((Nate Chauncey continued from To The Ashes Of Yesterday))
It was while she was sitting outside the corpse-filled shower building that she tried eating a ration bar for the first time.
Arriving at the showers had basically been random, and Nate wasn't sure how she'd gotten there based on the map. Directions were clearly not her forte. Of course, there was a girl who'd been shot and another, bloodless corpse inside, so Nate decided to sit outside and eat.
She wasn't so good at keeping track of her food intake, especially since she was drinking her water enough to fill herself up, but now she felt tired and a little out of it, which was a sign that she was calorie-deprived.
The rations of the bread and crackers were pretty unexciting, and Nate wasn't someone who ate bland things even when she was hungry. Bad habits, borne of a lifestyle where she could eat anything, anytime. She felt better after she'd finished eating some of those things, and ended up leaning against the side of the building, watching the clouds.
Little stories about whatever she thought about at any given passing cloud filled her time. The cloud like a bird like a swan was running from the big crab but forgot it could fly. There was a big moon but not a really big moon like the real moon but a crescent and it had a friendly little serpent friend. It was kind of nice out, the sky was almost not a blue with but purple and the sun was the shadow she didn't remember the clouds but bullies and...
Oh, she'd kind of dozed off. Nate rubbed her eyes and stretched. It was warmer out, cloudier and more overcast than she'd thought. It'd been nice to relax and daydream a bit, like she was home. She had been so worked up since yesterday that she'd been far more paranoid. She had no idea if it'd only been a couple of seconds, minutes, or hours. Time was hard to track. When she sat up her stomach wobbled so she had gotten hungry again.
Hence, looking at the protein bars. They kind of looked like little bricks of sand. It was heavy and dense and a little crumbly, so she didn't want to squeeze it too hard. She was hesitant to taste it; what if it was gross? A horribly silly thing to worry about, but a familiar fear, comfortable in it's mundane nature. Easier to be afraid of new food than gunshot wounds. And, back to pragmatism, she hadn't eaten any of these things yet, but her bread and crackers wouldn't last forever. Better get used to them.
She took a nibble. It tasted like slightly sweet bread dough. A little chewy. She took another, bigger bite. Very chewy. Nate grimaced and swallowed hard, taking a sip from some of her water before laying on her back, staring upward.
Bread And Cirruses
Open, midday
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MethodicalSlacker
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Inside the cuts and bruises on her hands she found a map that lead her where she had always wanted to go.
"Ah...haaah..."
[Kitty Gittschall continued from 'Cause We Are Young and We Are Sick.]
Gasping, she had gone through the brush and trees and plants all around with cuts on her knees, not making a sound as she saw day turn to night and night turn to day. She'd say how she felt if there was someone to speak to, the gas pipe leak of the voice in her head that piped up whenever she wasn't needed not counting as a person quite enough to make the headcount. There was a little cat inside her head batting her brain around like a ball of yarn, and she couldn't figure out how to reach inside to get it to cut it out without cutting out the important bits of her mind with her own unruly claws. The parts that kept her on her feet, moving and grooving and right and light on her toes when every single sound around meant snarling hounds at her heels.
When the sky opened up and the sun poked through, she knew from the voices coming from within the trees that she had lived to see another day. Cylinders firing, she sped along, taking in the fake light of the fifth planet and expelling the quiet night like exhaust, though unable to ignore that in the dark there was a new path onto which she had crossed.
To top it all off, she was still lost.
She also couldn't get a Grimes song out of her head, but that was entirely besides the point and, in all painfully admitted honesty, a pathetic thing to find herself concerning herself with. The song couldn't find its name in her head, which lead her to believe that it, eventually, it would leave, unable to attach itself to any label in the bent up filing cabinets in the part of her brain untouched by her feline phantasm still foraging in her frontal lobe for food.
"I close my eyes until I see," she coughed along as she stopped alongside the side of a lake.
"I don't need hands to touch me."
Eventually, she walked into a tree, and everything was sorted.
There was a gap between when she hit her head again and when she arrived at the building she knew housed the showers. Where the time went, she couldn't know, but she cared not to figure out the culprit behind the crime of her stolen hours. She wanted them gone to start with, to start. The only way she could hold that theft against anybody would be if they had planned to return the minutes later, though she wouldn't mind if they came back later for some seconds. Her mind turned to nourishment, and her stomach grumbled. She grumbled back, and took a look around.
