Cheer Up, Emo Kid

[Super Llama*]

The air stank of rot and decay, assaulting her senses as she opened the door and leading her to wince as if she were just physically struck with it. The inside of the hallway before her didn't look much better, covered in a layer of trash, old moldy food and newspaper so thick she couldn't even see the floor. She found herself hesitating, realizing that she probably wouldn't like what's further inside, but she steeled herself and stepped into the house.

The already powerful stench somehow got even stronger the further she went in, burning her nose. It was the kind of smell that was so bad she could actually taste it in the back of her throat, making her feel nauseous. Every step made all kinds of noise as she stepped on old newspapers and plastic cups, and something squishy that she didn't even dare look down to see what it was. As she made her way down the hallway, the sound of people talking and yelling got louder and louder, until finally she turned the corner.

The yelling was coming from the TV in the living room (It seemed Maury Povich just informed a man that he was not, in fact, the father.) The curtains were all drawn, with only thin slivers of light illuminating the room. The whole room was buried in trash and the stench was unbearable, but there was the person she was looking for.

Sitting in an old, crappy armchair was a living corpse of a woman, dressed in a white t-shirt a few sizes too big and baggy jeans. She sat completely motionless, and for a moment the girl wondered if she'd stumbled on a dead body, until she noticed the rise and fall of her chest. Around the living corpse's arm was a piece of rubber tubing, and just barely noticable on the floor next to the chair, among all the trash, was a needle. The girl certainly didn't need to be told what had happened recently.

"Uh..." The girl uttered, barely audible, but the words she were about to say just seemed to disappear. She cleared her throat and tried again.

"Uh...h-hello?"

The woman took a moment, but then finally looked at the girl with her sunken, dead eyes.

"Yeah? What do you want?" The woman answered back with a raspy voice.

The girl stood there awkwardly, wondering if she could really say it. If she really WANTED to say it.

"Uh, well...you...you remember 17 years ago? You...you left a kid with you sister and her husband."

"Yeah, so?"

"I..." The girl swallowed hard. "I was the kid. I...I'm your daughter."

The silence seemed to last an eternity.

"Oh." The woman said, returning her attention to the TV.

"...'oh'? That's it?" The girl was starting to feel a little irritated. She wasn't expecting a sappy tearful reunion or anything like that, but Jesus Christ, 'oh'? That's it? The woman's daughter just walked right back into her life, and all that warrants is just an 'oh'?

"What? What do you want, money?" The woman retorted, sounding rather irritated herself. "Haven't got much here, obviously."

"No. No, I don't want money." The smell felt even worse, the girl's head spinning a bit. "I...I just want..." ...come to think of it, what DID she want? What was the whole point of coming here? The woman just dumped her off on someone else and completely disappeared from her life. What could she possibly want with a person like that?

"I...I just...why?" The girl stumbled over her words before finally arriving at the right one.

"Why? Isn't it obvious? I didn't want you."

"But..." The girl felt herself getting more and more angry and upset with every response. Why the hell was she still pursuing this? It was obviously she's not going to like any of the answers. "But..."

"But what? Out with it!"

"If you didn't want me, why did you even have me!?" The girl shouted, gritting her teeth and clenching her fists, the stench burning her eyes now, she felt like she was going to vomit if she stayed here any longer, but she couldn't seem to will herself to move.

"Aunt Meryl doesn't want me. Uncle Joesph doesn't want me. Anthony doesn't want me."

Why is she still here? Why can't she just leave and forget about all this?

"I don't even want me! I doubt there's even a single person who'd care if I just disappeared. Why do I even exist!?" She was practically pleading for an answer. Something to validate her existence. The living corpse of a woman finally looked back at her.

"You're just a mistake."

Those words hit her even harder than the stench. The girl reeled back until she felt her back hit a wall, having to hold herself back from throwing up.

A mistake.

She was looking for a reason for her existence, but there wasn't one. She shouldn't exist at all.

