((Miranda Millers continued from Cause We Are Young and We Are Sick))
Miranda had left math class feeling unwell.
The teacher had decided to go into this long spiel about graduation and growing up at the end of class, and it… struck a nerve. She couldn’t explain it, but the way he told everyone to, essentially, man up, do the work, or else they won’t succeed didn’t sit well. Throughout lunch, she’d been quiet. Of course, she had people to sit with, people to talk to, but the entire time, there was this feeling of dread. Like if she failed a test, that’d be the end of her. She knew what it was like to fail at something, but it felt like she truly didn’t understand until now. She knew how upset at her Dad would be if she didn’t do well enough in class, which was more often than she’d like. Maybe it was another reminder of… how good she wasn’t.
So she tried to laugh at all the jokes her friends made, tried to share gossip, tried to make fun of some of the less popular kids. But Miranda knew, in the back of her head. Even as she smiled, even as she laughed, that fear was there.
She’d left lunch still with a smile, but she still dreaded the idea of going back to class. It felt like she was on edge. She had P.E. the next period, though, and she’d hoped that maybe, just maybe, doing something physical would keep her mind off whatever she’s feeling.
It didn’t work. She overheard something in the locker room. It wasn’t about her, but she knew what it meant. Just that one word was enough. It was a word she’d used several times herself, but now, it had a new meaning. Now that she understood some stuff about her, now she had to deal with how she felt, it felt less like something she’d use casually and more like a slap to the face.
But Miranda kept smiling. Even as she felt worse, even as her legs started to shake.
She didn’t realize how bad everything made her feel once she was in the gymnasium. Today was dodgeball, and normally she’d enjoy hitting people with foam balls. But, something felt different. Like her body didn’t belong to her, like she couldn’t possibly enjoy what was happening in front of her.
Eventually, she felt her heart pound. It didn’t feel like exertion. What her teacher said, what her classmate said, it kept drifting inside her head like a mold that wouldn’t go away. Eventually, she felt her head spin, and she excused herself. She didn’t even make it to the bathroom, and instead, she threw up into the trash can. Miranda looked around, feeling her heart pound more and more. What if someone had seen her like this? They’d think she was a freak, or that she was crazy.
She hated it, but she did the only thing she could think of. Miranda went to the nurses’ office. She didn’t tell them about what she heard, just that she’d thrown up and her heart was pounding and that she was dizzy.
“Anxiety,” they told her.
It wasn’t a new feeling. Miranda knew what it felt like, but she wondered if it made her crazy if she felt it like this. But, she was allowed to go home early since she wasn’t feeling good. She remembered how disgusted she felt when they tried to get her to calm down, and that they’d tell her parents. Especially that last one. She couldn’t imagine how they’d react.
So, when she got home, she still felt unease. She knew she had to calm down a bit, but she didn’t know how. Games? No, that didn’t sound appealing. Watching something didn’t, either. Maybe she could take a shower, or something. Did that make her dumb, or broken? That she had to go home early because, what, a few words? She knew it was stupid.
Eventually, an hour later, her phone rang. Miranda snatched it from the coffee table in the rec room, and sat down on the sofa.
“Hey?”
….
“Oh, yeah. I got a bug..”
….
“Yeah… it sucked, you know? I left because I threw up.”
….
“No, no, they sent in a note saying I had to leave early. I didn’t ditch.”
….
Laughter.
“Ha, yeah… she is kind of a slut.”
….
“Yeah, I’m thinking about going. I don’t know why we still have it, since it’s probably going to like, burst into flames or something.”
….
“Monster Squad? What is that, even?”
….
“Sounds stupid. But hey, maybe I’ll warm up to the idea in a few weeks.”
….
“Okay, um… still not feeling well, so I’ll call you back, okay?”
….
“See you.”
Miranda hung up, and right away, the forced smile she had on her face slid off. She placed her phone back on the coffee table, and rubbed her face with both hands. She only felt marginally better. Mom knew what had happened, but she knew how Dad would react once he found out.
Eventually, she went back into her room. Mom always told her she needed to decorate it a bit more, but it still seemed a little bare. She couldn’t decide on how the room would look. Sometimes decorations went up, only to come down. So, it’d ended up looking spartan. Maybe someday she’ll settle on something. But for now…
Miranda pulled out a red swimsuit from her closet.
