspirin and handed it to Rosemary. He tried to give her a reassuring smile, but he couldn't hide his anxiety no matter how hard he tried, leaving the expression looking rather forced. He spoke softly and slowly, just like his mother did to him when he was sick.
"Don't worry. You're not going to die. I promise."
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MrMissMrs Random†
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Rosemary tried to focus on the capsule that was put into the palm of her hand, tried to focus on something tangible. This was not a dream. It was not a dream. The pill in her hand was real, and almost broke with the grip she had on it. Rosemary lifted her hand up and shoved the pill in her mouth. It tasted awful on her parched tongue. It was even worse swallowing it down without any water. She did not want a repeat with grasping for the pills so soon, and forced the dry and bitter substance down her parched throat.
Timothy sounded kind, reassuring her. She tried to move her focus on this boy that was wearing glasses in front of her. She wished she had known his face better, back when they were at school. It would have been nice to be... friends with someone like Timothy.
This was not a dream. And that meant everyone was still dead.
"I-I don't want to die..." Rosemary repeated. "B-but my friends didn't either. And they're dead."
"Ev-everyone is dying here. Because of the- the beasts that put us here. And now we're the beasts. We're-"
Rosemary did not understand why she was crying again, when her mouth felt so dry. Why couldn't the moisture have been made into saliva instead of more useless tears. She shuddered, trying to stop the dry heaving. Fuck, fuck, fuck, why couldn't her body just do what she wanted. Her bleary eyes rested again on Timothy.
"L-look at me- l-look at the blood on my sleeves. T-that's Becca Everett, w-when I tried to take her collar off after she d-died. I-it was awful, and it didn't work. Y-yet I didn't stop! Then J-joey- oh, god!"
The bloody stumps of their necks were coming back. Now it really felt like mere days ago since her bloody act had happened. t made her feel even more sick.
"I-I killed him, when I tried to take off his collar. I didn't want to, b-but that doesn't matter. He's- he's dead because of me! I'm- I'm a murderer! We're- we're all becoming murderers. Murdering each other and murdering ourselves."
Rosemary bit her cracked lips to hold the aspirin down and stop her sobs. She was a confessed murderer, yet she still wanted to live. It was so pathetic, and she expected the boy in front of her to think she had gone insane. She was afraid he would be right.
Timothy sounded kind, reassuring her. She tried to move her focus on this boy that was wearing glasses in front of her. She wished she had known his face better, back when they were at school. It would have been nice to be... friends with someone like Timothy.
This was not a dream. And that meant everyone was still dead.
"I-I don't want to die..." Rosemary repeated. "B-but my friends didn't either. And they're dead."
"Ev-everyone is dying here. Because of the- the beasts that put us here. And now we're the beasts. We're-"
Rosemary did not understand why she was crying again, when her mouth felt so dry. Why couldn't the moisture have been made into saliva instead of more useless tears. She shuddered, trying to stop the dry heaving. Fuck, fuck, fuck, why couldn't her body just do what she wanted. Her bleary eyes rested again on Timothy.
"L-look at me- l-look at the blood on my sleeves. T-that's Becca Everett, w-when I tried to take her collar off after she d-died. I-it was awful, and it didn't work. Y-yet I didn't stop! Then J-joey- oh, god!"
The bloody stumps of their necks were coming back. Now it really felt like mere days ago since her bloody act had happened. t made her feel even more sick.
"I-I killed him, when I tried to take off his collar. I didn't want to, b-but that doesn't matter. He's- he's dead because of me! I'm- I'm a murderer! We're- we're all becoming murderers. Murdering each other and murdering ourselves."
Rosemary bit her cracked lips to hold the aspirin down and stop her sobs. She was a confessed murderer, yet she still wanted to live. It was so pathetic, and she expected the boy in front of her to think she had gone insane. She was afraid he would be right.
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Timothy's heart pounded in his chest as he looked around for help. If he was a little uncomfortable before, he was seriously freaked out right now. He had never seen anyone break down like this before. What was he supposed to say here? Clearly just reassuring her wouldn't work.
He wiped the sweat from his forehead. To be fair, he had been rather lucky thus far. He hadn't actually seen anyone die in front of him, or even stumble on the corpse of someone that he knew. Fate had sheltered him from all the horrors that had happened on this island, so how could he possibly hope to be able to understand someone who hadn't been so fortunate? How could a civilian truly understand the horrors of war?
There was a brief silence. Timothy waited, unable to look at the broken girl in front of him. In movies, all it took was a quick slap to get someone to pull themselves together. It didn't seem like that would be very useful here. He doubted if Rosemary would ever be able to regain her composure.
He couldn't really understand exactly what she was saying, but she clearly was blaming herself for someone's death. Timothy didn't know the circumstances behind it, but he didn't suspect her to be any sort of a threat if the very thought of those deaths made her completely shatter into a sobbing mess.
