((Clara Micallef continued from The Most Important Thing in the World))
Clara's heart sank as she slowly approached the familiar red fence, Lex still somehow in tow. Here she was, back where she started. All the events of the last few days were for nothing. Worse than nothing, really, considering everything she had to go through on the way back here. At least a quick glance backward was able to confirm that we wasn't alone this time, not much of a consolation, but better than nothing. She really shouldn't have blown up on him like that yesterday. She just...
Her mental attempts to justify her behaviour were abruptly cut off by a vision of that guy's terrified face, staring up with those lifeless eyes as he laid in a growing pool of his own blood. Every centimetre of that image had been burned into her skull, and no matter how much she tried not to think about it, it just came back again, and again and again. She knew why. It was all her fault - she was the one who pulled that trigger and blew a hole in the guy's chest, and then she was the one who stood there and watched as the life quickly drained out of his body.
She could feel her stomach turn as she stopped and put a hand on the fence, her eyes staring forward but not really looking at anything as the scene replayed in her head over and over. In that split second, it was true that there was nothing else that she could have done. They both had their guns out and only the one with the quicker fingers was going to make it out alive. Still, it wasn't like that moment just popped into existence out of nowhere. She was the one who had been chasing him, stewing over her hatred for the him and the girl with the ballcap all the while. What else could have happened when she found him? She couldn't deny that she had wanted a chance to fight, to hurt those who wronged her.
Clara looked down as the ground, gritting her teeth as the oppressive humidity wrapped around her, the heaviness of the air feeling almost as if it was about to strangle her. Was she a murderer, then? Could she really claim self-defence when she was the one who had created a situation where she had no choice but to shoot? She had never really paid attention in church, but at that moment, the thought of divine judgment felt uncomfortably close at hand. It pretty much went without saying that the thought burning in hell for eternity was disconcerting at best, and terrifying at worst. Who would have thought that real life wasn't an action movie, and acting like it was turned out to be, in technical terms, 'fucking stupid'?
A splinter jabbed into the hand that had been idly running over the wooden surface below, reminding her that it probably wasn't a good idea to spend too much time here, out in the open. She brought her arm up to her face, drying the eyes that had become strangely watery over the last couple of minutes. She had made a it a point of pride that she never cried, no matter what, and she wasn't about to break that habit now.
She put a foot onto the bottom rail of the fence, grunting as she hoisted herself up, before looking back at the boy behind her, trying to hide exactly how terrible she was feeling with an unsteady grin as she spoke in a voice with only the slightest of wavers.
"Alright then, up and over, I guess."
Full Circle
Day Three, Morning, Before Announcements
Moderator: SOTF International Staff
-
Dogs231
- Posts: 608
- Joined: Mon Oct 12, 2020 6:45 pm
- Location: The Pear Wiggler
- Team Affiliation: Emmy's Selkies
(He came from The Most Important Thing in the World)
He wasn't sure why he kept following behind the girl after what she'd said. He couldn't quite place it, but he felt something that made him want to stay.
He still felt something, at least. He could hold onto that as long as he needed to, even if he didn't have anything else.
He'd left the river with her and followed her towards the rainforest. His presence didn't feel unwanted, though the tension still made the night air stiff. He kept some space and hoped that would be enough to avoid her ire. He noticed her draw closer to a fence, slow down, then stop, and he followed suit.
His whole body hurt, from the soles of his feet to his eyes. He felt exhausted. He hadn't slept since he'd woken up on that beach. He doubled over slightly, in distress and out of breath, and took a moment to collect himself.
He watched his ally pull herself over the fence, then smile at him in a way he knew wasn't real, and heard her say something he didn't quite register. He smiled back and could feel the skin crack around his mouth. He opened his mouth to talk but let the silence hang in the air, then spoke after a brief pause.
"Okay."
He planted a foot against one of the lower horizontal planks, swayed for a moment, then pulled himself further up. He placed a foot on the plank above, then twice more, lifted himself over the fence, then stepped off, and clattered to the ground.
He raised himself again and stared ahead, his glazed eyes slowly coming into focus on the fence. He only then noticed the red colour. He felt reminded of the boy's wound and couldn't help but notice that the two were the same shade of deep crimson.
He wondered if she'd noticed it, too.
He remembered the single motion as the boy raised his gun, the glint of the metal in the evening night. He remembered the barely cold corpse and the empty eyes of a cadaver. He remembered the name that'd shown up three times on the announcements and knew it'd show up once more, then never again, gone from the world.