A moment later, and she was in her family’s pool. It was a thing she and her mom used more often, and for right now, maybe a swim would do.
But she couldn’t swim. She didn’t feel like it.
Instead, she remained curled up on the steps to the shallow end. Her chestnut brown hair floated around her in the water like seaweed.
Then, like a crashing thought, her hair became red streaks leaking from two broken bodies floating in the sea.
And Miranda opened her eyes, snapping back into the present.
Everyone knew what happened with Sebastien and Kasumi now.
It was a given fact that they’d know. He’d always announce what happened and when. Maybe it was just to give everyone an idea of what was going on, maybe it was to stoke paranoia. Who the hell knows? All she knew was that they’d announced what happened. She’d remembered how they described it. It was true that Kasumi died due to infection, but they’d called what happened with Sebastien “shutting him up.” That was technically what happened, but it was a little more complex.
God, she still remembered what he said. What Wendy and Scarlett said. Maybe she shouldn’t have been so… yeah.
But she felt like she shouldn’t feel too bad for herself. She wasn’t the one dead. Sure, it was tempting to make it into a “woe-is-me” type thing. But thing is, she was alive, and they weren’t. Maybe it was good to feel bad for them, and not herself.
Jasmine also died, too. She couldn’t help but think about Brigid and Chris. If she didn’t, the pain in her leg would remind her. It was funny to think about how she killed Jasmine. Miranda and Jasmine were… friends, she guessed. Usually they’d just gossip. Maybe they were just using each other. It was something that wasn’t spoken, but you could still feel it. Something they both knew deep down. It sounded gross when she put it like that, but there you have it. She knew that Jasmine would have been a threat to her, but even then…
It still hurt.
Something still hurt about Saachi as well. It meant she was a threat. Would you knock her down, do a repeat of Sebastien?
…
Yes.
Miranda needed a break. It was getting dark out, and the pain in her leg wasn’t helping any. She needed to sit down, rest. Anything.
It’d been warm out, but it’d gotten cooler in the day. She’d looked at her map a few times. Her goal was still to get to the warehouse, but she’d messed up a few times. She wasn’t making any progress getting there. God, she didn’t think she was that directionally challenged. But maybe the pain in her leg was making her delirious or something.
Miranda thought of Sebastien for a moment, her skin crawling, before taking a few more steps. Try to stay focused.
Somewhere nearby, she saw a shack alongside what appeared to be a lake or something. Miranda limped towards it, looking it over.
She sighed.
It was better than sleeping on the ground, like the past few nights.
Miranda went past some boats, only to smell something… foul. She knew what it was, but she wasn’t sure who it was. Reluctantly, she turned her head, then, walked over. She took out the tire iron, and gave Alba a gentle poke.
He didn’t respond.
Of course he wouldn’t.
She’d stared at him for a few moments. It’d looked like someone had attacked him with a blade or something. Saachi? Her skin crawled.
She remembered Alba. He was a lot like Richard. He got kicked off the football team because he got into an argument with a coach. She’d remembered telling everyone about it.
Miranda looked for a few moments, before looking away.
The inside of the shed wasn’t perfect, but it was okay, she guessed. She could still smell the dead bodies outside, but it wasn’t as bad. Maybe she was just getting used to it. Maybe the smell of dirt somehow overpowered it.
Miranda had once again set the crinkly emergency blanket down on the floor, so that she wouldn’t be laying on it directly. It still was uncomfortable, but it was something. At least it was a roof. There were other boats in here, too, more intact. Trickles of dusk filtered in through cracks and a dirty glass window.
Again, wasn’t perfect, but it was a place.
Her bag had gotten heavy. She had more food after she’d emptied out Sebastien’s. Food was good. She had no idea how long she was going to be here, or if there would ever be a risk of food and water running out. Still, her back ached. All the more reason to rest.
After she’d left the pits, some time later, perhaps an hour or two, she’d emptied it and left it nearby. It always felt weird to do that. Like she’d find some shocking truth of who someone was, or something like… god, severed body parts or something. Or maybe it was rifling through something that used to belong to someone else?
It was funny, because, after killing someone, getting into fights with people, and sitting in a filthy shed, what Miranda was thinking about now was video games. Well, a specific game.
