She had jolted out of the body after the blast, so quickly that its arm still hung in midair for a split second after she opened her own eyes again; it flopped like a puppet with its strings cut, draping listlessly over the sphere.
"Mattie! Mattie, no!"
She'd needed to get him out of here. Out of that slaughterhouse of a hallway, away from all those corpses, all of their deadly wounds, because he was not, he was NOT going to become one of them. So she'd picked him up, cradling him in her arms, staggering under his weight and half-carred, half-dragged him a little ways down the hall, and into one of the side rooms. There was a bed there, and she'd laid him in it, the wounds in his flesh seeping and staining the mattress horrible colors.
Then she'd gone back for the bags, for the medical kits. The announcements had begun to blare on the speakers. She paid them no mind. The deaths of other kids weren't important, not when Mattie was at risk of joining them. She grabbed all three of the bags they'd dropped, hefting them on her arms. And that was when she'd seen it. A sleek, unmistakable shape, almost entirely hidden by the rubble near the charred corpse's hand. A gun. She shouldn't have wasted the time it took to snatch it up and stuff it into her bag. But she had, hating herself exponentially more with every wasted second.
And now she was here, trying to save him. His wounds were bad. Much worse than anything she knew how to fix. The flesh was mottled shades of red and black, charred in some places and melted and rubbery in others. The wound in his chest was deep, so deep that she could see a ragged, charcoal lined hole in one of his organs. He was dying. Fast.
But she couldn't, she couldn't just sit here and let it happen! She had to at least try! Because otherwise... otherwise what was the point!? She sat down on the bed with a bag in her lap, tore open the medical kit and watched its contents spew out. There were bandages but... what was all of this other stuff? What were the medicines? She picked up a tube and tried to read it but it her eyes were blurry with tears and it was all in English; there were words that she might have known but she was too rattled, too panicked to make sense of them. The next tube was in English too. So was the next. And the next. All of this mierda, all of this maldita basura was in FUCKING English and she couldn't read it, didn't know what to do, didn't know how to save him, wouldn't have known how to save him even with all the medical supplies in the world. She threw down the stupid tubes, sobbing helplessly.
His eyelids fluttered open and she could see the agony in them, could see the way his chest spasmed when he tried to breathe. Mattie was waking in fits and starts, whether from the pain or his gift, she didn't know.
She looked down at him, suffering. What could she say? The words came rattling out of her throat, crushed and mangled by the grief constricting her larynx. Some of the words were wrong, but she didn't know the right ones. Didn't know how to tell him. Didn't know how to help him. Didn't know anything, because she was just a stupid girl who couldn't do anything. She tried a few times, but never got further than "I..." until the fifth or sixth try.
"I-I am s-sorry... It is... It is bad. I t-try, b-but yo no se. Yo no se!" Her fist pounded the bedspread.
She couldn't stop this. Couldn't fix it. Couldn't do anything to make him better, or to keep him alive. Mattie was in pain and barely breathing. He was dying. Any minute now. Maybe less than that.
But maybe... that could be enough. Enough so that he at least didn't die in agony.
She stroked his hair and looked into his eyes.
"Mattie... you can go back, si? Away from here. Away from pain. Happy, back time, far from here. You must go... Be happy, and stay. S-So... s-so you do not feel it."
There We Will Be, Like An Old Enemy
Private, early morning, before Day 4 announcement
Moderator: SOTF Supers Staff
Happy memories.
It was, it was hard thinking in general right now. His polo shirt had melded with the black-ash remnants of his skin, the parts of him that weren't blackened scraped away at every nerve of his, nails on a chalkboard. It was screeching, it was overwhelming, it was everything. It was hard to think. It was hard to remember what happy meant.
But, he tried. Because she was asking.
He could've gone for the first road trip he'd ever gone on with his dad: just the two of them driving along Cannon Beach, taking in the cool salty air. Or the first time he snowboarded down a little bunny hill, the exhilarating feeling of speed as the world rushed by him. Or, even just a summer afternoon laid alone in his bed, listening to whatever album came up in his Spotify. Get himself some peace and quiet for once.
Felt a bit redundant, though. And, if there were an afterlife, he'd have all the time in the world to think about things like that. And if there weren't, then it wouldn't matter.
What was running out for him was, what he could do for this world. For the people here.
Matter to someone, matter to anyone.
↻
It was, it was hard thinking in general right now. His polo shirt had melded with the black-ash remnants of his skin, the parts of him that weren't blackened scraped away at every nerve of his, nails on a chalkboard. It was screeching, it was overwhelming, it was everything. It was hard to think. It was hard to remember what happy meant.
But, he tried. Because she was asking.