Running her scraped up hands through her sand-dry hair until they came out the other side and caught the air, she saw that someone had already beaten her here.
They had food, too.
Kitty shambled over, wilted and wispy, and waved at her weakly. She meekly forced a smile, knowing that there was no way she would win the shouting match that would hatch inside her head if she didn't, and her parched lips moved to speak.
"Got anything," she rasped, "that you wouldn't mind saying goodbye to?"
"Ah...haaah..."
[Kitty Gittschall continued from 'Cause We Are Young and We Are Sick.]
Gasping, she had gone through the brush and trees and plants all around with cuts on her knees, not making a sound as she saw day turn to night and night turn to day. She'd say how she felt if there was someone to speak to, the gas pipe leak of the voice in her head that piped up whenever she wasn't needed not counting as a person quite enough to make the headcount. There was a little cat inside her head batting her brain around like a ball of yarn, and she couldn't figure out how to reach inside to get it to cut it out without cutting out the important bits of her mind with her own unruly claws. The parts that kept her on her feet, moving and grooving and right and light on her toes when every single sound around meant snarling hounds at her heels.
When the sky opened up and the sun poked through, she knew from the voices coming from within the trees that she had lived to see another day. Cylinders firing, she sped along, taking in the fake light of the fifth planet and expelling the quiet night like exhaust, though unable to ignore that in the dark there was a new path onto which she had crossed.
To top it all off, she was still lost.
She also couldn't get a Grimes song out of her head, but that was entirely besides the point and, in all painfully admitted honesty, a pathetic thing to find herself concerning herself with. The song couldn't find its name in her head, which lead her to believe that it, eventually, it would leave, unable to attach itself to any label in the bent up filing cabinets in the part of her brain untouched by her feline phantasm still foraging in her frontal lobe for food.
"I close my eyes until I see," she coughed along as she stopped alongside the side of a lake.
"I don't need hands to touch me."
Eventually, she walked into a tree, and everything was sorted.
There was a gap between when she hit her head again and when she arrived at the building she knew housed the showers. Where the time went, she couldn't know, but she cared not to figure out the culprit behind the crime of her stolen hours. She wanted them gone to start with, to start. The only way she could hold that theft against anybody would be if they had planned to return the minutes later, though she wouldn't mind if they came back later for some seconds. Her mind turned to nourishment, and her stomach grumbled. She grumbled back, and took a look around.
Running her scraped up hands through her sand-dry hair until they came out the other side and caught the air, she saw that someone had already beaten her here.
They had food, too.
Kitty shambled over, wilted and wispy, and waved at her weakly. She meekly forced a smile, knowing that there was no way she would win the shouting match that would hatch inside her head if she didn't, and her parched lips moved to speak.
"Got anything," she rasped, "that you wouldn't mind saying goodbye to?"
- 
- A corpse called out.
The raspy sound had been more distinct to Nate than days ago, on the beach. She was more aware, it seemed, of changes, hazards. Nate still hadn't decided if that was good or not. Probably not. But probably.
She sat up, looked over, and saw the walking dead. And frankly, she'd almost seen the girl as an undead for a moment; pallid, bruised face, cracked lips and tangled hair, bulgy eyes and uneven gait. But she smiled, and pained as it was, it made Nate grimace as she stood, awkwardly, kneeling to drop her unfinished bar into the pack and then hefting her bag into her arms.
The poor thing was almost the same height as Nate, but somehow more gaunt and sickly than Nate at her worst. The blue hair was familiar...Nate knew her. Somewhere.
"I have food bars and water." She glanced around, the broken silence unsettling. "Do you need some?" Dumb question. Nate lowered her gaze. "I guess so. Uh, first aid?" She felt really uncomfortable, talking to someone in such poor health.
The raspy sound had been more distinct to Nate than days ago, on the beach. She was more aware, it seemed, of changes, hazards. Nate still hadn't decided if that was good or not. Probably not. But probably.
She sat up, looked over, and saw the walking dead. And frankly, she'd almost seen the girl as an undead for a moment; pallid, bruised face, cracked lips and tangled hair, bulgy eyes and uneven gait. But she smiled, and pained as it was, it made Nate grimace as she stood, awkwardly, kneeling to drop her unfinished bar into the pack and then hefting her bag into her arms.
