Welcome Guest [Log In] [Register]
ZetaBoards - Free Forum Hosting
ZetaBoards gives you all the tools to create a successful discussion community.
Learn More · Register for Free
The Questions Game - V5 Edition
Cheshire42
Oct 24 2011, 10:44 PM
Question: If you could Identify yourself as an object, what would it be?
Paris: My guitar, of course.

Michelle: Ummmm, a really fat teddy bear. I love fat animals sooo much. More than I should, really >_>

Amaranta: I don't like that question, it's silly. If I must choose then I guess....a vintage Cartier watch. Functional, beautiful, and more than you could afford.



Question: Are you a good dancer? If so, what's your signature move?

That Which Survives
((Isabel Guerra continued from Latin Girls))


Isabel blinked and the slight reflection of her blinked back. She was resting her head against the window of a car. The car was taking her back home. The driver seemed to realize she wasn’t in the mood for talking and let her be. She sighed.

“Excited to see your folks?” he said, breaking the silence.

“I guess,” she offered half heartedly.


The tree lined streets of St. Paul ran by her and smudged before her eyes. The car turned into one of the in-streets away from the nice houses and stopped in front of her little apartment complex. There were people outside it.

“What the-….” she mumbled.

Someone opened the door for her and she stepped out carefully with her bag. She took two steps and was blinded.

There was a crowd of media people swarming the path to the cheap little gate of her apartment complex. STAR said that they wouldn’t alert the media. How was this happening?

Suddenly she was nearly taken down by someone embracing her.

“Princessa!”

Her mother was hugging her.

“Mom, let go! Let go of me! Ow, my stab wound!” Isabel shouted as she struggled and squirmed.

Isabel’s mother grabbed her by the good hand and pulled her after her towards the entrance. Suddenly she was wrenched from her mother’s hand and propped in front of the crowd like a doll.

“My little lamb. My precious little girl.”

Isabel was in a state of shock as her father cooed over her in front of the strangers and hugged her tightly. She felt like she was about to vomit.

First time you’ve seen me in years and the first thing you do is sell me out. Classy.

“We’re so happy to have our daughter home!” he said, smiling wide. “We’ve been worried sick, Isabel.”

Isabel felt unsteady on her feet. She felt like she was going to fall to the floor at any moment. She buckled and he held her up. His arm was under her arm and she wanted to get it off of her.

“I think she’s feeling weak still. Thank you all for coming out and showing your concern. We’re just so happy to have her back.”

He turned her towards the gate and the crowd started to dissipate. She stumbled forward out of his grasp and towards her mother, who took her by the arm and guided her to their apartment.

Isabel shuffled into the apartment after her mother and her father closed the door behind them. She sat gently on the couch and her mother kissed her face over and over until Isabel yelled about her neck injury and instead went to get her a glass of water, leaving her with her father.

“You look good, Isa,” he said with a chuckle.

Isabel glared darkly at him.

“What are you doing here?”

“You’re my only daughter. Of course I’m here. I was worried.”

“Uh hu.”

“And I figured you would need help to recover after what you’ve been through. You held up very well, very strong, like I always wanted you to be. I’m proud.

“Uh hu.”

“And I think that if you look at this in the right light, it doesn’t have to be all bad. I can help you turn it into a good thing.”

“…….how the….how could this EVER be a good thing?”

“Well, it’s afforded you opportunities. Opportunities I think you should take advantage of.”

“………”

“Television appearances, books deals, this has a lot of potential and I’m willing to help you tap into that.”

Isabel sat perfectly still, staring at a square of carpet next to her father’s feet. Her mother brought her a glass of water and Isabel left it untouched.

“I won’t do that,” she said quietly.

“Do what?” he mother asked, having returned.

“You know, I learned something. I found people that when I’m around them I feel like they bring out the best in me. We aren’t around each other but when we talk I can feel all my best qualities coming out. I’m warm and sweet and nurturing and loyal and protective. They bring out the absolute best version of my self.

You are the polar opposite. You bring out the worst in me. When I think of you I become cold, distant, angry, resentful, vindictive and cruel. It’s hard to believe it's the same person.

I think that you realize how little you’ve done to parent me in the last 10 years and you try to make up for it by pretending that you’re a father, but really you’re only back for yourself.

I’m fairly certain you can’t name even one thing I like. A book, a movie, a television show. At this point I’m not inclined to give you any of that information. I don’t want you to know who I am.

It just feels so incredibly unfair to me that I tried so hard, I do so much and I scrape for myself and you left me. Only now are you really proud of me. I had to get nearly killed for you to say I was worth something.

This relationship has rotted from the inside for quite sometime even when you were here. You reap what you sow. If you attend to a relationship, like a plant, it grows beautiful and full. I believe ours to be dead. I hope you do quite well in your own life and wish you the best of luck.”

Isabel took a deep breath.

“Now get out of my house.”

He stared at her for a moment before sighing and putting his hands on his hips.

“I'm sad to hear your remarks about me and about our relationship, but at least you are honest,” he said with a slight chuckle. “Maybe we can learn to work out the hurting points and have a foundation for a good relationship. I can help you more than you know, together we played our cards right we could-“

"I think you need to go," her mother interjected.


“Get out of my house and don’t ever speak to me,” Isabel said, standing up.


His expression darkened and he scowled at her.


“Ungrateful little bitch. When I was here not once did you show care, love or even a simple thank you.”

Isabel picked up a letter opener off the coffee table in front of her and stood with her feet planted, holding the edge out at him.


