itchose

[itchose]

she knows gen,   she trusts gen,   so she doesn’t hesitate to believe her when she says she’s sure.   she takes it,   letting herself get comfortable,   or at least as comfortable as she can be without her person.    there was a time before mari,   a time before akilah really knew her or became friends with her or knew how to love her.   there was a time before when mari was merely an acquaintance,  a varsity player she enjoyed watching but didn’t know beyond that.   maybe if they made it to nationals,  they would have never found the friendship they did.  maybe then,  akilah wouldn’t know what it’s like to have a friend like that.   but the plane crashed,  and in a blink of an eye — mari became her best friend,   the person she could cling to,  the one who made everything feel slightly better just for being there.

she already lost one best friend in that crash.   now she’s lost another.   she doesn’t look at gen,  afraid of what’s next —-  will she lose her, too?  

they took their chance.   one of their own died for it.   all her animals are gone.   their resources,  slim.   she’s hesitant,  lips quivering as she just barely looks back at her,  finally,  nodding her head slowly.    ❝  we don’t have room for any more mistakes, ❞   she says quietly,   but she doesn’t like the way it comes out,  frowning in response,  because she still can’t fully process that failing to kill someone is a mistake.   it’s not who she is,   but —  it’s who they have to be now,  if they want to get home.   ❝  so,  we…   take our time.  we make sure that we do have each other,   and we don’t give up.  ❞    she turns her head towards the door of the hut,  then back to gen.   ❝  you have me.  always.  ❞

she has been randomly tearing up ever since mari died. ever since gen saw her. ever since she ate her. in truth, ever since mari drew the queen card. gen was never sure of this plan because it meant that they could lose one of their own. it wasn't worth the risk to force a hunt where one of their people could die when they could figure out another way. but there was no other way, and mari died so that they could live. she has to believe that. she'll crumble if she doesn't.

she saw the love and care akilah and mari put into their hut. they shared it, and gen became envious of that after melissa left. she wished she could join, wished she still had her person beside her at night. in a way, melissa had been lost to her, but there was the chance she could come back. she did. mari is never going to come back, and if gen closes her eyes, she can see her smile decorating her hut. she loved that more than anything. creating. crafting. even when she was awful at it. mari is in every fiber of that place.

"i'm sure." she answers without hesitation. she doesn't take it personally that akilah can't look at her, and in truth, she can barely look back. she doesn't resent akilah for this, and no part of her wishes that anyone but shauna pulled the queen card. "we'll get another chance." she whispers, mostly to herself. "now..." she doesn't dare say it out loud yet. she moves closer to akilah, finally looking at her. "we have each other."

[itchose]

akilah can’t imagine laura lee being anything else but the warm presence she’s always seem to be,   but she knows that given their situation and the ways they’re inevitably going to have to adapt out here to keep surviving,   it’s not fair to box anyone in.   she can’t do that to herself,  either,  despite how hard it already is to avoid.    she doesn’t want this place to change her for the worst,  doesn’t want to become something she’s not just because of their circumstances.   she can only hope that rescue will come soon,  and they’ll go home,  and this will only be a small piece of their history that doesn’t have to haunt them forever   (   as if she won’t be forever stuck with the image of the impalement of her best friend.  ) 

while she may not connect with the prayer the same way laura lee does,  she does understand how important a community is — especially with own rough start here,   a sudden promotion to varsity right before the team left for nationals,  something that could’ve left her feeling alone had she not connected with those she had in the weeks sine they crash landed.  so she’s happy to be a friend,  happy that laura lee doesn’t always have to do this alone.   ❝  i’m glad i could help, then.   i’m always willing to sit with you,  if you need someone,   ❞    she promises with a warm smile,   because while that’s genuine,  there’s a part of her interested in how laura lee goes about this in general,  anyway.   she likes getting to know everyone,  likes coming together and knows just how important that is — as opposed to tearing each other down,  like this could’ve come to.   her brows furrow and she shakes her head,  because akilah is trying to hold onto something right now.   ❝  we have our lives.   ❞     not all of them,  and akilah’s still struggling with that,  but she stays strong for rachel.   she doesn’t need to say it,  so it lingers in the silence in between —-   they probably should have lost more in that crash than they did.   but they didn’t.    ❝  and we keep living to make that mean something.   yeah,  we have something to be grateful for.   i’m not going to waste that.  ❞

laura  lee  smiles  as  akilah  speaks,   eyes  soft  and  encouraging.   there  is  always  an  air  of  determination  and  outright  hope  about  akilah  that  laura  lee  hopes  and  prays  never  gets  tarnished,   no  matter  how  long  they're  out  here  and  no  matter  what  they  have  to  do  for  survival.   she  knows  it's  something  she  struggles  in  herself   —   she  tries  to  put  up  a  front  in  front  of  the  other  girls,   but  day  by  day,   the  turmoil  gets  to  her  more  and  more.   she  desperately  clings  onto  her  memories  of  home,   clings  onto  the  hope  of  getting  back.   it's  not  like  she  has  that  much  to  return  to.   a  modest  home,   and  an  even  more  modest  bedroom  with  little  more  than  her  floral  wallpaper  and  a  portrait  of  jesus  hanging  up  proudly  to  her  name.   she  thinks  about  her  parents,   far  more  strict  in  the  way  they  practice  their  religion  than  laura  lee  knows  how  to  be,   and  nowhere  near  as  emotionally  present  as  she'd  like  them  to  be  either.   she  loves  them,   she  really  does,   and  she  would  give  anything  to  come  home  to  them.   but  there  are  times  where  she  wonders  if  they  gave  up  hoping  for  her  safe  return  far  before  anyone  else's  families.   she  wonders  if  they  ever  had  faith  in  her  survival  in  the  first  place.   she  doesn't  let  it  linger,   instead  aiming  her  focus  on  god  and  her  friends.   if  she's  going  to  already  be  stuck  in  a  miserable  situation  out  here,   she  doesn't  wish  to  be  stuck  in  misery  in  her  head,   too.   ❝  me  too,  ❞   laura  lee  finally  replies  softly.   akilah  doesn't  need  to  know  just  how  drab  it  all  really  is,   and  laura  lee  isn't  going  to  put  that  on  her.

