Slowly, inch by metaphorical inch, all the pain went away.
((Michelle White, continued from Hiding From The Truth))
Well, no. That wasn’t the right way to put it. It turned out that even after everything that had happened Michelle still wasn’t good at choosing the right words. No. The pain had faded, maybe. Changed from murky and heavy to clear and light. It still hurt so much more than anything else she’d ever felt and she knew that she wasn’t going to make it out of this church alive but there were… things, multiple, that she could maybe fill the glass with. She didn’t really know what those things were but, like, she didn’t know. She was going to die here and she was never going to see home or Anvi or her parents or anyone else ever again and yet somehow that seemed fine, completely okay with her. She could die and she could leave this place forever even if she hadn’t been able to unite her classmates and stop the Americans, she just had to…
Just had to…
Just had to do a couple last things first. Maybe they weren’t the type of things that would allow her to leave here in peace but they were still things she wanted to do. Maybe she’d failed her goal harder than she’d ever failed anything, but..
She could still do good things. Maybe she could make... someone happy, she didn’t know.
Good plan?
Well. She giggled.
Not as if she had many other options.
So she got up. Did her best to just try and move her body. Her right arm went out, did its best to just grab and keep hold of the pew above her. She pushed her body up after that after way more fuss than there should’ve been and all the blood that didn’t want to go with her fell onto the floor, fused with the puddle now around her feet. It was… a sight, certainly, but the connection that all the blood there was hers and that all the red stuff coming from her was only adding to it didn’t quite reach her brain, honestly didn’t strike her as something she needed to think about. All she wanted to put her focus on was the church’s altar, to her left. Kian’s corpse, sorta-not-really in front of her. Calista, beyond Kian, in the other room.
Three things. Maybe enough effort left in her to do them all together.
She had to try, at least. There wasn’t much other option left.
Anthem
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Wham Yubeesling
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Wham Yubeesling
- Posts: 1256
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- Location: there is a man standing behind you
- Team Affiliation: Stephanie's Buccaneers
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She’d done it, eventually. Both the corpses were now laid side by side, in front of the altar. It was far harder work than Michelle had expected to do so (she really should have known that people weighed a ton, it seemed so easy when she was giving Anvi or Peacock a piggyback) but all in all it’d been worth it. Now Calista had somewhere other than a dingy backroom to rest. Maybe Kian would appreciate… she didn’t know. She knew that maybe Kian would’ve been happy to know that his body was laid down where it was — to Calista’s left, right under the alter at the back end of the church. She hadn’t ever talked to him that much before this so she didn’t know whether he was religious or not, but… yeah. It seemed good. Maybe he felt good.
And she felt good as well. It still felt like she could maybe do more; maybe head out and find someone and maybe get them to bring peace to the rest of this place, do what she couldn’t. Maybe she could find Pippa again, try and stop her before she got a… third, maybe? Before she was a risk to anyone else.
But no. She didn’t really want to do that. She wanted to do… what she felt best, maybe. What she was absolutely sure she could achieve with what little time she had left. She took a step forward. Tried to bend down. The weight of her own body was too much and she ended up throwing herself down onto the ground but she recovered, got back up on her knees again. Giggled, even though nobody was around to see her mess that up.
Sighed. They were probably all gone by this point. Wouldn’t have laughed even if she were here. It was… time to stop wasting time like she always did. She just had to do this.
So…
“Um… hey, God. Are you there?”
Her hands were together, like they were supposed to be. Her eyes were on the cross on the back wall. She didn’t know whether she was supposed to do that part. Maybe her eyes were supposed to be closed?
She didn’t know. If it wasn’t obvious, Michelle White had never prayed before.
“Um, sorry if that’s not how I’m supposed to start a prayer. I’m, um, not really familiar with all this stuff. I know there’s, um, certain things I’m supposed to say while praying but I don’t really know what they are, so, um… sorry. I’m not a very good Christian.”