The poor thing was almost the same height as Nate, but somehow more gaunt and sickly than Nate at her worst. The blue hair was familiar...Nate knew her. Somewhere.
"I have food bars and water." She glanced around, the broken silence unsettling. "Do you need some?" Dumb question. Nate lowered her gaze. "I guess so. Uh, first aid?" She felt really uncomfortable, talking to someone in such poor health.
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MethodicalSlacker
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"I'm not really hurting," Kitty said, coughing into her cracked up hands, "I'm just tired."
Was there a name to this face in this nameless place? Kitty couldn't tell if she'd even seen this girl, still so fit and full after all this time, at school before, and, what's more, she couldn't even tell if the girl's swirl of a face read with an expression of recognition or revulsion or compulsion to run away. Things weren't the easiest to see, see. She even ran into a tree! Kitty knew klutzy kept crawling back, but she didn't think she would sink so low as to take a blow from a goddamn tree.
"Ain't that just pathetic?" she said out-loud.
She smirked, and a soft sounding sigh came slipping out of her smile.
There was something she was missing. It had up and left, this past day, and she was only just now starting to realize how dearly she had missed it. Telling her what to do and how to do it wasn't even that bad, when all that amounted to was behaving like a normal human being. Why had it abandoned her? Maybe it had moved into someone else's head, someone healthier and more receptive to an inside voice. Perhaps that person found her presence comforting, and kept her around without shouting her down. Maybe that person didn't forget her name. How many times had Seb said Kitty's name? How many times had Kitty said her own name?
"I'm absolutely Parched," Kitty added with a woozy wink, "by the way. Nice to meet you."
The voice would have kept Kitty from saying that stupid, garbled nonsense. The voice would have made it so that Kitty wouldn't have to force a sweet honeysuckle chuckle and then, in a fleeting moment of lucidity, slap herself in the face. The voice would have kept her from making a fool of herself.
Kitty missed her.
Was there a name to this face in this nameless place? Kitty couldn't tell if she'd even seen this girl, still so fit and full after all this time, at school before, and, what's more, she couldn't even tell if the girl's swirl of a face read with an expression of recognition or revulsion or compulsion to run away. Things weren't the easiest to see, see. She even ran into a tree! Kitty knew klutzy kept crawling back, but she didn't think she would sink so low as to take a blow from a goddamn tree.
"Ain't that just pathetic?" she said out-loud.
She smirked, and a soft sounding sigh came slipping out of her smile.
There was something she was missing. It had up and left, this past day, and she was only just now starting to realize how dearly she had missed it. Telling her what to do and how to do it wasn't even that bad, when all that amounted to was behaving like a normal human being. Why had it abandoned her? Maybe it had moved into someone else's head, someone healthier and more receptive to an inside voice. Perhaps that person found her presence comforting, and kept her around without shouting her down. Maybe that person didn't forget her name. How many times had Seb said Kitty's name? How many times had Kitty said her own name?
"I'm absolutely Parched," Kitty added with a woozy wink, "by the way. Nice to meet you."
The voice would have kept Kitty from saying that stupid, garbled nonsense. The voice would have made it so that Kitty wouldn't have to force a sweet honeysuckle chuckle and then, in a fleeting moment of lucidity, slap herself in the face. The voice would have kept her from making a fool of herself.
Kitty missed her.
There was something wrong with this girl. Nate shrugged her shoulders and lowered her head as the visitor babbled, only half-coherent, and withdrew from her antics.
She knelt, busying herself by slowly searching her bag for a bit longer than necessary. She didn't seem dangerous, but Nate was unnerved nonetheless. A loud drunk in a refined restaurant, or a much older woman at a little girl's birthday party, whatever threat they posed was distorted by the abnormality of it.
Nate wasn't entirely normal, but she kept to herself. Putting one's weirdness out there was unsettling for the people around you. She was unobtrusive, ideally. Then again, who was she to judge someone slipping here? She lifted a food ration bar and set it next to her in the grass, still in its wrapper. Was she going to do something?
Feeding the poor girl was easy and probably wouldn't risk herself in the long run, but what else did Nate have to offer? She was no doctor, protector, or caretaker. She didn't even know why she was acting like that. Delirium could be from mental or physical illness, and both were plausible given the circumstances. Trauma-induced insanity, or some kind of fever or infection. She had terribly try skin. Then again, she could be dehydrated. How was Nate to tell?
