Let's Make Life A Living Hell

[storyspoiler*]

"One."

Count with her.

I'm going home now.

Life could rush through your head, if you let it. The oddest tastes, the oddest sensations. Mom's coat. Bitter rice wine. The cool lockers at school. Claire's gold locket, with a picture of her father inside.

Strange, the memories.

I shouldn't be scared.

Marilyn had said nothing. But she wasn't disgusted. She wasn't flinching away. She was helping. Be strong, kiddo. Live for me. I love you.

No, scared was wrong. She wasn't scared. Death didn't scare her. It was what might have been that hurt, because she doesn't hate me and I could have told her and maybe she could have liked me back. Or maybe we could have been friends.

"Tuh-two."

Sharp regret, sour in her throat. Marilyn was here, now. She wanted to kiss her, tangle herself into her, never let her go. Hold hands, somewhere, anywhere, with the most beautiful girl in the world. Forget about the Program, go hide somewhere abandoned, eat bad chicken and make lists of what made life worth living. Cold water and yellow apples. Le Portrait de Petit Cosette. Persian rugs. Old books. Strings of tiny, colorful lanterns. Boardwalks where you could get someone to sketch you a picture….

Stop running.

It was over now. Done. And she was doing the best she could for this girl. Marilyn. Beautiful girl. Wish I could have talked to you more.

Be a good soldier, girl. Be a good soldier. Don't die with regrets.

Marilyn--

Marilyn--

Take her hand.

"Three."

Live.


F17: Juliet Watanabe - Deceased

[Namira]

"Juliet!"

The word tore free from her, more cry of pain than actual speech. She flinched away, not wanting to see her handiwork. It didn't matter that she'd been asked, it didn't matter that Juliet was in pain, there should've... should have been ...

Some other way.

But... now she had to... follow the other way, like Juliet had told her.

Marilyn looked down at the ground at her knees, the hard steps of the building ahead of her. She still didn't look at Juliet.

There were... just a few left.

She couldn't run forever, but maybe she...

Could run for just long enough.

"I-I'm suh-sorry..."

((Marilyn continued in It Isn't Enough to Pretend))