She sighed. Looked down on the ground before closing her eyes and… yeah, actually. This was how she was supposed to look. She stayed the way she was.
“I remember, um, reading through a scripture textbook once to see like, a prayer you’re supposed to make when you want to become a Christian and stuff. I, um, meant to remember what it was. Maybe give it to you when I turn eighteen or when I’m in a retirement home or something. I, um…”
She paused. Shook her head.
“I wasn’t really expecting to die so quickly, you know? I, um, thought I had my whole life ahead of me. I thought I’d go to uni and become a writer and maybe get a boyfriend or maybe get a girlfriend and, um, I’d live my life from there. I thought that I’d know Anvi for the rest of my life. I thought I’d see Galahad and my family and all the other people at least one last time and, um, sorry, I don’t really know if I’m talking about high school anymore. That’s, like, the real curse of this place, isn’t it? It just, um, takes over you and makes sure that it’s the only thing you can think about and maybe I’ve turned into what they wanted me to turn into. I spent all my time here hoping and trying to make sure my classmates didn’t turn into patriots and, um, I guess that turned me into a patriot myself, I guess? Like, I didn’t really have all that many thoughts about my own country before and every moment here it’s been at my forefront and-...”
She stopped. Took a breath.
“Sorry. I talk about myself too much. It’s… a thing I do. There are many things I do. I… probably shouldn’t talk about them. I probably should stop talking about myself.”
She chuckled. Put her head down, even though she wasn’t looking at anything.
“But, um, I don’t really know if you exist or not so this is why I’m only talking to you right now. Maybe… maybe the people below me would’ve talked to you. I don’t know. The point is, um… there are, um, two people below me right now, in case you can’t see. I never really knew them all that well, if I could be honest, but…”
Another breath. All was black around Michelle.
“I promise they’re good people. I don’t really know if they are or not but… I can vouch for them. They might’ve done bad things maybe before here but if they’ve done anything here… please don’t blame them. It’s not their fault. They were taken from their homes and they saw our teachers die right in front of them and they were placed here, and…”
There was something on her face. Cold? She couldn’t really tell, honestly. All the blood on her clothes cancelled out any other sensation.
“It’s hard, not falling, you know? I… I used to think I was a good person before I came here. Like, I did good things, I encouraged other people to do good things, I tried to make sure that I didn’t do bad things and sorry God I don’t usually like, brag about the things I do, I’m just saying this because it only took me a day for me to kill someone here. I didn’t mean it — I only wanted to stop a fight and I had to push someone away to do it — but he’s still dead, isn’t he? Morton probably had a family and he probably had friends and I… I did what Pippa did to me. I did a bad thing and-”
She choked. She could still breathe, and yet the sound from her throat tried to pretend otherwise.
“And I’m a bad person now. They aren’t. I don’t know if there’s a heaven or a hell and whether you’ve already chosen where they’ll go if they even exist if there’s even someone listening to me right now but…”
…
“But if there is, put them in the good place. If I somehow made it to the good place and one of them got put in the bad place let them take my place instead. I don’t know how that would even work, just…”
One last pause.
“I just want to do what it takes for someone- something to maybe forgive me. I’ve… killed people. I’ve let people down. I made up a plan to try and save people and I wasn’t able to get it to happen. I don’t know if you exist or not and I don’t know whether you or anyone can forgive me, but… let me know if you can. Because…”
One last breath.
“Because if you can forgive me, then… then maybe I can try to forgive myself. A-”
One last choke.
“Amen.”
And she felt good as well. It still felt like she could maybe do more; maybe head out and find someone and maybe get them to bring peace to the rest of this place, do what she couldn’t. Maybe she could find Pippa again, try and stop her before she got a… third, maybe? Before she was a risk to anyone else.
But no. She didn’t really want to do that. She wanted to do… what she felt best, maybe. What she was absolutely sure she could achieve with what little time she had left. She took a step forward. Tried to bend down. The weight of her own body was too much and she ended up throwing herself down onto the ground but she recovered, got back up on her knees again. Giggled, even though nobody was around to see her mess that up.