He was brought back into reality by the caterwaul of feedback, then the chorus of speakers. He tilted his head back and stared at the early morning sky as the announcer's voice echoed through the area.
He listened as they read out names he'd remembered but never really knew, and some that had faces he could remember, like the Australian girl from the harbour. He heard them say that the boy from the river, Clara's target, was dead. He watched him die, so it wasn't a surprise, but it sunk in a little further now.
He'd found it odd, in a way. He'd never had a reason to hate the boy, who he had never met. His target had always been the girl from the shore, the one with the ballcap. He'd never seen her again after that moment, never had the chance to confront her.
He felt it was all so pointless.
He felt like it was such a waste, all of this.
He held onto that feeling.
He stared at the clouds forming as the sky rose, ran the math, then turned to his companion and spoke.
"We've made it to the third day. I ran the math, and there's...nine, I think, left alive, counting us."
He sat for a moment in silence.
He wasn't sure why he kept following behind the girl after what she'd said. He couldn't quite place it, but he felt something that made him want to stay.
He still felt something, at least. He could hold onto that as long as he needed to, even if he didn't have anything else.
He'd left the river with her and followed her towards the rainforest. His presence didn't feel unwanted, though the tension still made the night air stiff. He kept some space and hoped that would be enough to avoid her ire. He noticed her draw closer to a fence, slow down, then stop, and he followed suit.
His whole body hurt, from the soles of his feet to his eyes. He felt exhausted. He hadn't slept since he'd woken up on that beach. He doubled over slightly, in distress and out of breath, and took a moment to collect himself.
He watched his ally pull herself over the fence, then smile at him in a way he knew wasn't real, and heard her say something he didn't quite register. He smiled back and could feel the skin crack around his mouth. He opened his mouth to talk but let the silence hang in the air, then spoke after a brief pause.
"Okay."
He planted a foot against one of the lower horizontal planks, swayed for a moment, then pulled himself further up. He placed a foot on the plank above, then twice more, lifted himself over the fence, then stepped off, and clattered to the ground.
He raised himself again and stared ahead, his glazed eyes slowly coming into focus on the fence. He only then noticed the red colour. He felt reminded of the boy's wound and couldn't help but notice that the two were the same shade of deep crimson.
He wondered if she'd noticed it, too.
He remembered the single motion as the boy raised his gun, the glint of the metal in the evening night. He remembered the barely cold corpse and the empty eyes of a cadaver. He remembered the name that'd shown up three times on the announcements and knew it'd show up once more, then never again, gone from the world.
He was brought back into reality by the caterwaul of feedback, then the chorus of speakers. He tilted his head back and stared at the early morning sky as the announcer's voice echoed through the area.
He listened as they read out names he'd remembered but never really knew, and some that had faces he could remember, like the Australian girl from the harbour. He heard them say that the boy from the river, Clara's target, was dead. He watched him die, so it wasn't a surprise, but it sunk in a little further now.
He'd found it odd, in a way. He'd never had a reason to hate the boy, who he had never met. His target had always been the girl from the shore, the one with the ballcap. He'd never seen her again after that moment, never had the chance to confront her.
He felt it was all so pointless.
He felt like it was such a waste, all of this.
He held onto that feeling.
He stared at the clouds forming as the sky rose, ran the math, then turned to his companion and spoke.
"We've made it to the third day. I ran the math, and there's...nine, I think, left alive, counting us."
He sat for a moment in silence.
Clara's head turned downward to look at the ground as the familiar voice spoke, its all-too-cheery tone contrasting with the words she had already known that it was going to say. The boy's name was Caleb, then. After days of building him up as an anonymous object of hatred, associating a name with the face felt foreign, almost unnatural. It pierced through the layers of dehumanization that she had built up during her days of constant rumination on what he and the girl with the ballcap had done to her.
In other words, it didn't make things feel any better.
She paid little attention to the rest of her captor's prattling, her thoughts still focused inward. Keeping track of statistics was Lex's thing, not hers, anyway. Her stomach churned as she looked up from the ground, the weight of a night without sleep weighing making her whole body feel heavy, almost useless. She took a seat on the grass as he announcement concluded, leaning against one of the fence posts as she briefly glanced up at the cloudy sky, only barely visible before the start of the treeline blocked the view.
The less strenuous position, though a little easier on her body, did little to ease the pressure in her chest as her mind continued to focus on the previous day's events. As it turns out, fantasizing about killing someone felt a lot different than actually doing it. (Who would have thought? Certainly not her, apparently.) There was a song she used to listen with English lyrics that went,'be careful what you wish for because you just might get it all'; the words felt fairly appropriate to her current situation. The melody played through in her head, a remnant of a time before she had discovered 'that screaming music' which her parents hated so much.