With the pause in conversation becoming even more uncomfortably long, Timothy decided to speak up. Lies had not served him well in the past, so he figured that the best course of action here would be honesty.
"I'm sorry. I-I don't know what to say. I'm not sure what happened to you before we met, so it's not my place to pass judgement."
He paused, brushing his fingers over a patch of grass.
"I'm not very good at talking to people, so I'm sorry if I'm not helping you very much. This place... It just seems like no matter what choices we make here, they always end up to be the wrong ones."
Timothy sighed as he tore a clump of grass up from the ground and dropped it again, waiting for a response.
He wiped the sweat from his forehead. To be fair, he had been rather lucky thus far. He hadn't actually seen anyone die in front of him, or even stumble on the corpse of someone that he knew. Fate had sheltered him from all the horrors that had happened on this island, so how could he possibly hope to be able to understand someone who hadn't been so fortunate? How could a civilian truly understand the horrors of war?
There was a brief silence. Timothy waited, unable to look at the broken girl in front of him. In movies, all it took was a quick slap to get someone to pull themselves together. It didn't seem like that would be very useful here. He doubted if Rosemary would ever be able to regain her composure.
He couldn't really understand exactly what she was saying, but she clearly was blaming herself for someone's death. Timothy didn't know the circumstances behind it, but he didn't suspect her to be any sort of a threat if the very thought of those deaths made her completely shatter into a sobbing mess.
With the pause in conversation becoming even more uncomfortably long, Timothy decided to speak up. Lies had not served him well in the past, so he figured that the best course of action here would be honesty.
"I'm sorry. I-I don't know what to say. I'm not sure what happened to you before we met, so it's not my place to pass judgement."
He paused, brushing his fingers over a patch of grass.
"I'm not very good at talking to people, so I'm sorry if I'm not helping you very much. This place... It just seems like no matter what choices we make here, they always end up to be the wrong ones."
Timothy sighed as he tore a clump of grass up from the ground and dropped it again, waiting for a response.
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MrMissMrs Random†
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He wasn't sure? Guess he hadn't been paying attention to the announcements. She took the pause to breathe, trying to even her heart rate after that outburst, but she did her best to listen. And she had to admit it, he made a valid point. How come everyone always made a valid point? She could never just lash out in peace, when there was always someone or some moronic code holding her back.
Rosemary wasn't a player. Not now, at least. She had broken, after eight days of running scared and losing things and people she cared about. But it had done the same thing to everyone. Even the scared little boy in front of her.
She was broken, and she spent a whole day and wandering the island letting shards of her fall. It was time to pick up the fucking pieces.
"Our choices are always the wrong ones," she echoed. It felt too forgiving, too much of a blanket for all their heinous acts. But that was a quote that at least would keep her walking.
"I-I'm sorry for... the freak out." Rosemary said in her hoarse voice. Shit, her throat hurt, but she was starting to feel less hot, and world had stopped spinning. Maybe the aspirin was working. At least she hoped it was. She would not put it past the terrorists that if they dropped over a hundred and fifty students on a island, planning for them to fight to the death, then they would think it was a good fucking prank to replace actual medication with placebo sugar pills. "It's been... a long week. But, you probably feel the same."
But if she was going to put herself back together, she would need this boy's help.
"C-can I have some water?"
Rosemary wasn't a player. Not now, at least. She had broken, after eight days of running scared and losing things and people she cared about. But it had done the same thing to everyone. Even the scared little boy in front of her.
She was broken, and she spent a whole day and wandering the island letting shards of her fall. It was time to pick up the fucking pieces.
"Our choices are always the wrong ones," she echoed. It felt too forgiving, too much of a blanket for all their heinous acts. But that was a quote that at least would keep her walking.
"I-I'm sorry for... the freak out." Rosemary said in her hoarse voice. Shit, her throat hurt, but she was starting to feel less hot, and world had stopped spinning. Maybe the aspirin was working. At least she hoped it was. She would not put it past the terrorists that if they dropped over a hundred and fifty students on a island, planning for them to fight to the death, then they would think it was a good fucking prank to replace actual medication with placebo sugar pills. "It's been... a long week. But, you probably feel the same."
But if she was going to put herself back together, she would need this boy's help.
"C-can I have some water?"
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((Travis Webster continued from A Long Time Ago We Used To Be Friends...))
Oblivious to the two kids nearby, Travis Webster woke up with a loud groan. He'd been sleeping (albeit very poorly) in one of the rusted schoolbuses on the school grounds. Feverish, exhausted and weak, he'd sought out shelter from all the very bad, and heavily armored, people who were after him on the island.
He began opening up a bottle of water to wash out his mouth as he slowly stretched out his muscles. He was going to stay put and wait for the announcements... unless one of the previously mentioned people found him first.
Oblivious to the two kids nearby, Travis Webster woke up with a loud groan. He'd been sleeping (albeit very poorly) in one of the rusted schoolbuses on the school grounds. Feverish, exhausted and weak, he'd sought out shelter from all the very bad, and heavily armored, people who were after him on the island.