Back home, she had followed the development of a game called Yandere Simulator. It sounded interesting, even if there were aspects she found… skeevy. Basically, you play an anime schoolgirl who has a crush on someone. However, other girls have a crush on the same person. Your goal is to “eliminate” the competition. There are plenty of ways to do this, from bullying, to pairing the girl up with someone else, to even making an agreement with that girl that she wouldn’t ask them out. However, the most famous option, and, to be frank, the one that everyone went with, was to simply kill the girl. It was messed-up, looking back, but it was in the game. However, it was supposed to be pretty difficult to do so. You have to drag the body to dispose of it, but you also have to make sure there are no witnesses, the blood is cleaned up, and that you’ll get off scott-free if the cops are called. The point was, you could commit murder, but it wasn’t supposed to be easy.
It was funny. She’d played other games, too. Many of them featured the player killing something or someone. First person shooters? Yeah, you shoot someone in the head. Fighting games? Many were tame, but then you have Mortal Kombat. RPGs were full of killing monsters.
The thing was, she thought it’d be incredibly difficult to replicate the feeling of panic, listening to your victim get angry, the gun barking and recoiling in your hand, seeing someone’s face get smashed in, or hearing someone watching the whole thing taunt you. No game could honestly get across how both easy and difficult it was to kill someone. No, it was… different.
It was a weird thing to think about, she knew.
Miranda had left the first aid kit nearby. She’d taken some aspirin, but she still wasn’t sure if that was what her leg needed. She’d ask Sebastien if she could.
She blew a strand of hair that came loose away from her face, and a new thought came by. Slowly, she crawled over, and rummaged through it. She’d seen it before, so it had to have been here-
She found it.
Miranda pulled out a pair of small scissors. She stared at them, and slowly, removed her hairband. She placed herself on her knees.
But she stopped herself for a moment.
Another funny thought. Maybe it was deja vu. Did she ever cut her hair before? Maybe, when she was younger. It was weird to think that. But maybe, she had a good idea in mind.
Video Game Violence
Late Day 4; open
Miranda still felt odd about cutting her hair.
She knew why she did it, of course. Long hair was a liability. It got dirty easily. Already hers had started to get coated in dirt and grease. Someone could also grab it if they wanted to. It would be a quick and easy way to get a hold on someone, which would be helped by the sudden jolt of pain surprising them enough. Also, it wasn’t worth constantly trying to blow hair out of your face while you’re trying to fight someone. It was practical, simple as that. It was the same with the dress; you could always get another dress or grow out your hair, but you could never undo your death.
And yet, that feeling of deja vu remained, even after she’d removed her hairband, even after she cut her hair to her ears, even after she was holding a ball of chestnut brown hair in her lap. Matching strands of hair covered her collarbone and shoulders. It’d looked a bit uneven, but it would do. It was clean, and out of the way, and nothing that anyone could grab.
The unease was still there, though.
And as the sky grew darker, she thought about how most of the day had been quiet otherwise. She hadn’t seen much of other people, come to think of it. It was kind of a good thing, but it didn’t improve her mood any. Miranda had stepped outside for a breather, just for a quick moment. She kept her tire iron nearby, just in case. The air was cool against her skin, and the only light was the moon waning. Miranda considered the fact that even if someone could see her, they could shoot her. So, she sat down along the shoreline. She’d moved away from the bodies, but the smell still distantly hovered in the air.
It was another thing to think about, but she had plenty of time to think today. But looking back, most of her life was pretty damn fake.
She spent most of it… pretending. Fake smiles, fake insults, fake boyfriends, fake interests. Fake friends. Even if no one outright stated it, she knew that her “friendship” with Jasmine was just them using each other. Many of her friends were the same, as well. Maybe she did love them after all. But, the truth was, she’d been hiding behind a fake Miranda. She acted that way, because… well, she knew she had to impress people. She’d admired… no, she envied people like Jasmine, and Eris, and Saachi, and who knows who else. She didn’t have much to her, but she knew she could at least try. But there were people smarter than her, more athletic than her, more charismatic than her. So, she spent much of her life trying to act like she had it. Her friends might have been just a list of people to impress.
For a moment, Miranda wondered. Did they realize that as well? She tried to look back. Maybe her mask was weaker, or stronger, than she expected.
None of that mattered, though. It was no longer important to pretend, she realized. In a way, it was a sense of freedom.
A few more minutes, and Miranda went back inside.
The familiar screeching hum played, followed by the familiar words.