a  deep  breath  through  the  nose,   and  then  laura  lee  is  beaming  with  pride  once  akilah  responds.   it's  nice  to  be  appreciated  for  her  prayers,   even  if  akilah  might  not  believe  in  it  in  the  same  way  that  laura  lee  does.   it  just  felt  good  to  say  it  all  and  share  it  with  someone  kind  and  willing  to  take  it  in  as  it  is.   she  hums  in  acknowledgement,   knees  brought  up  to  her  chest  as  she  watches  akilah.   ❝  well   ...   thank  you  for  joining  me.   it  always  feels  a  lot  more  meaningful  when  i'm  praying  with  more  than  just  myself.  ❞   she  tucks  loose  hair  behind  her  ear  and  laughs  a  little,   because  saying  it  out  loud  makes  her  think  how  silly  it  must  seem.   but  really,   it's  why  she  so  desperately  craves  home,   and  further  than  that,   craves  the  comfort  of  her  church.   oh,   how  she  longs  to  feel  close  to  god  again  in  a  room  full  of  people  who  feel  just  as  close  to  Him  as  she  does.   she  supposes  it  could  all  be  worse  though   —   at  the  very  least,   she  still  has  her  mind  in  tact,   and  she's  got  at  least  one  willing  participant  in  akilah.   ❝  but  i  agree.   the  bible  teaches  us  to  always  be  grateful  for  what  we  have.   i  guess  we  don't  really  have  a  whole  lot  right  now,   but   ...   to  me,   it  still  means  something  to  try  to  be  grateful  for  it  all.  ❞

[itchose]

he lets out a small laugh— more of a scoff than anything,  because it’s all he can manage.   ❝  i could just leave,  not return any of your calls,  all of that,  ❞   he points out,  which is his way of saying if he didn’t want her in his life,  he wouldn’t be so complacent about it.   out there,  he had to  —  he understood what was at stake if he didn’t follow the wave and remain on everyone’s good side,  as much as he can.    while he still feels compelled to do that,  it’s different back  here,  and he gets to choose who he sticks around.  he gets to choose this.  he looks down as she goes on and shrugs his shoulders.   ❝  not really trying to make new friends right now,  ❞   he admits,  and he’s sure he doesn’t have to explain why — she knows him well enough,  and she knows what this is like,  too.   but she’s still right — harper surprised him,  and now he thinks of her as one of his closest friends,  a person he knows he can rely on if he lets himself.  mikayla surprised him too,  after a harsh comment she’d made to him years ago he assumes she doesn’t even remember — and now she’s like a sister to him.   he thought he and nat would never see eye to eye — and now he can’t imagine anyone understanding him like her.  

he frowns,  keeping his eyes locked on his fingers around the bottle.   he swishes the contents for a moment before letting out a sigh.   ❝  wish we could’ve left it there,  ❞   he says quietly,  though he’s not sure he really wants to talk about that.   he can try to forget — but he can’t ignore the voices he still hears in his head,   the ones belonging to those they’d consumed,  forever questioning if it’s real or just his own way of coping.   he tries to shake it off,  glancing back to her now.   ❝  yeah,  for what it's worth,  i’d like to forget high school too,  ❞   he says,  honestly,  but he’s attempting to joke,  too.   

he nods his head slowly in agreement,  because it’s a comfortable suggestion,  one he’s sure comes from a place of harper understanding him without him having to say too much.   ❝  okay,  ❞    he says quietly,   but he can’t come up with anything himself,  bashful about it as he turns to look at her again.    ❝  like,  what? ❞    a part of him wants to make a joke — like, what, ‘i want to die' is too forward?   but that’s a horrible idea,  and he knows it too,  so instead,  he waits for her lead.   

he shoots a small glare back at her as she questions him on what he’s not saying,  but it fades almost immediately,  grateful that she’s willing to give up the answer to his un-asked question anyway.   he looks away again though,  because he feels protective of both harper and mikayla,   even if he can also understand tai’s desire to not want to be associated with this.  why would she?  she actually has the chance to be something.  he doesn’t.   ❝  you’re still her friend,  ❞    he says quietly,  though he doesn’t feel like he’s earned the right to give any real advice.   ❝  so that should matter, too.  ❞   his fingers tap against his bottle,  debating whether or not to say more,  but even as he gives the thought another second,  he assumes she’s already picking up on his desire to say more,  so he gives in.   ❝  kind of scared she’ll just break mikayla’s heart again,  ❞    he admits,  and he feels like he’s betrayed mikayla for thinking that at all,  but he can’t help it.   ❝  so—   don’t really want her to keep hurting you,  either.   i don’t…   i don’t really know what i’m saying, though,  ❞    he says,  quickly getting himself away from the topic,  because anything close to advice just feels wrong from him.    

he doesn’t move to grab her hand as she puts hers over his — it always takes him too long to adjust to a new touch,  but the important part is,  he’s not pulling away.   he keeps his eyes on the counter,   nodding his head after a long moment.   ❝  yeah,  ❞    he mumbles.   because he knows that,  but — what’s his life worth, really?    it wasn’t worth anything before the plane crash, either.   his biggest dream before then was just to leave home.  he had no real ambition beyond that,  and now,  it’s even harder to fight for something in his own life.  he’s filled with so much grief,  anger,  sadness.  hopelessness.   ❝  i don’t really know what that is yet,  ❞   he admits.  

he finally looks at her again at the mention of brothers,  brows furrowing as he puts himself in that position,  because he has been in that position.   3 months went by when javi was missing,  everyone assuming he’s dead,  travis refusing to believe it without closure.  and when he came back,  he never got the chance to hear his voice again,  never got to understand what the last few months of his life were really like.   even now,  so long later,  he just wishes he could know,  that he could have someone to talk to.  it’s how he and mikayla got close—  javi entrusted her,  and she was all he really had left of him once he was gone,  so it gives him an idea,  one he’s not sure she’ll like.    ❝  maybe,  yeah,  that’s what you say.  i mean— not all of that,  ❞   he says,    assuming it’s obvious what to leave out.   ❝  if my br—  ❞   he starts,  taking a moment before starting over.   ❝  if my sister was gone for years,  and i didn’t know what happened to her,  i—   i’d at least want to hear from someone who loved her.   someone who mattered to her.   there might be something you can give them about the good things she did that could give them some peace.  ❞   even if it ended the way it did.

it wouldn't be accurate to say that she's used to the attention: paparazzi, journalists, reporters. she's not used to any of that, but she is used to the whispers. strangers, acquaintances, friends, they all whisper. this goes beyond just her, but high school gave her thicker skin to survive people making accusations about her. they tie her and mikayla together and she says good. she'd be lucky to be associated with her. people don't know what to do with that. she knows at least some of it is a brave face, one that she can only let down with other people who get it, but she can survive people talking.

she needs to work on surviving the guilt.

she knows him well enough that he's used to being left out, that he's probably convinced himself that he prefers it this way, and that maybe it is a good thing that he isn't as recognizable. he still means something to her, though, so she has to try. "mm.. i made the short list." she teases. "or did i just force my way in here and you're too polite to kick me out?" she continues. that is laced with more insecurity; she does wonder if she's just a nuisance. "you let me in." she says tentatively. "you never know who might surprise you." like melissa did. like tai did, too. she never expected to be friends with either of them, yet they both became more important to her than words could express.