He could've gone for the first road trip he'd ever gone on with his dad: just the two of them driving along Cannon Beach, taking in the cool salty air. Or the first time he snowboarded down a little bunny hill, the exhilarating feeling of speed as the world rushed by him. Or, even just a summer afternoon laid alone in his bed, listening to whatever album came up in his Spotify. Get himself some peace and quiet for once.
Felt a bit redundant, though. And, if there were an afterlife, he'd have all the time in the world to think about things like that. And if there weren't, then it wouldn't matter.
What was running out for him was, what he could do for this world. For the people here.
Matter to someone, matter to anyone.
↻
He remembered her face from somewhere.
Cecilia had always had a table to herself at lunch. He wasn't sure then if it was more people avoiding her, or her avoiding them. It hadn't mattered to him until now, unfortunately.
He walked up to her, short wave of the hand, and with a smile, he said, "Hey."
She looked up at him, eyes wary. Her gaze flicked around the various entrances and exits of the cafeteria. She glanced behind him, as if to verify that he was alone. She swallowed a bit of her rice, then nodded at him, keeping her eyes on the table.
"Hello," she said quietly, her accent thicker than what it was now.
He walked closer, determined.
The last thing he'd ever do.
"What's your name? If you don't mind my asking?" he said.
He held out a hand for her to shake.
"Mattie speaking here."
Her eyes flicked from his hand to his face. Like she was looking for an escape route, just in case she had to leave at any moment.
A few moments hesitation passed, and she reached out. A shy, nervous smile crept onto her face as she shook his hand.
"I am Cecilia. It is... nice I meet you, Mattie."
He shook her hand a few times.
"Nice to meet you too," he replied.
He smiled wider. Took a deep breath.
"This, uh, this won't make sense to you for a long time."
Cecilia cocked her head to one side, listening. He kneaded his fingers, unconsciously.
"But I'm from the future. It's my gift. We become good friends years on, under much different circumstances. Like... I know you don't know your gift right now. I'm there when you find it out. And, uh."
His eyes twinkled.
"I'm just sorry I didn't get to meet you sooner. I'm genuinely sorry for that. So, yeah. It's nice to meet you."
She arched her eyebrows in surprise at first. Scrunched her brows, like she was scanning him. Looking for any bullshit. She mouthed the words 'good friends' to herself under her breath. They sounded foreign on her mouth.
"What you say is... Yo no sé," she replied.
She hemmed and hawed briefly, then nodded slightly, making a decision.
"If you say the truth..." she said, looking into his eyes for a moment or two, before looking away with just the faintest hint of a smile, "I think... this future is very nice."
■
Cecilia had always had a table to herself at lunch. He wasn't sure then if it was more people avoiding her, or her avoiding them. It hadn't mattered to him until now, unfortunately.
He walked up to her, short wave of the hand, and with a smile, he said, "Hey."
She looked up at him, eyes wary. Her gaze flicked around the various entrances and exits of the cafeteria. She glanced behind him, as if to verify that he was alone. She swallowed a bit of her rice, then nodded at him, keeping her eyes on the table.
"Hello," she said quietly, her accent thicker than what it was now.
He walked closer, determined.
The last thing he'd ever do.
"What's your name? If you don't mind my asking?" he said.
He held out a hand for her to shake.
"Mattie speaking here."
Her eyes flicked from his hand to his face. Like she was looking for an escape route, just in case she had to leave at any moment.
A few moments hesitation passed, and she reached out. A shy, nervous smile crept onto her face as she shook his hand.
"I am Cecilia. It is... nice I meet you, Mattie."
He shook her hand a few times.
"Nice to meet you too," he replied.
He smiled wider. Took a deep breath.
"This, uh, this won't make sense to you for a long time."
Cecilia cocked her head to one side, listening. He kneaded his fingers, unconsciously.
"But I'm from the future. It's my gift. We become good friends years on, under much different circumstances. Like... I know you don't know your gift right now. I'm there when you find it out. And, uh."
His eyes twinkled.
"I'm just sorry I didn't get to meet you sooner. I'm genuinely sorry for that. So, yeah. It's nice to meet you."
She arched her eyebrows in surprise at first. Scrunched her brows, like she was scanning him. Looking for any bullshit. She mouthed the words 'good friends' to herself under her breath. They sounded foreign on her mouth.
"What you say is... Yo no sé," she replied.
She hemmed and hawed briefly, then nodded slightly, making a decision.
"If you say the truth..." she said, looking into his eyes for a moment or two, before looking away with just the faintest hint of a smile, "I think... this future is very nice."
■
Everything was darker when he came back. Less lively. Like the dull-gray light bouncing off this concrete ceiling was starting to engulf them all.