Sighed. They were probably all gone by this point. Wouldn’t have laughed even if she were here. It was… time to stop wasting time like she always did. She just had to do this.
So…
“Um… hey, God. Are you there?”
Her hands were together, like they were supposed to be. Her eyes were on the cross on the back wall. She didn’t know whether she was supposed to do that part. Maybe her eyes were supposed to be closed?
She didn’t know. If it wasn’t obvious, Michelle White had never prayed before.
“Um, sorry if that’s not how I’m supposed to start a prayer. I’m, um, not really familiar with all this stuff. I know there’s, um, certain things I’m supposed to say while praying but I don’t really know what they are, so, um… sorry. I’m not a very good Christian.”
She sighed. Looked down on the ground before closing her eyes and… yeah, actually. This was how she was supposed to look. She stayed the way she was.
“I remember, um, reading through a scripture textbook once to see like, a prayer you’re supposed to make when you want to become a Christian and stuff. I, um, meant to remember what it was. Maybe give it to you when I turn eighteen or when I’m in a retirement home or something. I, um…”
She paused. Shook her head.
“I wasn’t really expecting to die so quickly, you know? I, um, thought I had my whole life ahead of me. I thought I’d go to uni and become a writer and maybe get a boyfriend or maybe get a girlfriend and, um, I’d live my life from there. I thought that I’d know Anvi for the rest of my life. I thought I’d see Galahad and my family and all the other people at least one last time and, um, sorry, I don’t really know if I’m talking about high school anymore. That’s, like, the real curse of this place, isn’t it? It just, um, takes over you and makes sure that it’s the only thing you can think about and maybe I’ve turned into what they wanted me to turn into. I spent all my time here hoping and trying to make sure my classmates didn’t turn into patriots and, um, I guess that turned me into a patriot myself, I guess? Like, I didn’t really have all that many thoughts about my own country before and every moment here it’s been at my forefront and-...”
She stopped. Took a breath.
“Sorry. I talk about myself too much. It’s… a thing I do. There are many things I do. I… probably shouldn’t talk about them. I probably should stop talking about myself.”
She chuckled. Put her head down, even though she wasn’t looking at anything.
“But, um, I don’t really know if you exist or not so this is why I’m only talking to you right now. Maybe… maybe the people below me would’ve talked to you. I don’t know. The point is, um… there are, um, two people below me right now, in case you can’t see. I never really knew them all that well, if I could be honest, but…”
Another breath. All was black around Michelle.
“I promise they’re good people. I don’t really know if they are or not but… I can vouch for them. They might’ve done bad things maybe before here but if they’ve done anything here… please don’t blame them. It’s not their fault. They were taken from their homes and they saw our teachers die right in front of them and they were placed here, and…”
There was something on her face. Cold? She couldn’t really tell, honestly. All the blood on her clothes cancelled out any other sensation.
“It’s hard, not falling, you know? I… I used to think I was a good person before I came here. Like, I did good things, I encouraged other people to do good things, I tried to make sure that I didn’t do bad things and sorry God I don’t usually like, brag about the things I do, I’m just saying this because it only took me a day for me to kill someone here. I didn’t mean it — I only wanted to stop a fight and I had to push someone away to do it — but he’s still dead, isn’t he? Morton probably had a family and he probably had friends and I… I did what Pippa did to me. I did a bad thing and-”
She choked. She could still breathe, and yet the sound from her throat tried to pretend otherwise.
“And I’m a bad person now. They aren’t. I don’t know if there’s a heaven or a hell and whether you’ve already chosen where they’ll go if they even exist if there’s even someone listening to me right now but…”
…
“But if there is, put them in the good place. If I somehow made it to the good place and one of them got put in the bad place let them take my place instead. I don’t know how that would even work, just…”
One last pause.