She's a mistake.

The girl couldn't hold it back anymore. Doubling over, she vomited all over the floor in front of her, adding to the mess of garbage and rotten food.

"Jesus Christ, look at the mess you made! Just get the hell out of here already!" The woman responded soon after, before returning her attention to the TV.

A mistake...

The girl felt something fall against her leg, and she looked over to see a wooden baseball bat.

A mistake...

She felt something come over her, taking her over, possessing her body and her thoughts.

A mistake...

Reaching down, she grabbed the handle of the bat, and felt it building up. Rage. Unbelievable rage.

She's a mistake...

How dare she...

The girl took a step toward the chair, dragging the baseball bat behind her.

How dare she make a mistake like that...

Closer and closer, until she stood right behind it.

A mistake like her...

She raised the bat into the air, and brought it down.

*CRACK*

The girl could feel the impact travel down her arms as the bat collided with the woman's head, knocking her out cold.

Again.

She raised the bat into the air again, and brought it back down.

*CRACK*

Again.

*CRACK*

Again.

*CRACK*

You bitch.

*CRACK*

You bitch.

*CRACK*

You bitch.

*CRACK*

YOU BITCH.

*CRACK*

YOU BITCH.

*CRACK*

*CRACK*

*CRACK*

*SNAP*

Suddenly, the bat broke right in half, the end covered in red and bits of white, and some blonde hair. She looked down at her handywork, dropping the bat and just staring, not a thought in her head.

"What's your name?"

Huh?

"Kiel Zigelstien, sir."

The girl's attention was drawn to the TV, where she saw the inside of a bus, and a kid with a sideways hat conversing with some chubby guy.

"Well, kids, today Kiel's teaching everyone a valuable lesson. Do you know what that lesson is?"

Wait, hadn't she seen this show before?

"Kiel's teaching you that sometimes the best choice is to just not say anything."

*BANG*

NO.

Suddenly, an overwhelming panic came over the girl. The air was unbreathable, burning her lungs as she inhaled. She had to get out of here. She had to get o-

She felt something grab hold of her leg, so tightly that she could almost feel it digging into her flesh and sending searing pain up her leg. She looked down to see the woman, now with a destroyed head, grabbing onto her with far more strength than she could possibly muster.

"N-no! Get off me!" The girl said, trying to kick her off and get to the exit. Her world was pure terror as she inched her way forward, though it seemed that every inch she made, the exit seemed to be a foot farther away. She kept struggling forward, making less and less progress as she went.

"Don't worry." The woman managed to say. "You hate being a mistake? Well, you're going to be corrected soon enough."

The girl reached out for the exit, desperately trying to reach it, but she overextended herself, and soon began to fall...

And fall...

And fall...

And fall...

----------

*THUD*

Lyn Burbank was startled awake as she impacted the ground, a jolt of pain traveling up the shoulder that made it there first and down her arm and back. She could hear the whup-whup-whup-whup-whup of a helicopter hovering overhead, but everything was too blurry for her to make anything out clearly as she opened her eyes. She could hear something thud on the ground beside her, and then the whup-whup-whupping began to get quieter and quieter. She laid there for a few minutes while her vision got clearer, and then finally decided to try and get up. Stumbling to her feet, she tried to get a bearing of her surroundings, but all that was in front of her was a large expanse of asphalt and a building off in the distance. Lyn took a step back.

And found that there was nothing for her to step on.

It took Lyn a moment to realize why she was falling backwards, and by the time she did it was too late to do anything. She feels the steps underneath her hit her in the back as she tumbles down, a guardrail scoring a glancing blow on the side of her head. Finally, she slams into a guardrail, thankfully stopping her descent.

At least until the old and rusted guardrail broke and bent backwards, and she felt herself tumbling further.