"no." she starts. "well, yes." all of it is fucked up. "but no, i get it." she affirms. "i think...i think that might be life, though. high school is a fight to survive, and now...now we just have more to survive." more than most. the things they've done in that name is hard to live with. "it's a part of us, now." she gives him a small smile. "and that is truly fucked up."

she looks at him, confused at first before a small laugh escapes her. "you have got to work on your delivery." she teases before her own smile falls. she nods at his i will, clinging to it more than she maybe should. "maybe...i don't know. there's a word we could use. just one word and we'll know. any time, any place, we'll get it and know." that the other needs help. it's something she got from melissa, but she can't explain that. a word is different than a symbol, anyway.

she watches him, even if she doesn't know what she's looking for. she waits for him to move, and saying it back is the easiest part of this day. "you got me, too." if there's one thing she's sure of, it's that. "i thought we got past that whole you feeling like you can't ask questions thing?" she takes a stab at his reaction, another at what he's thinking. "tai...she wants to change the world, but she also wants to live in the world." she chooses her words carefully. "she thinks association is dangerous to her reputation." maybe not that carefully. "i don't want to hold her back." she all but whispers. she might have fought against that narrative with mikayla and with tai herself, but she knows that she could. "i want her to have everything she wants in life." which is why she fought so hard for mikayla. it's why she doesn't fight for herself.

this isn't what's best for her, she wants to argue. melissa leaving her with this secret, with this in general. that can't be. but she forces a small smile onto her face and gives him a nod because he's trying, and that means more than she can express, especially right now. she moves her hand down his arm, latching onto his hand for a moment. "that works, for now, trav." she knows he's been doing this for so long. "but you need to find a way to live on for yourself. this... it doesn't work if you don't." she wishes it came out less pleading, but she needs him to live and it can't be for someone else. they're doomed to fail if it is. melissa died so she could live. "she had brothers." she blurts, closing her eyes soon after. "a family." she says quieter. it wasn't enough, she hopes he gets. who do they have? "i uh... i keep feeling like i should do something for them, but what could i even say? you don't know me, but your daughter and sister and i became close because she was shot with an arrow and she survived a really shitty relationship out there?" and i helped her fake her death. she knows the cover story by heart. "there's nothing i can give them." she took the only thing they want away.

[itchose]

"we made adult melissa's hat have her kid's softball team's logo, just to tie it into the suburban life she's leading now and her family life." incredible canon fact that's backing my softball melissa agenda. she's training lilah to be a catcher just like she was. or better (worse?) a pitcher like her late friend mari <3

[itchose]

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[itchose]

for only a brief moment,  she feels warmth.   the kind of warmth she hasn’t felt in years,   of juts being around someone who really knows her,  the her she still is underneath what she’s attempting to be now.    it stings with harper’s smile fades,  but melissa knows she’s earned that.   the fact that harper’s here at all is enough,  even if it’s bound to come with all the pent up anger and resentment she’s sure that harper has for her.   she can’t blame her.   

but harper’s here.  a true friend,  right in front of her,  and that’s enough.  harper could walk out right now and it would still be enough,   just to have seen her face again.

she hopes she doesn’t.

she starts to smile at her words,  because she hears her tone,  and she finds hope in that that they will be okay — that harper doesn’t actually hate her beyond repair.   if she did,  maybe she would’ve sold melissa out,  told everyone she was still out there.   she’s been safe and free all these years,  she knows harper didn’t do that.  maybe that’s why she finally gave her more than she ever had.     ❝  i used to be a lot more scared, ❞     she counters,  because though she didn’t realize it back then,  she’s come to understand it as she grew up.   she was scared,   so much more than she ever gave herself credit for or wanted anyone to believe,  and so much of her fear fueled her every action,  even aligning herself with someone who was bound to hurt her,  and continuously going back to her,  afraid of the alternative.  afraid of being nothing again,  afraid of never becoming something more than what she was.  

but who she was was always already enough — gen once told her that.

she flinches at the name.  she wants to find comfort in it,  but it stings,  because it’s not who she is anymore.  still, it comes with some kind of shame,  admitting to the new name as she nods her head.  ❝  yeah.  kelly,  ❞    she says quietly,  trying not to let that shame shine through.   something tells her that harper can still read her anyway.   part of her feels like she’s supposed to tell harper she can call her whatever she wants.  but she knows better.  inviting her here at all is a risk.   ❝  i need to….   know how are you, ❞    she admits simply,   her shoulders slumping as she stares back at harper.    ❝  i needed to see you.   i needed to know you were okay.  and…   you do look great,  harper,  ❞    she says genuinely,  offering a warm smile that’s just as awkward as it was when she was 17.

she looks down after a moment,  taking a deep breath as she braces herself for more.   ❝  i also figured you were owed an apology.  face to face.  like —   okay,  maybe this is about 15 years late.  i know that.  but i’m sorry for whatever what i did did to you.  ❞   it’s an invitation for her to tell her,  to let it all out if she wants.   melissa never stopped wondering or worrying what her lie did to harper.  she just didn’t want her to have to grieve another friend — but maybe,  in a way,  she did anyway.

she wasn't going to answer. she stared at it for days, thinking it had to be some trick. melissa is too smart to mess up. they've been carrying this lie for the last 15 years, and maybe melissa decided that was enough time to stay in hiding. she wasn't going to come, but how could she not?

she used to dread getting the letters. at first, it was a relief to know she was alive immediately followed by shame and guilt because she could never tell anyone about the contents. she was a walking lie, every second pretending like she didn't know melissa was still out there. she never was able to reframe to herself that the melissa she knew was dead, replaced by someone else. even after learning she settled on kelly. she was always melissa to her.

she can't stop herself from smiling back for a moment at melissa's words, but she forces herself to drop it. she doesn't get that satisfaction of still making her smile-- not yet. she wasn't going to come because that meant hope. she wasn't ready for hope yet. also, she was pissed that melissa was still deciding what to give and how to give it. she leaves an address and harper is supposed to jump at it now?

there was never another choice.

eventually, she welcomed the letters. they forced her to work on reading. even if she could never write back, she still crafted thoughts of what she would say. eventually, she started speaking aloud, as if melissa could hear her in conversation. she relished what little updates she could get, cursed at her inability to return them, and hated that she could never share it with anyone else. sometimes, she didn't hate that at all. sometimes, it felt like their little secret.

she's still pissed.

