Norwegian Wood

[Laurels]

((Rachael Langdon continued from Affluenza))

Rachael's head hung low above the desk. She was sitting in one of the abandoned classrooms in the high school. The dusty room looked like it hadn't been used in a long time, but everything was still as it had been before this island was abandoned. She grabbed a desk near the front of the class and took her place, keeping her bag on the floor beside her.

Her face was still flushed from crying. The announcement had played a few hours ago, informing her that more people had indeed passed away. She couldn't even feel joy that Michael, Tim, Corey, Stacy, and Miles weren't on the announcement. Miles and Stacy probably were still angry at her for her outburst the other day. She spent most of the day wandering the Northern Town before resting in an empty house.

When she awoke from the announcements, she began to walk around until she came across the school buildings. She wandered the school, hoping that someone she knew was there. Michael and Tim might have returned with Corey and were waiting for Rachael and the others to come back. Unfortunately, the schools were still empty, as she realized they would be with them being a Danger Zone the other day. She resigned herself to the empty classroom when her search turned up empty.

What exactly was she going to do? More than half the class had to be dead at this point, and yet she was still alive. Why? What possible reason could her continued existence have? She hadn't done anything to justify her survival, and her deceased classmates probably had just as many reasons to live. She could argue that she wanted to survive to see her family, to go to school, to accomplish her dreams, but there's no way she could be the only person who could claim that as their reason for continuing on. They probably had better reasons for surviving than she had.

That's why she had the knife in her lap.

Katarin's knife. A prize for helping Stacy kill the girl. It had been two days since the incident, and she still hadn't chucked the knife away. Maybe the knife did make her feel somewhat more secure as she walked around, but not by much. But she had it now, and she could maybe put it to use.

Rachael rolled the sleeve of her shirt up slightly, exposing her left wrist. After seven days with no bath, Rachael's skin didn't look at all appealing, covered in sweat and dirt from moving between locations. Rachael laid her arm on the desk, palm side up. The unsheathed knife was in her right hand. She started to breathe slowly.

"You can do this," she muttered to herself. "You're making the right choice."

Rachael moved the knife over her wrist, pointing the blade down on her wrist. Her breathing was starting to pick up, and she could feel tears welling up.

"Y-y-y-you can't survive this game," she continued to mutter, her voice starting to break. "No one here...expects you to win. Y-y-you'll make things easier for everyone."

Rachael's grip on the knife began to shake. All she had to do was press down. Down, then across. A few minutes later and she'd be free of all this pain. Tears began to fall down her cheek. Her shaking was increasing along with her breathing. She was starting to pant as she tried to press the knife down. She could feel the tip of the blade starting to leave an imprint on her skin, not enough to break the skin, but enough to feel a tingling sensation from the spot.

"J-j-just do it..." she whimpered.

She clutched her eyes shut. Maybe if her eyes were closed, she could do this much more easily. Now her whole body was shaking. Rachael raised the knife up. One swing down, then she could do it. She raised the knife in the air, keeping her eyes closed. She was ready to swing it down.

But she couldn't. She loud out a loud cry and let go of the knife. The knife fell onto the desk, right as she quickly moved her arm out of the way. She opened her eyes and looked at the knife on the table. Through her teary eyes, she could see the blade that she almost used to end her life. In an instant, she felt a wave of frustration boil up out of her. She grabbed the desk by both edges and flung it to the side, letting out another scream.

The desk was thrown over, slamming into the desk next to it before falling over. The knife landed on the floor as well. Rachael remained in her seat, keeping her hands in her lap. Finally, she let out another cry as she buried her face in her hands and started to weep.

I'm so weak...

After a few minutes of crying, Rachael wiped her eyes and stood up. She walked over to the turned over desk and sat it back up. She took a few seconds to ensure the desks were neatly arranged. After that, she picked up the knife. She sighed and reached for its sheath. Once it was covered, she opened her bag and stuffed it inside. Out of sight, out of mind.

Rachael grabbed her bag and walked out of the room. She couldn't stay here any longer.

((Rachael Langdon continued in The Crazy Kids))