Nate plucked a full water bottle out with a small grunt, retrieved the food bar, and stood up, holding them out to her. She paused for a couple moments. "Uh, you're not well, I think." Nate's face inflamed and she forced herself to look the girl in the eyes, or at least the general facial area. "Do you have a fever, or injury, or have you...?" The unspoken question hung insidiously in the air.
She knelt, busying herself by slowly searching her bag for a bit longer than necessary. She didn't seem dangerous, but Nate was unnerved nonetheless. A loud drunk in a refined restaurant, or a much older woman at a little girl's birthday party, whatever threat they posed was distorted by the abnormality of it.
Nate wasn't entirely normal, but she kept to herself. Putting one's weirdness out there was unsettling for the people around you. She was unobtrusive, ideally. Then again, who was she to judge someone slipping here? She lifted a food ration bar and set it next to her in the grass, still in its wrapper. Was she going to do something?
Feeding the poor girl was easy and probably wouldn't risk herself in the long run, but what else did Nate have to offer? She was no doctor, protector, or caretaker. She didn't even know why she was acting like that. Delirium could be from mental or physical illness, and both were plausible given the circumstances. Trauma-induced insanity, or some kind of fever or infection. She had terribly try skin. Then again, she could be dehydrated. How was Nate to tell?
Nate plucked a full water bottle out with a small grunt, retrieved the food bar, and stood up, holding them out to her. She paused for a couple moments. "Uh, you're not well, I think." Nate's face inflamed and she forced herself to look the girl in the eyes, or at least the general facial area. "Do you have a fever, or injury, or have you...?" The unspoken question hung insidiously in the air.
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MethodicalSlacker
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Kitty stared for a few moments at the food bar and the water. Were these really for her? Were they? Was the girl sure that she wanted to let these go? Moving slow, Kitty raised her hands, cutting through the air like sand, sandbags weighing them down, gripping the rations in truly emaciated fashion, and took them up into her own arms, careful to do no harm with her sharp nails to the water bottle, not to tear into the wrapping of the bar, in her grasp yet still so far from her lips. She needed to savor this. Things went quiet inside her mind, and suddenly the earth felt like it had become frail in kind.
"Thank you," Kitty said, still looking at the food and water in her arms. She stuffed the bar in her pocket, screwed off the cap, opened the water bottle up, and shakily brought it up to her mouth, tilting her head back, and let the water cascade down the back of her throat, a river in miniature, filling her with life.
She brought the bottle back down. The level had barely budged past the cap line. She smiled, and brought it back up and around for another swig. Now, the water was down a little further, barely pushing past three quarters full. Screwing the cap back on, she hoped that she didn't cry and leave herself dry again. She tried to look at her savior, but couldn't meet her eyes, though she tried.
"Thank you," Kitty mumbled again, quieter, and walked over to the edge of the building, sitting down in the grass with her back against the wall.
"I mean it."
Her senses were coming back to her.
"Thank you."
"Thank you," Kitty said, still looking at the food and water in her arms. She stuffed the bar in her pocket, screwed off the cap, opened the water bottle up, and shakily brought it up to her mouth, tilting her head back, and let the water cascade down the back of her throat, a river in miniature, filling her with life.
She brought the bottle back down. The level had barely budged past the cap line. She smiled, and brought it back up and around for another swig. Now, the water was down a little further, barely pushing past three quarters full. Screwing the cap back on, she hoped that she didn't cry and leave herself dry again. She tried to look at her savior, but couldn't meet her eyes, though she tried.
"Thank you," Kitty mumbled again, quieter, and walked over to the edge of the building, sitting down in the grass with her back against the wall.
"I mean it."
Her senses were coming back to her.
"Thank you."
Tentatively, Nate smiled back at the girl. Dehydration and exhaustion sounded like a horrible combination, so hopefully as meager as they were the spared provisions would be of use to her. In this place, anything you could get that helped you keep going was critical.
Until when, though? The rules of the 'game' were undeniable, and as far as Nate knew there was only one endgame here. Barring some kind of miraculous intervention by rescuers, at least one of her and her companion of the moment would be dead within a few days. The first incident had lasted less than a week, if she recalled.