"you used to be a lot better at shutting up." she wanted it to come out harsh, but it's teasing, gentle, warm. she missed her so much. she's aching to hug her, to ask a million questions, to finally say what she's wanted to say for 15 years. she doesn't allow it, though. she's hardened a little in time, and she has 15 years of anger to break through right now, too. anger that she was forced into a lie, anger that she couldn't do anything about it, anger that maybe, deep down, she knows melissa was right to be worried. anger that going their separate ways meant saying goodbye to people she loved. she wanted peace, but it is hard to have when so much of her life is under lock and key.

she swallows the drink in one go. "what do you want, melissa?" she frowns. "sorry, it's kelly, now, right?" she wouldn't normally struggle, and, in truth, she doesn't. she's being a bitch about it, forcing the reminder that she knows her. trust has been frayed because of this act, and she can't help but think that she needs something else now. "what do you need?" why now, after 15 years, am I finally allowed to see you? why now? she promised herself she wouldn't let herself be excited about this, waiting for the shoe to drop and melissa to need some other life-altering lie from her. she failed.

[itchose]

@lingeringscars 💬 “the dead are gone.  the living are hungry.”

she has to be careful with every move she makes.   she can’t give any hint that she is not okay with this — because she’s seen shauna with a weapon,  she’s seen the look in her eyes,  and she knows that she’s ready and willing to give in to that desire.   she will kill her if she falters.     she will kill her if hannah does not commit to this persona she’s given herself by stabbing her guide.

it was an impulsive choice,   one that felt like her only route at survival.   she still wants to believe in nat’s plan and get back there somehow,   she longs to apologize for sacrificing their chance to get away,   and she wishes so badly she could explain why she did what she did.   but hannah’s paid enough attention to know that nat’s smart,   and she sees shauna,  too —  so hopefully,  nat understands why she did what she did,   to protect herself.   this isn’t hannah trying to become someone new  —   it’s hannah surviving.   she’s adapting for the ruse,  not because she believes in what they’re doing here.   it’s impressive,  she can’t deny that,   but it’s not who she wants to be.  it’s only who she has to be,  for now.

and that means not only killing to prove herself —-  but eating,  too.   she saw them eat before,      she saw the severed head and the celebration of that man’s life and knew what it meant.   this is who they are,  this is what they do,  and she was terrified  —  but running through the woods that night gave her enough time to brace herself for it,   to be able to endure whatever she had to to get in their good graces and make herself into more than just meat.   she said,  ‘i want to be a part of this’  because it was the only way out — not because she believed it.   not because she believes in this. 

it’s not lost on her that they don’t have to do this.  they have food, resources.  again,  it’s impressive.  it’s also curious.   why do they choose to eat now?   is this hannah’s first real test?  is this shauna’s way of seeing whether or not hannah is committing to this or admitting her own defeat?    she killed someone,  she made herself complicit.   now she realizes that wasn’t enough.   she has to do this,  too.

she keeps her face blank,  unwilling to reveal any bit of her uncertainty or her fear,  and she looks back at shauna,  nodding her head.   ❝  i understand, ❞   she says,  in her most genuine voice,  though there are still so many questions she has — and she debates for a moment if she should ask or if it gives too much away.   but she’s a scientist,  and that’s something she can’t change,  so her curiosity gets the best of her.   ❝  can i ask,  though?  —   because i want to understand,   so i can be ready,  ❞   she says,    as if she’s trying to prove herself as loyal and eager.   ❝  we buried…  ❞   edwin,  she longs to say his name,  but she knows better.   ❝  — the other.   but not him,  ❞   she says,  nodding toward her meal.   ❝  why?  ❞    what makes them choose?   or is it really just what hannah fears—-  is this shauna’s test?

[itchose]

@lingeringscars 💬 “close your mouth, shut the fuck up, and let’s get a drink.”

she opens her mouth to speak,  immediately closing it seconds later to abide by harper’s suggestion.   her eyes narrow in instead,   and she finally takes a deep breath,  then grabs two glasses and pours the both a drink.   she slides one over to harper,   brow raising expectedly,  before she decides to speak.   ❝  i haven’t seen you in years,   and i can’t catch you up?  ❞    she asks,  mostly lightheartedly,   a small smile beginning to tug at her lips.   

it’s the first time melissa had given harper a real address,   a place to actually find her,   typically sending her letters to ensure her that she was doing okay with no return address and no hint to where she actually was.    she hoped that harper appreciated the effort even though she was bound to be frustrated by the lack of communication on her end.   melissa also believed she could assume the exact rebuttals of frustration harper would give her if she had the chance.   she hopes that hasn’t changed about harper.   she always liked how eager she was to be there for her friends,  in her own specific way.   it’s why she trusted her enough to warn her before she ‘died.’

❝  i’m glad you’re here.   really.   i was hoping you’d come.  ❞    she didn’t say it in her last letter — but it was implied,   giving an address for the first time,   a subtle hint that she wanted to see her.   it’s been 15 years since her death,  and she thought maybe it was enough time.   enough time for harper to stop hating her and starting missing her instead,  hopefully.   does she hate her?   melissa thinks she has every right.   maybe melissa would’ve hated her too if the roles were reversed.

but as much as she needed to escape,  to free herself from any ties to the people she survived with and what she went through,  she also needed a friend.   she needed a friend more than anything,   and it’s been hard,   being able to talk to her but never hear back.   she needed to know harper was okay,  that she hadn’t fallen victim to the same thing melissa had worried about with the others.  were they taking care of harper?   she could only hope.

❝  — no,  i’m not done talking yet.   i missed you,  ❞   she says,  because she would've started with that if she had the chance.   ❝  i missed you so much, harper.  ❞

[itchose]

@lingeringscars 💬 “i thought you were dead.”

she was.   that’s what she wants to say —  melissa is dead,  and she killed her a long time ago,   knowing it was the only way she could ever possibly move on,   breaking free of any association to a group of people that she never felt like she belonged,  certainly not just because they endured something horrific together.    she was a loner before,  and she had to be a loner after — it was the only way she could find any real peace.  she couldn’t count on any of them,  she couldn’t expect them to have her back the way they all promised they’d take care of each other.   they didn’t have her back out there —  that was gen.  that was harper.  that was mari.

they’re mostly all gone.   she had to be, too.    

but she liked van.  she looked up to van.   even before the crash,  van was someone melissa looked at and wanted to be like — not just in the way they dressed or the after,  but in the way they carried themself,   how they always seemed so sure of who they were and how to exist with no hesitation.   maybe melissa was wrong about it,  but it inspired her,  anyway.   it still does.   she longs for the friendship she once craved with her —  but it’s hard to ignore who she showed up here with,   how melissa’s worst fears of all of them banding together against her have come true.  it’s all of them versus her.   

she should’ve stayed dead.