Shit, what would her parents think if they found out about this? She had rarely even seen them angry, let alone physically hurting anyone. Certainly, they would have never imagined one of their children murdering anyone - never in their wildest dreams. How was she supposed to break the news to them if she got out of here? There was no way she could keep a secret like this from them forever. If Announcements Guy was able to tell who died, and how it happened, there surely must have been cameras recording all of this. What if the footage got out? It wasn't going to look good for her, no matter what, and it would be even worse if she lied to her family about it beforehand...
Clara ignored her companion's analysis as she pulled her knees to her chest and leaned her head back against the fence post, watching the clouds drift by as silence hung in the air. She took a deep breath, trying to calm the pounding in her chest before muttering aloud to nobody in particular.
"Oh man, what am I going to say to my parents after all this..."
In other words, it didn't make things feel any better.
She paid little attention to the rest of her captor's prattling, her thoughts still focused inward. Keeping track of statistics was Lex's thing, not hers, anyway. Her stomach churned as she looked up from the ground, the weight of a night without sleep weighing making her whole body feel heavy, almost useless. She took a seat on the grass as he announcement concluded, leaning against one of the fence posts as she briefly glanced up at the cloudy sky, only barely visible before the start of the treeline blocked the view.
The less strenuous position, though a little easier on her body, did little to ease the pressure in her chest as her mind continued to focus on the previous day's events. As it turns out, fantasizing about killing someone felt a lot different than actually doing it. (Who would have thought? Certainly not her, apparently.) There was a song she used to listen with English lyrics that went,'be careful what you wish for because you just might get it all'; the words felt fairly appropriate to her current situation. The melody played through in her head, a remnant of a time before she had discovered 'that screaming music' which her parents hated so much.
Shit, what would her parents think if they found out about this? She had rarely even seen them angry, let alone physically hurting anyone. Certainly, they would have never imagined one of their children murdering anyone - never in their wildest dreams. How was she supposed to break the news to them if she got out of here? There was no way she could keep a secret like this from them forever. If Announcements Guy was able to tell who died, and how it happened, there surely must have been cameras recording all of this. What if the footage got out? It wasn't going to look good for her, no matter what, and it would be even worse if she lied to her family about it beforehand...
Clara ignored her companion's analysis as she pulled her knees to her chest and leaned her head back against the fence post, watching the clouds drift by as silence hung in the air. She took a deep breath, trying to calm the pounding in her chest before muttering aloud to nobody in particular.
"Oh man, what am I going to say to my parents after all this..."
-
Dogs231
- Posts: 608
- Joined: Mon Oct 12, 2020 6:45 pm
- Location: The Pear Wiggler
- Team Affiliation: Emmy's Selkies
He let his back fall against the blood-red fence, his arms crossed. His head tilted upward.
He listened, waited for a reply, and endured the silence. He watched as his companion struggled through her thoughts, racked her brain. He didn't think much else other than the moment, the here-and-now.
He'd never really done that before, had he?
He listened as she muttered about her parents. He felt waves of bitter memory crash into him.
-----
He'd got a gift a few years ago, late for his birthday but close enough to count, a drawing tablet a little too expensive for them to afford. He'd thanked them, smiled, felt so grateful, and spent his free time making sketches of horizons and stars.
He remembered a few weeks later when his father came home in tears, the worst day of his life.
He watched him and his mother change after that. He saw his dad grow so bitter, so weather-worn, and his mom turn so grey and sick and tired, all in such a short interval. He felt like time moved too quickly and left him too far in the past.
He didn't like the tablet much after that. He enjoyed the way it worked, how it felt to slide the stylus across the screen, but he hated the memories. He tried to force himself to use it, but it never felt right, so a few months later, he locked it in his desk drawer and never looked at it again.
He always felt that they sacrificed so much for someone worth so little.
-----
He looked at her, frowned, ran his hand through his oily, unkempt hair, then spoke.
"What was it like for you before all this happened?"
He listened, waited for a reply, and endured the silence. He watched as his companion struggled through her thoughts, racked her brain. He didn't think much else other than the moment, the here-and-now.
He'd never really done that before, had he?
He listened as she muttered about her parents. He felt waves of bitter memory crash into him.
-----
He'd got a gift a few years ago, late for his birthday but close enough to count, a drawing tablet a little too expensive for them to afford. He'd thanked them, smiled, felt so grateful, and spent his free time making sketches of horizons and stars.