He began opening up a bottle of water to wash out his mouth as he slowly stretched out his muscles. He was going to stay put and wait for the announcements... unless one of the previously mentioned people found him first.
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Timothy dropped the grass in his hands as he heard Rosemary's request. His body relaxed, knowing that the situation had finally calmed down. He gave an awkward smile again before responding.
"Yeah, it definitely has. I'll get you some water."
Finally, something that he could actually help with! He turned around and picked up the water bottle that he had offered her earlier. He felt a little uneasy at giving away a whole bottle, but he knew that he'd feel like a huge jerk if he didn't. Rules of chivalry and all that. He probably had enough to last him until help came, anyway. Even if he didn't, there were surely plenty of abandoned bags lying around.
He sighed quietly as he moved towards her, getting ready to place the water bottle in her hands. Once he was close though, he stopped. It was rather pathetic to think about, but he had never been this close to a girl before. His cheeks reddened slightly. Feeling uncomfortable, he quickly set the bottle on the ground near her lap and pulled away.
He was just about to open his mouth to say something when he was interrupted by the crackle of the announcements.
"Yeah, it definitely has. I'll get you some water."
Finally, something that he could actually help with! He turned around and picked up the water bottle that he had offered her earlier. He felt a little uneasy at giving away a whole bottle, but he knew that he'd feel like a huge jerk if he didn't. Rules of chivalry and all that. He probably had enough to last him until help came, anyway. Even if he didn't, there were surely plenty of abandoned bags lying around.
He sighed quietly as he moved towards her, getting ready to place the water bottle in her hands. Once he was close though, he stopped. It was rather pathetic to think about, but he had never been this close to a girl before. His cheeks reddened slightly. Feeling uncomfortable, he quickly set the bottle on the ground near her lap and pulled away.
He was just about to open his mouth to say something when he was interrupted by the crackle of the announcements.
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MrMissMrs Random†
- Posts: 213
- Joined: Wed Sep 05, 2018 2:39 am
Rosemary focused on the sound of water sloshing in the bottle, moving her torso forward so her hands grasped the presented salvation.
"T-thank you." she got out, before twisting the cap off and taking a long drink. The first gulp almost made her throat hurt more, but then the liquid was soothing. No wonder humans couldn't survive without water for more than three days. It tasted delicious.
A little over half, maybe half-full, of the bottle was left when she stopped drinking and listened to the announcements. More death, less areas. They were pulling everyone in, closer and closer together. The people who had killed multiple times would get more anxious, and those who had not more desperate.
Rosemary recalled one of the first thoughts she had on the island: "Maybe it's the Beast, maybe it's just us."
William Golding did not know how right he had been when he wrote that quote. Sure, the terrorists them there, making themselves to be gods, to be "The Beast" that killed them. But in the end, nobody else saw their faces except for the damned- the students. But they only saw them for a moment, when one of them blast the brains of one of their teachers. And now, all that was left of that first, bloody scene was a disembodied voice, the warmth of a meal given for killing, the metal of a weapon, and the drone of a detonating collar. Nothing that could be fought, or killed.
Which left just them. Them, their senior class, to become beasts.
She chose not to share her thoughts with Timothy, and remained silent throughout the duration of the voice's speech. The School was not a danger zone, and that, at least, was one relief.
"Anyone on there... a friend of yours?" she asked the boy afterwards. There was noise, but Rosemary decided to ignore it unless it persisted. The world had gone spinning due to her fever, and she would not entertain the thought of her hearing being effected also.
"T-thank you." she got out, before twisting the cap off and taking a long drink. The first gulp almost made her throat hurt more, but then the liquid was soothing. No wonder humans couldn't survive without water for more than three days. It tasted delicious.
A little over half, maybe half-full, of the bottle was left when she stopped drinking and listened to the announcements. More death, less areas. They were pulling everyone in, closer and closer together. The people who had killed multiple times would get more anxious, and those who had not more desperate.
Rosemary recalled one of the first thoughts she had on the island: "Maybe it's the Beast, maybe it's just us."
William Golding did not know how right he had been when he wrote that quote. Sure, the terrorists them there, making themselves to be gods, to be "The Beast" that killed them. But in the end, nobody else saw their faces except for the damned- the students. But they only saw them for a moment, when one of them blast the brains of one of their teachers. And now, all that was left of that first, bloody scene was a disembodied voice, the warmth of a meal given for killing, the metal of a weapon, and the drone of a detonating collar. Nothing that could be fought, or killed.
Which left just them. Them, their senior class, to become beasts.
She chose not to share her thoughts with Timothy, and remained silent throughout the duration of the voice's speech. The School was not a danger zone, and that, at least, was one relief.
"Anyone on there... a friend of yours?" she asked the boy afterwards. There was noise, but Rosemary decided to ignore it unless it persisted. The world had gone spinning due to her fever, and she would not entertain the thought of her hearing being effected also.
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