Panicking, she flailed out with an arm and grabbed hold of the broken piece of guardrail, feeling her arm twist in painful ways as she lunged with her other arm to grab one of the beams holding the stairs in place. She clings for dear life, her lower half dangling off the edge of the staircase, her head still spinning. She hadn't even been able to get a grasp on her surroundings and already she's in danger.

Don't look down, don't look down, don't look down...

Of course, someone in this situation always has to look down anyway.

!!!

Oh God, how far up was she, anyway? She could see treetops below her, and what little ground she could see seemed worlds away. She'd never been scared of heights before, but now was a pretty good time to start.

"Somebody..." She said, her arms burning as they struggled to support her weight. "Somebody help me...please..."

But nobody was going to help her, were they? She remembered what the chubby guy said. Everyone for themselves. Only one winner. Why the hell would someone want to help her in this situation? No, if they caught her like this, they'd probably just help her along. She couldn't find the strength to pull herself up, and the burning pain was getting greater.

This was it, wasn't it? She was going to die. What a pathetic way to go out. Dying not even 10 minutes in by being a clumsy dumbass. Surely something to be proud of. She started to feel the panic rising in her, but rising even above that was a thought.

Just let go.

She could feel her grip starting to loosen. Even if she managed to get out of this, what chance did she have? She was a skinny stick of a girl, with no skills that could do her any good here, up against jocks and people much bigger than her. The odds were stacked so far against her that it didn't even seem worth it to try. And even if she did manage to do the impossible, and survive everybody else in this game, so what? What did she have to go home to? An aunt and uncle who don't give a shit? An abusive bully of a cousin? An empty mistake of an existence? Just let go. Let go and get out early. No need to suffer for a reward that's not worth it.

Her grip loosened further.

There you go.

Lyn shut her eyes tightly, and felt herself fall, the wind rushing past her. This wasn't so bad. Almost like a nice, windy day.

She didn't expect it to be this peacefu-

*THUD*

Lyn had never felt a pain so great in all her life as she hit the ground, her body on fire as she felt bones shatter and organs rupture. She tried to scream, but a rib had lodged itself in her lung, and nothing came out but blood as she starts to tumble down the incline, hitting rocks and glancing off of trees, until-

*CRACK*

Her descent was finally stopped by a rather large tree, and her broken body slumped against it, her lungs flooded with blood as she struggled to breathe and tried to move, only to be answered with agonizing fire an-

NO!

Lyn grabbed hold of whatever she could until her knuckles turned white as she found herself back on the staircase. No. No, she can't do it. She can't die like that.

The girl felt a rush of adrenaline as she strained to pull herself up, her arms screaming in protest. She gritted her teeth and ignored the pain as best she could as she pulled.

"Nnngggggggggh...ggggggggggggggrRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!"

Lyn collapsed on the staircase, her arms on fire, her head spinning, and her body trembling in a mix of adrenaline and fear. She simply laid there, for who knows how long, catching her breath. The minutes passed, and her breathing steadied.

And she began to sob.

There was nothing for her to live for, but she didn't want to die, either.

Such a goddamn mess.

[Brackie]

((B04 - Preston Grey: Begins))

It wasn't that long ago Preston heard the scream.

He'd only just woken up a few minutes earlier, to find several things wrong with the situation. One, he wasn't at a theme park. Two, he hadn't passed out of his own accord. Three, that dumbfuck (or truth be told, dumberfuck) Ziel was dead. And four, the contents of his bladder were spread over the inside of his jeans. Preston for the life of his could not decide which one was highest up on the list of everything totally totally wrong with what was happening.

???

Try as he might, he couldn't calm down once he realised what was going on. He stood up and grabbed the bag left haphazardly beside his unconscious body, but almost immediately he felt his legs crumble, and fell to the ground on his hands and knees. Preston's lungs felt like they were smoked out of commission, as he started coughing and wheezing loudly and forcefully. It was like he was making some sick impression of a dog or wolf in its last breaths. He caught air after a few more seconds of sick coughs, and closed his eyes before taking in large and deep gales of air.