He remembered a few weeks later when his father came home in tears, the worst day of his life.
He watched him and his mother change after that. He saw his dad grow so bitter, so weather-worn, and his mom turn so grey and sick and tired, all in such a short interval. He felt like time moved too quickly and left him too far in the past.
He didn't like the tablet much after that. He enjoyed the way it worked, how it felt to slide the stylus across the screen, but he hated the memories. He tried to force himself to use it, but it never felt right, so a few months later, he locked it in his desk drawer and never looked at it again.
He always felt that they sacrificed so much for someone worth so little.
-----
He looked at her, frowned, ran his hand through his oily, unkempt hair, then spoke.
"What was it like for you before all this happened?"
Clara's mind wandered back, a rush of memories flooding in. Scattered images of people, places and things, recollections of events and conversations all jumbling together at once as she tried to construct some sort of coherent answer to Lex's question. She swallowed, taking a moment to compose herself before speaking.
"Well, um, back home I lived with my parents and my big brother, Antonio. We own a little cafe back in Malta - well, my parents own it, but my brother and I would help out with it from time to time, you know? Other than that, things were pretty much what you would expect, I guess. I wasn't super popular or anything, but I managed to make a few good friends. Our school's football team was pretty good too - like, I wasn't the captain or anything but I still like to think I did a decent job. We had a lot of good times out there, playing together..."
She paused for a moment, feeling a constriction in her throat as the memory of her loved ones back home brought on an acute feeling of homesickness. The pressure behind her eyes returned, and she briefly turned her head away from Lex as she got the sensation under control. It would be super embarrassing if he got the wrong idea about it, like that she was crying or something, because she definitely wasn't. It must have been the air in this place or something, seriously...
"Uh, so, yeah..."
Clara squirmed a bit in her seat as she fumbled for words before deciding to return the question.
"What about you?"
"Well, um, back home I lived with my parents and my big brother, Antonio. We own a little cafe back in Malta - well, my parents own it, but my brother and I would help out with it from time to time, you know? Other than that, things were pretty much what you would expect, I guess. I wasn't super popular or anything, but I managed to make a few good friends. Our school's football team was pretty good too - like, I wasn't the captain or anything but I still like to think I did a decent job. We had a lot of good times out there, playing together..."
She paused for a moment, feeling a constriction in her throat as the memory of her loved ones back home brought on an acute feeling of homesickness. The pressure behind her eyes returned, and she briefly turned her head away from Lex as she got the sensation under control. It would be super embarrassing if he got the wrong idea about it, like that she was crying or something, because she definitely wasn't. It must have been the air in this place or something, seriously...
"Uh, so, yeah..."
Clara squirmed a bit in her seat as she fumbled for words before deciding to return the question.
"What about you?"
-
Dogs231
- Posts: 608
- Joined: Mon Oct 12, 2020 6:45 pm
- Location: The Pear Wiggler
- Team Affiliation: Emmy's Selkies
He stared upward at the morning sky, aching from his reminiscence. He didn't want to think about it, but his ally had told him, so he owed her that much.
He thought her life sounded pleasant, even if he couldn't picture it. He tried to think of home, and all that came to mind was a tower block.
"I don't know at this point."
He stared forward, uncrossed his arms, and put them behind his head as he leaned against the fence.
"Poverty, a council flat, and a weekend job at Aldi, I guess. I never really had any plans for the future."
He shook his head and sighed.
"I never thought I'd have one, and I guess I turned out to be right."
He closed his eyes for a moment, and it hurt to open them again.
"I'm not sure it's worth it for me to go back, not after everything that's happened."
He thought her life sounded pleasant, even if he couldn't picture it. He tried to think of home, and all that came to mind was a tower block.
"I don't know at this point."
He stared forward, uncrossed his arms, and put them behind his head as he leaned against the fence.
"Poverty, a council flat, and a weekend job at Aldi, I guess. I never really had any plans for the future."
He shook his head and sighed.
"I never thought I'd have one, and I guess I turned out to be right."
He closed his eyes for a moment, and it hurt to open them again.
"I'm not sure it's worth it for me to go back, not after everything that's happened."
Lex's words hung in the air as Clara glanced over at him, studying his expression. That was... way more bleak than she had been expecting it to be. Was that the kind of stuff he had been thinking about all this time? Like, her prospects weren't exactly top tier, but she couldn't imagine living with that sort of weight on her shoulders. The only thing that made the whole 'trapped-on-murder-island' experience even slightly bearable was the slim hope of getting back home; the thought that someone could be getting by without even that small comfort was depressing, to say the least.