❝  yeah.   sorry about that. ❞    an apology she wouldn’t extend to the others,  she thinks — but for van,   she does mean it,  even if she’s hesitant to trust them now,   given the company.   ❝  come on,  van,  last i heard about you…    you were nowhere to be found,  ❞    she points out,  though admittedly,   she hadn’t tried very hard—  just enough to make sure she wouldn’t have any accidental run-ins with her former teammates.    ❝  you got away.   you have to understand,  don’t you?   how much easier it would be if you could just…    live a life that wasn’t tied to that?  ❞     her eyes scan the scarring on van’s face,   and she frowns,   heart sinking the way it did when they first returned from the failed mission that melissa couldn’t work up the courage to go on herself.    she knows van doesn’t get to hide from what happened.  none of them really do,  but at least melissa can keep pretending,   keep hiding her own wounds.

the broken heart hurt more than the arrow did,  anyway.   the broken heart came with shame.   she feels it now too,  standing in front of the person who comforted her for it so long ago,  only making melissa long for a love that van shared with her own partner even more.     why couldn’t melissa have that?   does she even have it now,  with all the secrets between her and alex? 

❝  for what it's worth,  i…    didn’t think any of you would care,  ❞    she admits,  and it’s not an attempt to gain her sympathy or her pity.   she’s being genuine.   hearing that they were all at her funeral surprises her even over 20 years later.    ❝  for what it's worth —  if you do care —  i found peace.   away from it all.  ❞    and she’s still lying to herself.   because this life she’s built for herself as ‘kelly’ — it’s all empty.   is that peace really worth it? 

[itchose]

again,  she wants to credit that to ben —  because while she knows she would have figured it out herself,   even if he hadn’t presented the idea to her first,   she doesn’t want to devalue his importance.   that’s not just her visions talking,   assuming he’s the bridge home.   that’s her heart talking,   the one who cares about every single person here,  no matter how close she is to them.    but she’s smart,  and while she believes ben deserves the credit,  she also knows she has to be careful about how much she gives them.   she changed her vote,  she protected herself by following the shift,   but she has to keep standing by it.  she can’t let anyone believe she spared his life just because she wanted to,  not for some greater purpose that will save them all.   

❝  thanks,  ❞    she says instead of everything else jumbled in her head,  looking away from harper and shrugging her shoulders.   ❝  i’m just trying to do everything i can for them.  ❞    the animals,  she means —  but her pride is dwindling in what she’s been able to accomplish thus far.   it’s more than they could’ve expected months ago,  but now with a human — their coach — in the pen amongst the animals,  that hope she’s always felt going to check on the every day is harder to hold onto.   

her face falls,  because she’s not expecting the response from harper.   the sentiment, sure — but not the way it comes out,  and she can’t even blame harper for it,  because akilah is just as aware of how dangerous it is.   she’s questioning herself,  too.   she also knows she has to do this.   she knows she can’t let anyone talk her out of it —  because if they’ve all committed to believing in her vision of ben as their bridge,  then she can’t let them down now.   what they did to ben,  how they’re forcing him to live this way now,  it has to mean something.   

her shoulders slump for a moment,  but then she forces herself to stand up straight again.   ❝  yeah.  if coach wasn’t there,  me,  shauna,  and van,  we would’ve died,  ❞    she blurts out,   because she wants harper to know she understands the severity of it — but she has to believe that they won’t reach that point again.   ❝  that’s why i’m not going there alone.  i’m— we’re being safe.  ❞    but that hardly feels true.   it doesn’t feel safe.  each time she’s broken free,  she feels nauseous for hours,  sometimes more.   and each time,  she’s more scared than the last,  but she keeps telling herself that as long as she’s pulled out,  then they know what they’re doing.  and she won’t go in there alone.  she won’t.  she tells herself she won’t.

her head tilts to the side and she sighs.   ❝  i’m not —   okay,  that’s not what i’m doing.  it’s not about,  like,  pleasing everyone.  ❞    at least,  that’s not how she’d put it.  it’s about saving everyone,  right?   getting them all home?   except she doesn’t actually have the power to do that.  and deep down,  she knows her visions will never make sense,  and they’ll never lead anywhere,  and this is all just bringing her closer to her own brink of death so many times that eventually,  she might not come back.  and even if she keeps surviving this,  what’s actually happening to her brain?   she doesn’t let herself dwell on that.   ❝  we need this.   it’s been so long since we all had hope,  ❞   she says,  almost defeated,   because she’s done everything she can to hold onto that for the last few months — what happens when she loses it, too?

her jaw clenches as she stares back at harper,  trying not to let her face falter entirely.   ❝  if that’s the case—  ❞   she says,   hesitantly glancing around,  making sure it’s just the two of them.   ❝  then i know what happens to me if everyone else starts believing that,  ❞   she says quietly.   ❝  so it does.  it has to.  ❞

she can feel the wall between her and akilah. she can't tell if it's fortifying or crumbling right now, but she can sense it. there has to be a way to break through, to reach her, but she doesn't know how. she's afraid of what happens, not just to akilah but to all of them, if she doesn't. how far do these visions go? if it is revealed one of them is the reason they don't make it home, are they killed without trial for something they haven't even done (yet)? would akilah keep that information to herself or would she share it? she doesn't know that answer anymore, and that scares her.

how long until what they do in the name of survival marks them as undeserving? she's already felt that way, after javi, and she fought like hell to reach a place where she wants to live again. but she doesn't want to do that at the cost of her friends. she doesn't want to do that if the cost is her friends.

"i didn't know how much." she admits. he knew how to hunt, but that is different than caring for these animals. "it might not have been your idea, but you knew how to execute it." she focuses on the contraption akilah created. "that's still impressive." the praise is genuine, and she hopes akilah can hear that she's been doing more for them to keep them alive, safe, healthy, even happy, that these visions have done.

"oh you have got to be kidding me." she says at the same time akilah amends her statement. "you're getting high, akilah." it comes out blunter, harsher than she would typically because she's frustrated. she's usually better at saying hard truths in a gentle way, but right now, nothing is working. "if travis wasn't there...if coach scott wasn't there..." akilah would be dead. van would be dead. he risked his life for them, and they threw him in an animal pen for it. she bites the inside of her cheek before she says something she'll regret. she wants to respect the wilderness religion, but she can't deal with the messenger changes bullshit right now. she doesn't trust what lottie is doing. to travis, to akilah. she softens, though, as akilah continues. "you don't have to risk your life to please everyone else." she says, softly. she looks back, understanding what she means about it needing to mean something. "there is a chance that...they're just cave fumes." she says it tentatively. "can you live with yourself if it is?" or is it only justified if it's in the name of a greater good. she rests her hand on akilah's arm. "and that just sucks for you because you can't tell me not to worry." she gives her a small smile at the words.