"Good morning, children!"
And yet, each and every damn time, Miranda still flinched. She could probably get used to a lot of things over time, but for some reason that still got to her. This time, though, she’d started sipping away at a water bottle after packing up her things. Miranda frowned, but she continued listening.
… Yeah. Saachi really was on the prowl. Alba, that douche, had been taken out by her. She had no idea what the hell happened with Zubin and Ramona, but for some reason it got a sexual description. It was kind of funny, really, she’d talked to Ramona at Ulta a while back, and she’d ran into Zubin a few days ago. Then, there was Sophie, who’d killed again. Clio. She guessed she was fond of Clio.
Another thing that was funny to bring up, too: Brigid had died, too, just after she killed Jasmine. That’s kind of how things worked, she realized. Maybe it was cynical, but the island had a way of evening things out.
Announcement over. Watch out for Bunny Barlowe and Saachi Nidal, and-
"Now, the Shipping Yard and the Tunnels are open to you again, but the Lighthouse and the Field of Flowers remain off-limits. Additionally, the Coastal Woods, Scorched Ruin, The Lake, and The Showers are all Danger Zones now. It's time to start getting a little closer to your peers. Other than that, there's nothing else that needs to be said, other than the fact that we here at the Arthro Taskforce wish for all of you to have another exciting day. Byeeeeeeeeeee!"
The intercom clicked off, leaving Miranda to her thoughts for a few seconds. She tried to process the information, before something interjected.
Beep.
Miranda looked around for a moment, before she realized what that noise was.
Beep.
It was coming from her.
Beep.
Then it hit her. She was at the lake.
Beep.
The lake was a dangerzone.
Beep.
“Shit!” Miranda mouthed, standing up. She tossed the water bottle into her bag. Then, she picked up the strap and slung it over her shoulder. Her bag was still heavy, but she didn’t pay too much attention to that now.
She slammed the shed door open, vaguely recognizing that the morning air was cool and humid. But she couldn’t pay attention to that either. Instead, she ran past the boats and dead bodies hidden inside.
Beep. Beep.
Everything was a blur around her. As she ran, she felt her shoes get wet and muddy from landing in shallow water along the shore. Only for a split second did she feel disgust, but she had to keep going, she absolutely had to keep going.
Beep. Beep.
Then, Miranda tripped. She fell to her stomach. Her bag fell to her side.
Beep. Beep.
She pulled herself up. Her clothes were covered in mud and gunk. It felt even more disgusting. But she had to keep moving. Miranda grabbed her bag again, even if it had gotten some mud on it too. Then, she dragged herself up, and, even as her shoes sunk into the mud, even if she felt disgusting, she knew she had to get out, get out until the beeping stops.
Beepbeep. Beepbeep.
Her heart pounded as she went back to running. Her heart pounded. Even the pain in her leg dulled. But she had to get out of here. She knew this more than anything else.
She found herself at a drier spot, away from the shore.
Beepbeep. Beepbeep.
She put her feet onto some grass further away from the lake.
Beepbeep. Beepbeep.
And she didn’t stop moving until the beeping eventually stopped.
((Miranda Millers continued in The Bad Bitches Club))
She knew why she did it, of course. Long hair was a liability. It got dirty easily. Already hers had started to get coated in dirt and grease. Someone could also grab it if they wanted to. It would be a quick and easy way to get a hold on someone, which would be helped by the sudden jolt of pain surprising them enough. Also, it wasn’t worth constantly trying to blow hair out of your face while you’re trying to fight someone. It was practical, simple as that. It was the same with the dress; you could always get another dress or grow out your hair, but you could never undo your death.
And yet, that feeling of deja vu remained, even after she’d removed her hairband, even after she cut her hair to her ears, even after she was holding a ball of chestnut brown hair in her lap. Matching strands of hair covered her collarbone and shoulders. It’d looked a bit uneven, but it would do. It was clean, and out of the way, and nothing that anyone could grab.
The unease was still there, though.
And as the sky grew darker, she thought about how most of the day had been quiet otherwise. She hadn’t seen much of other people, come to think of it. It was kind of a good thing, but it didn’t improve her mood any. Miranda had stepped outside for a breather, just for a quick moment. She kept her tire iron nearby, just in case. The air was cool against her skin, and the only light was the moon waning. Miranda considered the fact that even if someone could see her, they could shoot her. So, she sat down along the shoreline. She’d moved away from the bodies, but the smell still distantly hovered in the air.