The shock of it all drove home how little she actually knew about her travelling companion, despite having been together constantly for the past few days. Clara felt a brief pang of guilt - sure, he wasn't the most talkative fellow, but she really could have tried harder to get to know him as well. She at least owed him that, after how much time he had spent watching her back.
The two sat there for a painfully long time, the silence only broken by the humming of distant insects as the gap in their conversation became increasingly uncomfortable. Clara swallowed, fumbling for words as she strung together her response.
"A-are you sure? What about your family, friends? They must be missing you a lot, surely-"
She winced inwardly as her voice faded before she could finish her sentence. Her reply was already pretty weak, but to end it with some variation on 'it can't be that bad' would have only made it ten times worse. The truth was that she didn't know his life, at least not like he did.
Maybe it really was that bad.
The shock of it all drove home how little she actually knew about her travelling companion, despite having been together constantly for the past few days. Clara felt a brief pang of guilt - sure, he wasn't the most talkative fellow, but she really could have tried harder to get to know him as well. She at least owed him that, after how much time he had spent watching her back.
The two sat there for a painfully long time, the silence only broken by the humming of distant insects as the gap in their conversation became increasingly uncomfortable. Clara swallowed, fumbling for words as she strung together her response.
"A-are you sure? What about your family, friends? They must be missing you a lot, surely-"
She winced inwardly as her voice faded before she could finish her sentence. Her reply was already pretty weak, but to end it with some variation on 'it can't be that bad' would have only made it ten times worse. The truth was that she didn't know his life, at least not like he did.
Maybe it really was that bad.
-
Dogs231
- Posts: 608
- Joined: Mon Oct 12, 2020 6:45 pm
- Location: The Pear Wiggler
- Team Affiliation: Emmy's Selkies
"I don't know."
He stared forward, blankly.
"Parents, maybe."
He shouldn't get to go back to them.
He knew they deserved better than that.
"I don't have many friends to speak of."
He understood they wouldn't want him around.
He stared forward, blankly.
"Parents, maybe."
He shouldn't get to go back to them.
He knew they deserved better than that.
"I don't have many friends to speak of."
He understood they wouldn't want him around.
Clara bit her tongue as she looked away from Lex, an uncomfortable feeling building in her stomach. It was hard to imagine Lex living that sort of life, one without anyone who actually seemed to care for him. He was quiet, sure but...
Another awkward silence hung in the air before Clara gave the boy sitting next to her a clumsy pat on the shoulder before slowly beginning to climb to her feet. She spoke hesitantly, clearly aware of how obvious it was what she was doing.
"Um, we probably should get moving, you know? We've been here for a while, and the longer we stay, the more likely somebody sneaks up on us."
It was bullshit reasoning, but better than whatever excuse she could give about how Lex's life back home was alright, actually. She wasn't the best speaker, and even if she was, she knew that when someone is in a mood like that, the last thing they needed was for somebody to tell them that things were going to get better without providing any concrete reasons why.
The only thing to do from here on was to keep walking, and hope that the exertion would help push the uncomfortable thoughts away.
((Clara Micallef continued elsewhere))
Another awkward silence hung in the air before Clara gave the boy sitting next to her a clumsy pat on the shoulder before slowly beginning to climb to her feet. She spoke hesitantly, clearly aware of how obvious it was what she was doing.
"Um, we probably should get moving, you know? We've been here for a while, and the longer we stay, the more likely somebody sneaks up on us."
It was bullshit reasoning, but better than whatever excuse she could give about how Lex's life back home was alright, actually. She wasn't the best speaker, and even if she was, she knew that when someone is in a mood like that, the last thing they needed was for somebody to tell them that things were going to get better without providing any concrete reasons why.
The only thing to do from here on was to keep walking, and hope that the exertion would help push the uncomfortable thoughts away.
((Clara Micallef continued elsewhere))
-
Dogs231
- Posts: 608
- Joined: Mon Oct 12, 2020 6:45 pm
- Location: The Pear Wiggler
- Team Affiliation: Emmy's Selkies
He looked at his companion, then pushed himself away from the fence into a standing position. He didn't feel the need to respond, so he just nodded his head.
He knew that nine people remained, that eight people had to die, that there were seven others, two of them, and only one who could live.
He would have to make it count.
(He went to Endgame.)
He knew that nine people remained, that eight people had to die, that there were seven others, two of them, and only one who could live.
He would have to make it count.
(He went to Endgame.)