[itchose]

happy pride month to akilah’s lesbian mothers specifically

[itchose]

@lingeringscars 💬 "i don’t know how i’m going to survive this place without them."

hannah has survived this long out here so far by relating to these teenagers, but trying to give them a voice that feels safe and familiar. she's seen who they've had to become out here, and while she doesn't know who they were before all of this, sometimes she sees through the cracks and gets glimpses of it anyway, and her heart longs for them. even the worst of them, their current leader it seems, can't completely mask the pain she feels, and hannah's making note of all of it, trying to figure out how they work and who she needs to be for them all, so she can survive.

she can almost relate to what gen says now, because in her first few days out here, she wondered the same about edwin. how was she going to make it through this without her partner? now, weeks later, she knows the truth: she wouldn't survive with him. it feels wrong not to have any faith in him, makes her feel guilty, but she can't help it - he would not be able to do what she had to do to their guide, and he would not be able to adapt the way that she's made herself adapt. he would not be able to integrate into their world the way she has, and she's not even sure he would've lasted a few more days even if they hadn't taken him from her in that first moment. he would have taken her down with him eventually. she can't be too confident, because she's still not even sure how she's alive after shauna found out what she did for nat, but she's still being careful, which means not using edwin to relate to gen now. she still can't bring him up, still can't give away her own grief. she has to harden herself just like they have, even if gen's revealing her own vulnerability now. hannah's relieved for it.

hannah grieves mari while she grieves a part of herself that died that day, too. she's the one who took the knife to her, the one who turned a girl into a feast, and she did it all while knowing what's at stake: if she gave herself away, if she faltered ever for a second, the cover would be blown. and she owed this to nat, for trying to save her. she owed it to nat for what she'd come to understand about her relationship with mari, even without nat telling her anything about her. mari was special to nat, and hannah respected mari, and she endured her way through it for both of them. now, it'll haunt her the rest of her life, but she hopes it was worth it. she hopes nat's call was successful, that rescue will come, and somehow, against all odds, hannah will still be there when it comes.

❝  you will. you will get through this, ❞ she says, offering a soft smile that's as hopeful as she truly is for gen. ❝  i didn't get the chance to know her. but i liked her, ❞ she admits, thinking back to what she had learned about her, how she could see through her when she was holding the weapon at her. she wasn't going to use it, not on her. she knew that. she was one of the good ones. she wonders if gen resents her for what she did after mari died, even if she's come to understand what side gen was on, how they were on the same one, and maybe, it's best that hannah doesn't address it at all, even if she's desperate to apologize. ❝ what i did know - she loved her friends. ❞ that was easy to understand, even if it seemed that maybe mari had her own walls up in some ways. ❝  she loved you. and maybe, in some way, she's still here, making sure you do keep surviving. ❞

[itchose]

he nods his head hesitantly,   like he still doesn’t want to say it directly.   he knows in some ways,  it’s easier for him to walk through this world unnoticed —  it’s the team’s photo that’s been plastered everywhere before and after they were rescued,   his name merely an ‘and’ at the end of the list.   it’s for the best — he’s been invisible all his life,  but now he wants to be,  needs to be,   but it’s not lost on him what they all go through being in the public eye.   he sees it in mikayla,  how they drag her name through the mud and assume the worst of the rest of them because of what she did.   maybe they should,   but it’s not her fault.   he wonders how much harper has to deal with,   he wonders how much melissa had to deal with,  if that’s what pushed her over the edge.

he finally lets out a breath and answers with words this time.   ❝  yeah.  ❞    she knows that,  he doesn’t need to explain,  but he goes on anyway.   ❝  i see the people i want to see.  i think it’s…  you know,  best if i don’t see the rest.  ❞     sometimes he wonders if mikayla even wants his visitations or if she’s just bored,   he wonders if nat’s already decided he’s just an obligation she needs to take care of,   and harper…    he wonders if she’s just being nice.   

he clinks the bottle to hers and sighs before taking another drink.  he can feel it,  her desire to ask,  but he’s thankful she doesn’t —  he’s not ready to address the habits he’s started to form since their return.   when she finishes his sentence, though, he sighs,  shoulders deflating,  enough of a confirmation to give her.   ❝ is that fucked up? ❞    he asks after a moment,  as if he doesn’t already know.  of course it is.  but maybe it makes sense,  too — after everything they went through.   after everything that place became.

he slowly turns his head to look at her as she says the same thing he was trying to say to her.   he gulps,  nodding his head slowly.   ❝  kind of what i was trying to say to you,  ❞   he admits with a small scoff and a hint of an almost smile that fades instantly.  ❝  i don’t think it’s selfish.  ❞    maybe he would,  if he was the one actually saying it — but he needs her to hear it,  especially after what happened with melissa.   ❝  i will,  ❞    he promises,  and he hopes he can keep it,  but he’s never been good at talking about any of it,  especially now.   still,  he knows harper means what she says — that they don’t have to talk,  they can just exist together in silence.  that seems to work for them,  and that’s enough for him.  

he is surprised though when she says it’s all she has,  and it’s not his place to question it,  but it makes him wonder what happened with taissa,  but he can put the pieces together.   taissa and mikayla might have worked things out,  but he remembers how miserable mikayla was when she thought she’d lost her for good,  and he assumes whatever happened with harper and taissa was likely of the same nature.   his jaw clenches,  and after a moment,  he takes another drink,  then turns to her.   ❝  you do have me,  ❞   he says,  and he hopes to himself that’s not an empty promise.   he doesn’t feel like he actually has much to offer,    that he’s going to be a good enough friend to help her along the way,  but he can hope.   

he doesn’t like the answer,  but he looks down at her hand on his arm,  and he gives her a small nod.   ❝  you live on for her,  ❞   he says quietly,  the advice he’d given himself a long time ago now.    ❝  she’d want the best for you.   i —  didn’t know her very well.  but i know that.  ❞

usually she would take it back when she sees she's gone too far. usually, she would have put together why he wasn't at the funeral. her brain is scattered, and she's still fucked up from what her friend asked her to do. she'd be in touch, supposedly. they had to make it convincing. she can't tell anyone. usually, she'd be able to read travis better than this, but right now, she can't get the tears out of her view.

twice. it happened twice.

she's a bad fucking person for coming to him about it.

she keeps her eyes trained on him as if in penance. she hears melissa's brothers in her head, she hears travis' cries over javi's body, his cries as he ate his heart. she hears the desperation of him searching for javi and imagines melissa's brothers doing the same when they heard the plane disappeared. she didn't know them before all this, and she doesn't know them now, but she watched their sister fake her death, and she watched javi drown, and she has the nerve to show up anywhere.

she's going to crumble under all this weight. shouldn't melissa have known that? is she being punished for something?