“I just want to do what it takes for someone- something to maybe forgive me. I’ve… killed people. I’ve let people down. I made up a plan to try and save people and I wasn’t able to get it to happen. I don’t know if you exist or not and I don’t know whether you or anyone can forgive me, but… let me know if you can. Because…”
One last breath.
“Because if you can forgive me, then… then maybe I can try to forgive myself. A-”
One last choke.
“Amen.”
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Wham Yubeesling
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She felt sleepy.
It was an odd dichotomy. She felt like she still had enough energy to do more and yet she knew that she would soon be closing her eyes for the final time. Perhaps she could leave the church, see if there was one last thing she could do, but… no. She’d done enough. Kian and Calista now had a place where they were in peace and she now had a place where she would soon find peace and she didn’t want to ruin that trying to do more than she reasonably could. She’d done enough and she’d received enough. There was maybe a sense that not dying would be preferable to this but ultimately she thought that maybe she could manage it. Live with death. Be happy with what she had.
But the fact remained. There was something she could still do. She still had enough left to do one more thing.
So what could it be? One last song, maybe? She felt like singing and she imagined that she could maybe send a message with her last words. There was admittedly one in her head already, one from one of her favourite musicals. A character — a man leaving everything because of the war or a woman who had lost everything because of the war, depending on whichever version — saying that they don’t care what country they may become a part of because they knew that no matter what, the borders of their country would always be around their heart. It fit, maybe. It gave memories of the other song she sang and that was kinda embarrassing (she was kinda happy she was about to die because now singing that and then immediately getting killed wouldn’t give her any cringey memories a year from now) but still. It worked. She could sing it and it would be pretty and it would maybe be relevent. Impactful.
Good plan?
Yeah. Good pla-
And then a sound came in and she knew what it was but it was also so much different from the first two times it’d happened. They were meant to be words — spoken by a different voice, this time — but they didn’t sound like them. Maybe her hearing had gone out at this point? Maybe. She didn’t really need it, though; she already knew what the man was saying. More of her classmates — maybe Ashley, this time, maybe Galahad — had been killed just because they’d been told to. They were proving America right and showing that anyone, even the British, would fall against their might. It sucked. She hated that everyone’s lives had become this, that all they would be remembered for was the fact that they were British and that they died for their country.
...It didn’t really seem like a good idea to sing the song anymore.
Because that… that was something she’d said, right? When she’d been trying to pray earlier. This game had made her something she wasn’t. Made her care way more about her country than she otherwise would have. Like, she was happy she lived there and she knew that they weren’t the bad guys in the war against America but if she hadn’t ever been taken that was all she would’ve really thought about her homeland and because she had, she… she didn’t know. She found it fit to care so much about sending a message and it made her do things, made her become a different person. She’d twisted and she’d been radicalized and she’d… maybe hurt others — definitely hurt herself — with what she’d done.
So… no. Singing wasn’t a good idea. She didn’t want to die as the patriot she’d become. She…
...was tired. Sleepy. She still had so much capability left but she had no goal in sight. No reason to do anything. She’d done enough and she was happy with what she’d done now she knew that she was about to die. What else?
...Did she really need to do anything else?
Because maybe that would also help. Not doing anything more. She’d become someone so obsessed with doing and achieving things and that had maybe hurt, as well. Maybe if she just didn’t do anything more that would help. She could die as Michelle White, not… whatever number she’d been given. That made sense, right?
...Well, maybe. It was kinda hard to just act on that, though. The idea that she’d just lay here and die wasn’t something that her head wanted to go for. Maybe taking the time to think about it would lead to it happening all by itself but she just wanted to be okay with her last decision, so…
Maybe she could just take a nap? Maybe do something if she still had the energy to do something if or when she got up later? That seemed okay. She was on her bed and it seemed like it was night outside so maybe she could just take a nap, see if she was able to do anything when she got up later. Maybe that would, um, help. Napping was a totally her thing to do, so...