It was another thing to think about, but she had plenty of time to think today. But looking back, most of her life was pretty damn fake.
She spent most of it… pretending. Fake smiles, fake insults, fake boyfriends, fake interests. Fake friends. Even if no one outright stated it, she knew that her “friendship” with Jasmine was just them using each other. Many of her friends were the same, as well. Maybe she did love them after all. But, the truth was, she’d been hiding behind a fake Miranda. She acted that way, because… well, she knew she had to impress people. She’d admired… no, she envied people like Jasmine, and Eris, and Saachi, and who knows who else. She didn’t have much to her, but she knew she could at least try. But there were people smarter than her, more athletic than her, more charismatic than her. So, she spent much of her life trying to act like she had it. Her friends might have been just a list of people to impress.
For a moment, Miranda wondered. Did they realize that as well? She tried to look back. Maybe her mask was weaker, or stronger, than she expected.
None of that mattered, though. It was no longer important to pretend, she realized. In a way, it was a sense of freedom.
A few more minutes, and Miranda went back inside.
The familiar screeching hum played, followed by the familiar words.
"Good morning, children!"
And yet, each and every damn time, Miranda still flinched. She could probably get used to a lot of things over time, but for some reason that still got to her. This time, though, she’d started sipping away at a water bottle after packing up her things. Miranda frowned, but she continued listening.
… Yeah. Saachi really was on the prowl. Alba, that douche, had been taken out by her. She had no idea what the hell happened with Zubin and Ramona, but for some reason it got a sexual description. It was kind of funny, really, she’d talked to Ramona at Ulta a while back, and she’d ran into Zubin a few days ago. Then, there was Sophie, who’d killed again. Clio. She guessed she was fond of Clio.
Another thing that was funny to bring up, too: Brigid had died, too, just after she killed Jasmine. That’s kind of how things worked, she realized. Maybe it was cynical, but the island had a way of evening things out.
Announcement over. Watch out for Bunny Barlowe and Saachi Nidal, and-
"Now, the Shipping Yard and the Tunnels are open to you again, but the Lighthouse and the Field of Flowers remain off-limits. Additionally, the Coastal Woods, Scorched Ruin, The Lake, and The Showers are all Danger Zones now. It's time to start getting a little closer to your peers. Other than that, there's nothing else that needs to be said, other than the fact that we here at the Arthro Taskforce wish for all of you to have another exciting day. Byeeeeeeeeeee!"
The intercom clicked off, leaving Miranda to her thoughts for a few seconds. She tried to process the information, before something interjected.
Beep.
Miranda looked around for a moment, before she realized what that noise was.
Beep.
It was coming from her.
Beep.
Then it hit her. She was at the lake.
Beep.
The lake was a dangerzone.
Beep.
“Shit!” Miranda mouthed, standing up. She tossed the water bottle into her bag. Then, she picked up the strap and slung it over her shoulder. Her bag was still heavy, but she didn’t pay too much attention to that now.
She slammed the shed door open, vaguely recognizing that the morning air was cool and humid. But she couldn’t pay attention to that either. Instead, she ran past the boats and dead bodies hidden inside.
Beep. Beep.
Everything was a blur around her. As she ran, she felt her shoes get wet and muddy from landing in shallow water along the shore. Only for a split second did she feel disgust, but she had to keep going, she absolutely had to keep going.
Beep. Beep.
Then, Miranda tripped. She fell to her stomach. Her bag fell to her side.
Beep. Beep.
She pulled herself up. Her clothes were covered in mud and gunk. It felt even more disgusting. But she had to keep moving. Miranda grabbed her bag again, even if it had gotten some mud on it too. Then, she dragged herself up, and, even as her shoes sunk into the mud, even if she felt disgusting, she knew she had to get out, get out until the beeping stops.
Beepbeep. Beepbeep.
Her heart pounded as she went back to running. Her heart pounded. Even the pain in her leg dulled. But she had to get out of here. She knew this more than anything else.
She found herself at a drier spot, away from the shore.
Beepbeep. Beepbeep.
She put her feet onto some grass further away from the lake.
Beepbeep. Beepbeep.
And she didn’t stop moving until the beeping eventually stopped.
((Miranda Millers continued in The Bad Bitches Club))