How long had they been here? The ravine with the pickaxe, and the beach and the suspicious people, one of whom was dead now, that had really only been a single day? She'd explored the woods and the awful tunnel alone the day after, then found the cabin and seen the burning warehouse the third day. Then today she'd been at the burned-out building and now she was here.
Four days. It felt like an eternity, or no time at all. Nate crouched at her bag again, reorganizing it and packing everything up once more. The dull copper knife she'd found was still here. She'd forgotten it until she brushed against the hilt, caught a glimpse of the blood-stained blade. She considered it, tried to force the blade into a belt-loop on her jeans, and felt the tear of fabric as it cut through.
"Crap." She muttered, glancing over at Kitty--that's who she was, Kitty, artistic girl at school--and smiled weakly, returning her gaze to her pack as she zipped it shut and put the knife into her hoodie's from pocket instead.
She stood up. "Are you going to be okay?" She said quietly. Then she swallowed, and added, "You can stay and I'll leave if you like." Another pause. "Or not. I don't mind."
Until when, though? The rules of the 'game' were undeniable, and as far as Nate knew there was only one endgame here. Barring some kind of miraculous intervention by rescuers, at least one of her and her companion of the moment would be dead within a few days. The first incident had lasted less than a week, if she recalled.
How long had they been here? The ravine with the pickaxe, and the beach and the suspicious people, one of whom was dead now, that had really only been a single day? She'd explored the woods and the awful tunnel alone the day after, then found the cabin and seen the burning warehouse the third day. Then today she'd been at the burned-out building and now she was here.
Four days. It felt like an eternity, or no time at all. Nate crouched at her bag again, reorganizing it and packing everything up once more. The dull copper knife she'd found was still here. She'd forgotten it until she brushed against the hilt, caught a glimpse of the blood-stained blade. She considered it, tried to force the blade into a belt-loop on her jeans, and felt the tear of fabric as it cut through.
"Crap." She muttered, glancing over at Kitty--that's who she was, Kitty, artistic girl at school--and smiled weakly, returning her gaze to her pack as she zipped it shut and put the knife into her hoodie's from pocket instead.
She stood up. "Are you going to be okay?" She said quietly. Then she swallowed, and added, "You can stay and I'll leave if you like." Another pause. "Or not. I don't mind."
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MethodicalSlacker
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"You can stay,"
It took a moment for her to recognize the words as belonging to her. They drifted from her mouth unannounced, slipping through the bars of their prison of teeth and out into the open air. It scared her how they didn't sound like her own, and she fought to keep her hands by her sides and not flying out into the nothing to grab her stunted syllables and stuff them back in her mouth.
"You should definitely stay," she continued, "I don't know if I'm quite well yet, and I'm not sure that..."
Her hands held to her head, hovering through her hair, Kitty realized she couldn't help herself. Every word that leaped from her lecherous liar mouth lent itself to co-dependence, not to Kitty investigating the showers on her own. Was it that she truly wanted the other one to stay? If it was her call to make and her words to say, she'd wish her away, but things weren't playing out that way.
It seemed to Kitty that her senses had returned, but in the process, she had lost all sensibility.
"I'm not sure that I'll make it, on my own..." Kitty half-whispered, weakly lifting her water bottle to her mouth.
It took a moment for her to recognize the words as belonging to her. They drifted from her mouth unannounced, slipping through the bars of their prison of teeth and out into the open air. It scared her how they didn't sound like her own, and she fought to keep her hands by her sides and not flying out into the nothing to grab her stunted syllables and stuff them back in her mouth.
"You should definitely stay," she continued, "I don't know if I'm quite well yet, and I'm not sure that..."
Her hands held to her head, hovering through her hair, Kitty realized she couldn't help herself. Every word that leaped from her lecherous liar mouth lent itself to co-dependence, not to Kitty investigating the showers on her own. Was it that she truly wanted the other one to stay? If it was her call to make and her words to say, she'd wish her away, but things weren't playing out that way.
It seemed to Kitty that her senses had returned, but in the process, she had lost all sensibility.
"I'm not sure that I'll make it, on my own..." Kitty half-whispered, weakly lifting her water bottle to her mouth.
The more Kitty talked, the worse Nate felt for her. She hadn't had it easy, exactly, but it was uncomfortable to see someone in such distress.
"That's fine. We can stay here together."
Nate wasn't sure what prompted that response. Kitty seemed conflicted about it herself, and Nate hadn't been hoping to socialize anytime soon. Still, it might be nice to have someone to be with, if only to be alone and isolated together.