He didn't have much time. He didn't need much time.
With what little strength he had, he raised the burnt husk of his arm, brushed it against her.
She jumped. Drew back from him, scooted away, as if she was scared by him. Which was fair, he guessed.
But she paid attention to him anyways.
His arm laid on the ground. He fixed his gaze on her.
"I said hi," he rasped, each word an effort, like pushing a boulder.
"She was... so happy for you." He smiled.
His gaze went off to nowhere.
He said last, in a fading voice, "She'd be proud of you."
And then he drifted off to somewhere else.
SS35: MATTIE WILKSINON: DECEASED
13 STUDENTS REMAIN
He didn't have much time. He didn't need much time.
With what little strength he had, he raised the burnt husk of his arm, brushed it against her.
She jumped. Drew back from him, scooted away, as if she was scared by him. Which was fair, he guessed.
But she paid attention to him anyways.
His arm laid on the ground. He fixed his gaze on her.
"I said hi," he rasped, each word an effort, like pushing a boulder.
"She was... so happy for you." He smiled.
His gaze went off to nowhere.
He said last, in a fading voice, "She'd be proud of you."
And then he drifted off to somewhere else.
SS35: MATTIE WILKSINON: DECEASED
13 STUDENTS REMAIN
SC3:
Matias Juarez is fed up. He is currently walking home.
Pregame: now that you are broken by the seas, in the depths of the waters,
Memories: Vamô Detonar essa Porra!
Diego Larrosa is lost. pls give my kids friends tv3 version
Stephanie's Cuckaneers Today at 12:29 AM
maraoone was a mistake - cicada 2021
Matias Juarez is fed up. He is currently walking home.
Pregame: now that you are broken by the seas, in the depths of the waters,
Memories: Vamô Detonar essa Porra!
Diego Larrosa is lost. pls give my kids friends tv3 version
Stephanie's Cuckaneers Today at 12:29 AM
maraoone was a mistake - cicada 2021
And just like that, she was on her own. Sitting by herself, way over here on the other side of the bed, watching while her only friend died alone. Because of her. Because she was too weak to control her stupid gift, and too dumb to find the right medicine, and too cowardly to be there with him while he died because then suddenly she would be him, and she would know the precise instant when she had killed him and never be able to un-know it.
Wherever he had gone back to, whatever he'd said... she hoped it had worked. She hoped that somewhere out there, in another time and space, that Cecilia and Mattie were out there, living happy lives. She hoped that they shared good times, and that they helped each other through bad ones. She hoped that they had inside jokes, and that sometimes they laughed so hard that they cried. She hoped that they lived a long, long time, and that when their biology class went to a potato farm that they tore up the permission slips and stayed home.
There were sounds coming from out in the corridor. Footsteps. Someone was coming,
She crawled under the bed as quietly as she could, pulling the duffel bags in to hide herself from view. The air under the bed was dusty and stale, and all she could see in the gloom was the mattress an inch above her face, and the dark stain spreading across its underside. A drop spattered into the dust next to her head. She closed her eyes, listening as the person in the corridor began to speak, and then shout. She heard other voices. Other sounds. Horrible sounds, too close for comfort.
She laid there in the dark, listening to all of it. She didn't make a sound, even when one of the drips hit her face, leaving a bloody trail as it slid down her cheek.
She waited there, with violence raging outside; she waited, alone and afraid, for what felt like an eternity.
((Cecilia Moreno continued elsewhere))
Wherever he had gone back to, whatever he'd said... she hoped it had worked. She hoped that somewhere out there, in another time and space, that Cecilia and Mattie were out there, living happy lives. She hoped that they shared good times, and that they helped each other through bad ones. She hoped that they had inside jokes, and that sometimes they laughed so hard that they cried. She hoped that they lived a long, long time, and that when their biology class went to a potato farm that they tore up the permission slips and stayed home.
There were sounds coming from out in the corridor. Footsteps. Someone was coming,
She crawled under the bed as quietly as she could, pulling the duffel bags in to hide herself from view. The air under the bed was dusty and stale, and all she could see in the gloom was the mattress an inch above her face, and the dark stain spreading across its underside. A drop spattered into the dust next to her head. She closed her eyes, listening as the person in the corridor began to speak, and then shout. She heard other voices. Other sounds. Horrible sounds, too close for comfort.
She laid there in the dark, listening to all of it. She didn't make a sound, even when one of the drips hit her face, leaving a bloody trail as it slid down her cheek.
She waited there, with violence raging outside; she waited, alone and afraid, for what felt like an eternity.
((Cecilia Moreno continued elsewhere))