Once he was back together again, he tried to think. Yes, think. Thinking is good, thinking helps you move and do things. Now how many people were on that bus? How many people were in his way? How big was this place? What were the chances he was going to run into anyone in the middle of the jungle? Was he going to hide? Was he going to find company? Was he going to stay stationary at some huge landmark? What oh what was he going to do?

Well, he could try heading towards that gigantic metal thing a few yards in front of him. That was a possibility. Hell, it was his only possibility.

He shouldered his bag, regained control of his legs, and tried investigating.

And that was when he heard the scream.

It wasn't like a scream of joy or pleasure (he knew those) or a scream of terror (again, he knew those), but it sounded like, well, pain. The common sense in Preston's tiny little brain urged him to run in the opposite direction. Meanwhile, the rest of his brain, his heart, and his urge to find out what the heck was going on urged him to run up those stairs to find out who was in pain. And because he didn't really feel like playing safe right now, since being a coward was how those guys always died in movies even if they were doing the sensible thing, he did indeed run up those stairs.

Hmm.

What a run it was, though. He couldn't get halfway up the metal weaving of stairs intertwined with rust and vines before his lungs decided to tighten and stop him from moving. He grabbed his chest as though his bare hands could alleviate his lungs and bring them more air. It just took a few gigantic breaths to clear it up again and he continued, albeit slower than sprinting speed.

The scream had stopped long ago, but as he got closer to the top of the structure he noticed that it was replaced with a smaller, quieter sound, still audible.

Was that crying?

It could have been.

He was so far up now.

He rounded a few more corners before realizing that the top was almost in sight. He was above the jungle trees at least now, and-

Woah, girl on the floor.

So this was that girl. Screaming girl, crying girl, and...from the looks of the wreckage of the staircase around her, lucky survivor girl as well. He wasn't quite sure what was going on, although he knew that now wasn't exactly the time to treat it lightly. Especially because he wasn't quite sure who this girl was.

Huh.

Preston wasn't really quite sure what to do. He did what he did best, though, and stood at the landing of the stretch of stairs below the girl.

"Uhh..."

So what now?

"Hi."

That, of course.

[Super Llama*]

"Uhh..."


"Hi."

Huh?

Lyn looked up and found herself face-to-face with a surfer dude.

Who the hell is this guy? Lyn racked her brain and couldn't really come up with an answer. Maybe she saw him once or twice in the halls, but hell if she knew. She didn't really have much knowledge about the people she went to school with. Probably would've come in handy now.

"...hey."

Lyn sniffed, just staring for a moment before she began to feel paranoia creeping into her thoughts. Is this guy playing the game? She couldn't see a weapon on him. Didn't mean he wouldn't try to do the deed with his bare hands, though. Come to think of it, where was HER weapon? She heard something drop next to her when she woke up. Was that it?

...shit. That means it's all the way up top again, and she's got nothing to use right at this moment should this guy try anything. She slowly and cautiously picked herself up, both so as not to startle the guy and so as not to cause the staircase to break down any further than it already did, slowly making her way back up the stairs, keeping her eye on him all the while.

[Brackie]

Huh indeed. This girl seemed afraid of him. Well, either afraid of him or afraid of the stairs that seemed to be weaker the higher up he was. Either way, there was some fear in there.

But why wouldn't there be? This whole situation was fucked up, regardless of whether or not this chick was afraid of Preston. Hell, if Preston was any more afraid he'd be having a panic attack. But what's the use of having the guy who's supposed to tell jokes and be happy being afraid? If they're afraid, everyone's afraid.

"...you okay?"

It wasn't directed more at the fact she was trying to get away from him up the stairs, but more about the fact that the railing next to her was a wreck and she had just finished screaming and sobbing before he got on the scene.

"I, uh..."

Preston felt like putting a joke here. What better way to lighten the tension than to make light of it? There wasn't much else he was gonna be useful for. Unless she wanted some weed, of course. But of course, there was a time and a place. Maybe with someone who hadn't just finished crying.