That made sense. That was her life, physically surrounded by people but mentally elsewhere. She didn't need to converse to hang out, really, so maybe it might be nice to try that here.
"I'm Nate." She cleared her throat. "In case you didn't know. Kitty, right? That's you?" She smiled, tentatively. Hopefully things would be okay here. What 'okay' really meant was up for debate. And honestly? That debate was one Nate was going to forfeit right off the bat.
The day slid by into night, into morning. There wasn't much to say or do. Nate watched the sky, watched Kitty, and dreamed awake and asleep. When they awoke to the danger declaration, the vaguely familiar beeping quickly drove Nate away from the small oasis of calm she'd found for less than 24 hours.
She didn't know if she'd ever reach another one.
((Nate Chauncey continued in No Such Way To Say Goodbye))
"That's fine. We can stay here together."
Nate wasn't sure what prompted that response. Kitty seemed conflicted about it herself, and Nate hadn't been hoping to socialize anytime soon. Still, it might be nice to have someone to be with, if only to be alone and isolated together.
That made sense. That was her life, physically surrounded by people but mentally elsewhere. She didn't need to converse to hang out, really, so maybe it might be nice to try that here.
"I'm Nate." She cleared her throat. "In case you didn't know. Kitty, right? That's you?" She smiled, tentatively. Hopefully things would be okay here. What 'okay' really meant was up for debate. And honestly? That debate was one Nate was going to forfeit right off the bat.
The day slid by into night, into morning. There wasn't much to say or do. Nate watched the sky, watched Kitty, and dreamed awake and asleep. When they awoke to the danger declaration, the vaguely familiar beeping quickly drove Nate away from the small oasis of calm she'd found for less than 24 hours.
She didn't know if she'd ever reach another one.
((Nate Chauncey continued in No Such Way To Say Goodbye))
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MethodicalSlacker
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"We can stay here together," Kitty echoed, sinking back into her slump. Together. Forever. Good prospects, at the very least. A patchwork quilt of air enveloped her. Now, she could rest easy. She didn't even need to look inside of the shower building. She could wait on the outside, and in this golden land she could find her peace. Water touched her lips again. Nate - that was her name - already knew Kitty's moniker, to her shame. She didn't feel like Kitty anymore, truly, and the unruly clatter of syllables that made up what she was called by felt alien to her ears. Maybe eventually she'd figure out something better to go by. She could tell she'd have lots of time to idly whittle away with Nate.
"Kitty, for now," she decided to say. She could find a good name to change it to later, since fatigue was having its way with her body.
A few moments later, she was asleep, disturbing the peace with loud, satisfied snoring.
When she woke up, the stars were out. A polka dotted blanket covering the Earth, like a wall of eyes staring down at everything around her except for her, and in that moment she felt invincible. She wanted to stand. Reaching out toward the outer wall of the shower building, she moved to brace herself and lift herself up, but found she needed no such assistance. Looking down at herself, and up at the sky, she felt like nothing. Weightless, she walked over towards Nate and saw that she was asleep. Kitty smiled down at her, and took the flashlight from her bag. Moving away, she headed for the entrance to the shower building.
When she stepped inside and heard how small the sound her feet made against the floor was, she relaxed. She didn't have to be weightless any longer. Flicking the light on, she waved the beam around. There was a body, there, in the back. Kitty walked over to it to investigate how it had died. A bullet hole, right through its heart. She gazed on it sadly, and folded its arms across its chest to cover the wound. Her bag was close to her body, but it was somewhat desolate. There was blood all over the place, too. Kitty wouldn't mind getting some on herself - she was coated in places with a thin layer of the stuff, though it was dried - but she didn't want Nate to know she had been snooping.
She looked around the different shower cubicles, finding it solemnly ironic that a place of cleanliness had sunken into such a state of disrepair. One of the ones she opened up had a body in it. This one puzzled Kitty, for a number of reasons. For the first, there wasn't a clear cause of death apart from a pretty nasty bump on her head, and for the other, that someone so pretty could die so humbly. She tended to peg the pretty and popular for flashy, unsightly deaths, ones you couldn't help but stare at. Aaron's death was like that, tragic and preventable. Seb's death was sudden and undeserved. Kasumi's was unavoidable. Shaking the thoughts out of her head, Kitty searched around for the girl's bag in the stalls, certain that somehow it had to not have been savagely scavenged or slipped out of the showers. It took only a bit of seeking for her to stumble upon it, only slightly depleted, in a corner of the room away from the shower-heads. She scooped it up in her arms and went outside.