it would have been easier not to tell her at all; it would have been safer, probably. melissa would have disappeared without a trace, without baggage. she has to watch her step now, but maybe travis was right months ago when he said he made her feel safe. melissa trusted her; it might be torture, but there must have been trust for her to ask harper for help. right?

she needs travis to answer her, so she doesn't pull back or rein it in or change the subject. she doesn't take a guess at what he's going to say, and her brain is still too foggy to put the pieces together. "because...of how hard we fought?" she questions, remembering how hard he was clinging to life. for his mom. her lips quirk a little at his next admission. "you mean you didn't want to see them." it makes her feel better that she can still read him. she still doesn't blame him for that; she's just grateful he didn't cut her completely out. he would if he knew the truth.

she takes the bottle, and as desperate as she is to take a sip immediately, she hesitates, staring down at it. the guilt presses up against her, begging to come out. she forces herself to look up at him grabbing another, distantly wondering how many he's had today and in no shape to encourage anything else. "cheers." she mumbles, clinking her bottle to his. she takes a sip. and then another. she nods "thanks." she did lose her friend. "like we never left." she finished for him, haunted look in her eyes. she finishes the beer. "um...travis..." she mumbles. closing her eyes. "this is, so incredibly selfish, but maybe i've earned the right to be." she hasn't. "but promise me...promise me you'll talk to me." she has to sell the act, the grieving friend who had no idea. it doubles as a true, desperate plea. "you don't even have to talk. we could just sit in silence together. but. you'll...call me?" he's her friend. he's her family. "you're kinda all i got."

"told you it was selfish." she mutters, hating how it sounds. she can't go through this again. you are suffering, but you can't do this to me. her fingers tap the beer bottle desperate for another. "doesn't really feel that way." but she looks back at him, and she sees that he needs it, too. she rests her hand against his arm, giving him a little nod. "been through worse, right?"

[itchose]

he feels guilty for not being too surprised —  because of course,  harper knew melissa better than he did,  so he trusts her when she says she didn’t expect it.   he nods his head slowly,   eyes averted,  when she asks why he didn’t go,   because he had hoped that harper would understand it without having to hear it  — she always seemed to understand the things he didn’t want to say.  

he takes a deep breath,   then a long drink,  and then he pushes his hair back before forcing himself to look back to her.    ❝  a lot of reasons,  ❞    he says quietly.    ❝  thinking about what she did.  it’s—  ❞    he feels like he’s about to admit something he shouldn’t,  so he hesitates.   ❝  hard,  ❞    he mumbles,  hardly loud enough to hear,  because while he hasn’t actually considered doing the same to himself,   he has always questioned why he wouldn’t.   for javi.   javi died so he has to live.

he shakes his head after a moment and goes on.   ❝  and — um, everyone.   they probably don’t want to see me.  ❞    rather,  he doesn’t want to see them,  either.   harper, nat, mikayla, that’s who he feels safe with,  that’s who he can stomach,  but the others?  he’s not sure he’ll ever see past their past.   he doesn’t want to try.  rescue wasn’t just about coming home — it was about getting away. 

he quietly hands her a drink,  and he grabs himself another,   looking ahead blankly and nodding his head.   ❝  yeah,  ❞    he mumbles,  because he knows what it’s like to lose someone.   not in this way,  but he’s had his own doubts about mikayla,  and about lottie,  who he can’t even speak to anymore,  and he knows what it’s like to fear the worst.  he wonders if harper had any idea melissa would turn out this way— he knows he can’t ask.   ❝  i’m sorry you lost your friend,  ❞   he says quietly,  glancing to her quickly,  then looking away.   ❝  i knew we’d lose…. more. ❞    they have, in a way.  mikayla’s in prison.  lottie’s in switzerland.  melissa’s dead.  ❝  guess i just wasn’t expecting it to happen so soon.   kind of feels like —  ❞   like we never left,  but he doesn’t finish it,  taking a drink instead.   

❝  —you’re going to be okay,  ❞    he says,  but it comes out as both a question and a plea,  his eyes looking back to her hoping she can make some promise to him,  even if it’s empty.   ❝  —yeah?  ❞   

there's a part of her, maybe a large part, that is mad at melissa right now. it works, it plays into the cover, she's mad because melissa died on her. she's mad melissa made her cover for her. no one has to know. she doesn't blame her for it, not deep down. she knew that melissa would never feel safe; she just thought, stupidly, they could do it together.

she thought that about a lot of people.

travis didn't show to the funeral. mikayla is in prison. tai is...tai.

nat isn't okay, either, and she's left with all this rage and pain that she doesn't know where to place.

for all she wanted to come back, she was afraid to. so afraid she was going to stay behind. with tai. with mikayla, who she took too long to visit. for lottie, who she can barely think about without feeling guilty. she doesn't know what to do with shauna; she hasn't for too long to question it.

"if you're asking if I knew this was coming, the answer is no." she didn't see it coming when melissa brought it up. she helped plan it. she might be sick. "why didn't you go?" she deflects, looking up at him as if it absolves her.

despite all of it, travis still makes her feel safe. maybe that's a bad thing. drinking definitely is. maybe the fact that travis didn't go makes it easier to be around him. the fact that he knows her makes it risky, dangerous. like she wants to get caught. she doesn't. "yeah...yeah. maybe ten." getting drunk will make it even harder to keep her mouth shut. she can't be sober today. "thanks." she mumbles, rubbing her eyes. "this shit sucks." that, at least, is the truth.

[itchose]

@lingeringscars 💬 "in this world, when people leave, they don't come back."

part of him knew that once they were home again, that didn't mean they were safe. this hardly feels like home for him, anyway, not when he left half his family in the wilderness and the family he came home to felt entirely different - his mother's eyes, so hollow, almost like she's looking right through him every time she looks his way. he spent months just wishing to be back in her arms, just as afraid of facing her as he was hopeful to anyway, and it's just as empty as he expected it to be.

at least there's nat, mikayla, harper. that's his family. now, at least, until they move on, too.

he didn't know melissa as well as harper did, but he didn't expect for her to be the first they lose on the other side, not after all she'd endured at the hands of their own out there. but maybe he should have, because after all he went through out there, he's surprised it wasn't him first.

❝  did you... get a chance to talk to her? before? ❞ he winces,  because if the answer is no, harper didn't get to speak to her friend before she took her own life, he can't imagine how she's coping with all of this. he looks down, frowning, suddenly feeling guilty for not attending the funeral, knowing everyone else who could did. then again, he doesn't imagine anyone but harper really needed him there, so he does what he can to be here for her now.

❝  sorry i wasn't there. ❞ at least for her. he glances around for a moment, then turns back to her, shyly. ❝  you want a beer? probably won't help. but we can pretend. ❞ that's what he does.   