She closed her eyes. Laid down. Scrunched up her body and ignored all the pain of what she was going to pretend was just life in general.
Good plan?
She smiled. Yeah.
Good plan.
It was an odd dichotomy. She felt like she still had enough energy to do more and yet she knew that she would soon be closing her eyes for the final time. Perhaps she could leave the church, see if there was one last thing she could do, but… no. She’d done enough. Kian and Calista now had a place where they were in peace and she now had a place where she would soon find peace and she didn’t want to ruin that trying to do more than she reasonably could. She’d done enough and she’d received enough. There was maybe a sense that not dying would be preferable to this but ultimately she thought that maybe she could manage it. Live with death. Be happy with what she had.
But the fact remained. There was something she could still do. She still had enough left to do one more thing.
So what could it be? One last song, maybe? She felt like singing and she imagined that she could maybe send a message with her last words. There was admittedly one in her head already, one from one of her favourite musicals. A character — a man leaving everything because of the war or a woman who had lost everything because of the war, depending on whichever version — saying that they don’t care what country they may become a part of because they knew that no matter what, the borders of their country would always be around their heart. It fit, maybe. It gave memories of the other song she sang and that was kinda embarrassing (she was kinda happy she was about to die because now singing that and then immediately getting killed wouldn’t give her any cringey memories a year from now) but still. It worked. She could sing it and it would be pretty and it would maybe be relevent. Impactful.
Good plan?
Yeah. Good pla-
And then a sound came in and she knew what it was but it was also so much different from the first two times it’d happened. They were meant to be words — spoken by a different voice, this time — but they didn’t sound like them. Maybe her hearing had gone out at this point? Maybe. She didn’t really need it, though; she already knew what the man was saying. More of her classmates — maybe Ashley, this time, maybe Galahad — had been killed just because they’d been told to. They were proving America right and showing that anyone, even the British, would fall against their might. It sucked. She hated that everyone’s lives had become this, that all they would be remembered for was the fact that they were British and that they died for their country.
...It didn’t really seem like a good idea to sing the song anymore.
Because that… that was something she’d said, right? When she’d been trying to pray earlier. This game had made her something she wasn’t. Made her care way more about her country than she otherwise would have. Like, she was happy she lived there and she knew that they weren’t the bad guys in the war against America but if she hadn’t ever been taken that was all she would’ve really thought about her homeland and because she had, she… she didn’t know. She found it fit to care so much about sending a message and it made her do things, made her become a different person. She’d twisted and she’d been radicalized and she’d… maybe hurt others — definitely hurt herself — with what she’d done.
So… no. Singing wasn’t a good idea. She didn’t want to die as the patriot she’d become. She…
...was tired. Sleepy. She still had so much capability left but she had no goal in sight. No reason to do anything. She’d done enough and she was happy with what she’d done now she knew that she was about to die. What else?
...Did she really need to do anything else?
Because maybe that would also help. Not doing anything more. She’d become someone so obsessed with doing and achieving things and that had maybe hurt, as well. Maybe if she just didn’t do anything more that would help. She could die as Michelle White, not… whatever number she’d been given. That made sense, right?
...Well, maybe. It was kinda hard to just act on that, though. The idea that she’d just lay here and die wasn’t something that her head wanted to go for. Maybe taking the time to think about it would lead to it happening all by itself but she just wanted to be okay with her last decision, so…
Maybe she could just take a nap? Maybe do something if she still had the energy to do something if or when she got up later? That seemed okay. She was on her bed and it seemed like it was night outside so maybe she could just take a nap, see if she was able to do anything when she got up later. Maybe that would, um, help. Napping was a totally her thing to do, so...
She closed her eyes. Laid down. Scrunched up her body and ignored all the pain of what she was going to pretend was just life in general.
Good plan?
She smiled. Yeah.
Good plan.
F01: MICHELLE WHITE: DECEASED
10 STUDENTS REMAIN
10 STUDENTS REMAIN