Under the covers of stars, she stepped out and walked toward the spot that Nate had been sleeping. She gave Nate the flashlight back, and fell asleep with the slightly damp bag in her arms.
This time, she drifted into dreams with a smile on her face.
When the announcements came on and told her that they were in a danger zone, Kitty panicked. To start with, there was a loud beeping around her neck. The mysterious weight on her chest wasn't helping matters. Where had it come from, anyway? She grappled with it for a moment and pushed it off of her, only to look up and see Nate walking away.
"W-wait up!" she shouted, and started coughing violently. In between fits of coughing, she managed to hoist the bag up onto her shoulder and run after her new friend.
That's what they were, right? Friends? So why had Nate left her?
Soon enough, all thoughts were replaced with relief as she cleared the beeping. Now, there wasn't much to do but follow Nate to wherever it was that she went.
Kitty looked back at the map of cuts and bruises traced in her hands.
It was unreadable.
[Kitty Gittschall continued in She's the girl from the video?]
"Kitty, for now," she decided to say. She could find a good name to change it to later, since fatigue was having its way with her body.
A few moments later, she was asleep, disturbing the peace with loud, satisfied snoring.
When she woke up, the stars were out. A polka dotted blanket covering the Earth, like a wall of eyes staring down at everything around her except for her, and in that moment she felt invincible. She wanted to stand. Reaching out toward the outer wall of the shower building, she moved to brace herself and lift herself up, but found she needed no such assistance. Looking down at herself, and up at the sky, she felt like nothing. Weightless, she walked over towards Nate and saw that she was asleep. Kitty smiled down at her, and took the flashlight from her bag. Moving away, she headed for the entrance to the shower building.
When she stepped inside and heard how small the sound her feet made against the floor was, she relaxed. She didn't have to be weightless any longer. Flicking the light on, she waved the beam around. There was a body, there, in the back. Kitty walked over to it to investigate how it had died. A bullet hole, right through its heart. She gazed on it sadly, and folded its arms across its chest to cover the wound. Her bag was close to her body, but it was somewhat desolate. There was blood all over the place, too. Kitty wouldn't mind getting some on herself - she was coated in places with a thin layer of the stuff, though it was dried - but she didn't want Nate to know she had been snooping.
She looked around the different shower cubicles, finding it solemnly ironic that a place of cleanliness had sunken into such a state of disrepair. One of the ones she opened up had a body in it. This one puzzled Kitty, for a number of reasons. For the first, there wasn't a clear cause of death apart from a pretty nasty bump on her head, and for the other, that someone so pretty could die so humbly. She tended to peg the pretty and popular for flashy, unsightly deaths, ones you couldn't help but stare at. Aaron's death was like that, tragic and preventable. Seb's death was sudden and undeserved. Kasumi's was unavoidable. Shaking the thoughts out of her head, Kitty searched around for the girl's bag in the stalls, certain that somehow it had to not have been savagely scavenged or slipped out of the showers. It took only a bit of seeking for her to stumble upon it, only slightly depleted, in a corner of the room away from the shower-heads. She scooped it up in her arms and went outside.
Under the covers of stars, she stepped out and walked toward the spot that Nate had been sleeping. She gave Nate the flashlight back, and fell asleep with the slightly damp bag in her arms.
This time, she drifted into dreams with a smile on her face.
When the announcements came on and told her that they were in a danger zone, Kitty panicked. To start with, there was a loud beeping around her neck. The mysterious weight on her chest wasn't helping matters. Where had it come from, anyway? She grappled with it for a moment and pushed it off of her, only to look up and see Nate walking away.
"W-wait up!" she shouted, and started coughing violently. In between fits of coughing, she managed to hoist the bag up onto her shoulder and run after her new friend.
That's what they were, right? Friends? So why had Nate left her?
Soon enough, all thoughts were replaced with relief as she cleared the beeping. Now, there wasn't much to do but follow Nate to wherever it was that she went.
Kitty looked back at the map of cuts and bruises traced in her hands.
It was unreadable.
[Kitty Gittschall continued in She's the girl from the video?]