"...I ain't gonna hurt you."

[Super Llama*]

"...I ain't gonna hurt you."

Lyn wanted to believe that. She REALLY wanted to believe that she wasn't in the immediate vicinity of an aspiring killer. But even if he wasn't, she'd still feel a lot better with something in her hand with which to defend herself.

Making her way to the top of the stairs, she made extra sure not to slip and go tumbling down a second time. Glancing around, she quickly spotted a duffle bag, kneeling down in front of it. Unzipping the top, she reached in, fished around a bit and...

Whoa, that's kind of big.

Lyn had a bit of trouble trying to pull the object out of the bag, feeling the edges catching on the fabric. It took a bit of effort, but eventually out came a pickaxe. She looked at it a bit to register what it was before lifting it up and waving it around a bit, finding it to be pretty heavy. A person with a more normal stature would probably have less trouble wielding this thing, but unfortunately she was a small girl with little muscle mass. Still, better than nothing.

She glanced back to the staircase, checking if the boy had followed her up. He seemed harmless enough up until now, but still, she just couldn't shake the paranoia out of her thoughts. Shaking her head, she investigated the other contents of the bag further. There was some rather unappetizing-looking bread and crackers (not too big a deal; She didn't eat all that much, anyway,) a compass, a map (she took a good, long look at this, trying to memorize at least the basic layout of the island,) etc. She took stock of everything she had before sticking it all back in (sans the pickaxe,) and sitting cross-legged next to the bag.

Okay, so that's done.

So...

"What now?"

[Brackie]

The existance of that pick-axe put Preston off a bit once he made his way up the remaining stairs and to the stretch of flatness. It was a weapon, in the same sense that a pizza cutter from his dad's pizza place was a weapon, which meant that this girl could probably knock a bitch down.

But she asked a valid question, whatever-her-name was. What were they supposed to do now?

Well there were several answers to that.

Theoretically, he could always see if that Danya prick who killed a friend of his was true to his word and try to force their way to the end. Some sort of weird duo. Mind you, in this theoretical situation he'd probably ditch nameless girl for any number of his friends in a heartbeat and probably kill her. Theoretically, of course. He probably couldn't end up going through with it.

If he was still the same Preston Grey who got on that bus he could try finding a hot chick and being her white knight (with a bag of weed in his pocket). Of course it wasn't much, seeing as how there really wasn't anything after that he could plan for if he planned on living.

Then again, this girl was looking relatively hot at the moment.

Was there any real limit to how hot this nameless hot chick in scenario B had to be?

Preston was getting way too ahead of himself, however. He scratched the back of his head before walking over, sitting beside her with his own legs crossed, and tapping his knees with his hands.

"..."

"...no clue, you got any ideas?"

[Super Llama*]

"Nope." She said. If she HAD ideas, she probably wouldn't be sitting around wondering what to do next.

"I'll also tell you some areas where you can't go, handily enough these are called danger zones, and if you stay in them, there will be lots of lovely candy. Just kidding. You explode."

So camping out in one spot is out of the question. She was pretty much forced to keep on the move. Remembering that little tidbit of information, Lyn soon came to a conclusion: she couldn't stay here. Who knows how much warning she'd get if this place turned into a dangerzone, and it would probably take a good amount of time just to get down from here. She'd be better off somewhere closer to the ground.

Quickly packing up her things, she slung her pack over one shoulder and the pickaxe over the other as she walked to the stairs.

"See ya." She said off-handedly to the surfer dude as she carefully stepped her way down the stairs, stopping at the spot where she nearly fell off. Her skin turning a bit pale, she made as wide a berth as she could to the hole in the railing and continued down.

{{continued in They Could at Least Have Left Me Something ...}}

[Brackie]

"Huh."

Preston hung around for a while after she left.

When it started getting dark, he left down the stairs.

((Preston Grey continues in This Ain't No Game))