[itchose]

random sentence prompts  ━ from various tv shows, part 20

i will leave you to squander your future in peace.

i wish you would’ve let me help you. 

look at you. you’re afraid.

we never actually cheated death. it was always an even trade.

just relax. i’m right here with you. you see?

i don’t know how i’m going to survive this place without them.

my pain is not for sale.

you know how you get when things get personal.

i guess i’m just trying to figure out what it all meant.

nothing ever changes here.

you have to push the doubt away, because the second you let it in, it’s like a virus. it will eat you alive.

mutually assured destruction can be devastatingly effective.

you’re good for nothing other than fucking up my life.

only you would think “nice” is a strategy. 

what’s the policy on me telling you how infuriatingly gorgeous you are right now?

i appreciate that secrecy is your love language.

i’m just calling to say fuck you, actually.

i don’t deserve you, you know. 

we don’t have any more time. mine was always borrowed.

you’re gonna have to survive on instincts. stick with me, or you’re on your own.

i don’t let myself want things i can’t have.

she’s so fucking rude to me that it turns me on.

you’re in my head. you are in here all the fucking time.

say more about this me-being-right idea.

good game. you fucking loser.

it’s fine. i’ll be the bad guy. i’m used to it.

you can’t dwell on it. that’ll tear you apart.

you create your own problems. you stir the pot just to feel alive.

i think you want your life to explode. it’s fun for you. it lights you up. you want to burn it all down just so you can watch.

everything with teeth bites. everything will defend itself.

when you know someone long enough, you do start to see certain patterns.

i think you’re brave. and funny. and kind of scary.

sometimes it’s hard to show love the way you want to.

you’re either a friend or you’re not.

people care about you. all you have to do is ask.

lucky? we don’t get to be lucky.

i don’t give a shit anymore. it’s the right thing to do, and i’m doing it.

i want whatever’s going on between us to get better. deeper.

do you want to go into the dark, scary woods unarmed?

did you ever think we’d be in our own, real life horror movie?

sometimes giving people hell is the only way to get what you want.

you don’t value me. you fear me.

i waste so much energy trying to make you feel better about yourself.

if i’m not a success, then i’m nothing. and i cannot handle being nothing.

me caring about you must be so inconvenient.

sorry. that’s not funny. i make bad jokes when i’m stressed.

the things my family cares about, i just don’t. 

hooking up with you would be an empty experience.

you got the impulse control of a toddler. you know that?

you’ve been nice. now be smart.

why is this betrayal so chaste?

you light up a room, and then you like, shit on everything inside of it.

i just wanted to feel close to you. i thought you wanted that too. 

underneath anger, there is always a sadness.

okay, yeah, fuck you, you don’t know everything. 

this whole thing just turned to shit, like it always does.

you don’t trust anyone but yourself. 

i sometimes wonder if you’re just not happy.

i wish we could really be together. like, all the time.

i’m not particularly interested in dying with fuck all to show for it.

i just got excited about doing something good with all the mistakes i’ve made.

sometimes the most persuasive argument is saying nothing at all.

what happens to us? do we just break up?

that really hurt me. i didn’t deserve that.

when i’m mad, i don’t listen well, and right now, i’m really mad.

sometimes being a lot is the only way to get shit done.

you don’t have to guess what i want. trust me, i know exactly what i want from you.

turns out being friends with benefits is way better when you’re not even friends.

i like this side of you. it’s scary.

you can’t live your life trying to do everything perfectly.

you lack substance. you’re empty.

what would you do if the person who is supposed to protect you is the one who hurt you?

every day you wake up and you find a new way to hurt me.

i was never trying to be a bad mom. i just was.

uncomfortable silences make me uncomfortable.

i know when you look at me, you don’t see someone you should be afraid of, but you’re wrong.

we’re not leaving it up to chance this this time.

you don’t have to take any unnecessary risks.

you’ve been here before. it can be different this time.

you’re so afraid of your own potential, you self sabotage.

you told me what i wanted to hear, and i was dumb enough to believe it.

[itchose]

callie has lived most of her life in the shadow of her mother’s past,    both in her own home and in the high school that’s littered with reminders of the tragedy of 1996’s flight 2525.   this town is too small for callie to be invisible,   to be more than just a survivor’s daughter,   and she’s done her best to create her own identity beyond it,   but it often feels like she’s trapped.   trapped in the role of a daughter unwanted,  trapped to only knowing more rumors about what happened than any truths from her mother’s mouth.  

she wonders if her mother would be better off forgetting her entirely.   she wonders if she’d be better off forgetting her mother entirely.   she knows she’d be better off if everyone forgot who her mother was —  and yet,  something draws callie to it anyway,   like if she’s only going to ever be her mother’s daughter,   that has to mean something.   she has to make it mean something.

❝  i guess.  i can’t wait to get the fuck out of here,  ❞    she say with a roll of her eyes,   arms crossed over her chest as she looks down at the ground momentarily,   because it’s always been easier to be abrupt and crass with her words than actually dig into what she’s feeling.   if she does,  it comes out in a crying fit of rage,  and it usually only makes her feel weak —  which is something shauna sadecki’s daughter shouldn’t be, right?   

hesitantly,   she looks back up to quinn,   her brows narrowing.    ❝  kind of feels like this town is not a place i actually get to escape,  ❞     she admits.    physically, maybe.   but it will still follow her,  just as it’s followed her mother.     

❝ either you’ve been forgotten, or you’re scared you’re going to be rendered obsolete. ❞ @itchose (RE : CALLIE) - FROM, ACCEPTING.

A BIT OF BOTH ACTUALLY, but she lets a familiar mask of calm cover that thought, sensing private feelings and insecurities would not be safe in her hands. something wounded about callie, despite a veneer of gnashing teeth and a cutthroat attitude. if quinn's learned anything from the frequent and brutal blows delivered by life in the past few years, it's that none of this could matter by morning. WHY HOLD ON TO ANY OF IT? the words slip right from her shoulders, their judgment feels lighter now that she's stopped giving any weight to it. ❝ sure i guess so, won't this all be obsolete in a few more years? ❞ for anyone who didn't peak in high school, that is. she doesn't say it out loud, but the insinuation hangs above them like a cloud.

STAGE 1 COMPLETE : deflecting from the original accusation, forcibly shifting the spotlight, and it's still not the worst reaction she's had being backed into a corner. not even close.

❝ high school doesn't last forever, not for all of us at least. ❞ of course there are always an unlucky few who exit those double doors haunted - ghosts clinging to their backs. [LIKE A CERTAIN SOCCER TEAM THAT NEVER REALLY LEFT THE FOREST] when rescue came, their original team was gone, replaced by something darker — deadlier. begs the question, who did they bring home with them? or what? that's what the rumors say anyway, whispered behind her back over a drunken campfire. quinn can actually relate.