“I know English isn’t your first language but I know you understand this, now get the fuck out of my house or I will stab the shit out of you and there is no jury that would put me away.”

Latin Girls
Isabel stopped looking through the sweets and looked down. Her hair came forward making a dark, curtain of curls to hide her face. Her right hand, free of the sling curled into itself.

She took a deep breath. It was exactly like when she'd told Ray that she would have killed Liz herself. Flashbacks to sitting on the couch in a house on the island as she told Ray that it was a mistake and how he looked at her, shocked.

"I.....I'm not ready to think of Raidon. I don't know anything about Nick, but I know about Raidon."

She exhaled.

"Thanks for the confidence. Imma need it. Good luck to you too, you're gonna make it just fine. Worse come to worse..."

Isabel cheered. She tilted her head and smiled just a little. The kids would be coming back to the bus any minute.

"....we've got a movie date."

((Isabel Guerra completed in That Which Survives ))

Latin Girls
Isabel wasn't sure whether or not to press the girl for more. She studied her.

"You sound a lot like me. That's how I sounded back on the island. 'Go see them one last time.' I told STAR to tell everyone I was dead as a condition of getting on the boat. Well, Ray tossed my ass on the boat and I woke up in Canada."


Had Isabel actually become more self-aware since being on the island? She felt as though she was strangely clear headed for someone who'd tried to escape a hospital a few days ago.

"I can't know if what you say is true or not, but you seem like a nice girl. I mean, you shared gummy bears with me and didn't even care that I took the good ones. If they don't want you, well, I'll be happy to go with you to the movies. I know that's a poor replacement for a family, but it couldn't hurt."


It was unusually personable of Isabel. Three weeks ago she'd never have been this open with a classmate.


"Me? My family didn't want me before I went to the island. I can't imagine it's possible for them to want me any less. I was a burden to my mom and we were distant. My dad ran off four years ago. But I think.....I think he's in St. Paul right now. I think he's waiting. I'd rather go up against Raidon again than talk to them, but....I have to. I have to or it'll never be okay for me because it'll bug me forever. Then I'll know and then I can go forward."

Isabel became silent. Her face was serious. She looked down at her hands for a moment and then out the window.

"This....experience, this has undermined my whole being. It's taken me to the absolute depths of fear and anguish. However.....I've also seen people do more good than I ever thought possible from the regular kids at Bayview. At the end, it has to be about trying to find.......joy. If you don't at least try to find happiness, you dishonor their memory. Ya know?"

Latin Girls
"Not crazy anymore," she repeated, somewhat amused.

"Who am I kidding? I won't lie, I was crazy to begin with. I'm still crazy. I'll be crazy until I die."

Isabel shrugged and took a red gummy bear. It still hurt to swallow a bit. The sweet taste was sharp on her tongue. Most of her hospital nourishment had been fed to her through the tubes in her arms considering she'd been unconscious until very recently. In retrospect, that was really her own fault. She tried to get at Mizore, she tried to run. When she was awake enough to eat, hospital food was mostly bland. It was like they didn't want to startle her too much by introducing flavor too early.


Isabel looked down at her arm. In the crook of her elbow there were puncture marks now. She wondered when they'd go away.

"Red ones and the white ones. Those are the best. Red is obviously cherry or something but I'm not sure what flavor 'clear' is supposed to be."

She normally felt a little selfish picking through the gummy bears for the red and white ones, but today she figured she could do just as she pleased. Isabel looked at Jennifer while trying to swallow a gummy bear.

"That's.....cool I guess. Its nice to have things of your own in an unfamiliar place. I didn't keep anything. I lost everything on the island. Well, almost everything."

By the time she'd been picked up all her bag had in it was the letters she was carrying, some empty water bottles, a large piece of mirror from the house of mirrors and her trumpet. The hospital staff took the jagged mirror shard, but they let her keep the outfit she'd worn the whole way through on the island. She was currently wearing an over-sized sweatshirt that said "Victoria B.C." on it and some jeans the hospital had given her, but inside her bag was the ripped and torn mini skirt and her father's white button up shirt, now coated in dry blood and hardened mud. There was also one other thing.

"They let me keep my assigned weapon," she said with a bit of a smile. "Its a trumpet."

It was silly, but she'd grown rather attached to the thing. It was dented in the side from where she'd clocked Roland and it was covered in it's fair share of grime, but it was kind of like a friend.

"I didn't think I'd be here. I thought I'd be half way to Vegas by now. I wasn't going to go back to St. Paul. I'm still not sure. Ray saved my life and he convinced me to go back. I told myself it was because it was safer if I disappeared but it turns out I was just afraid to go back and face reality. Reality is scary. I never asked this on the island because I thought it was a pipe dream and not worth asking but now, now that we're going back, I guess I can ask......

What are you going to do when you get home?"

She wasn't sure why she was saying all this to Jennifer. She knew Ray and Allen and Jay and Felicia, if only in passing. Maybe it was because aside from Ray she really hadn't spoken to anyone since she woke up. Maybe she needed another girl to talk to. Maybe it was because sometimes strangers make the best confidants.

Latin Girls
"Pine needles....I never thought of that. I ran out of food like an idiot and I passed out. I passed out looking for my friends. We got separated and then I never saw them again."

Isabel grew quiet. Then Jennifer said she was sorry. Isabel looked up with new tears threatening to spill over.

"Me too. I'm sorry. You're sorry. The whole world is sorry."

She shook her head and wiped her face again, laughing a bit.

"No, I mean, no. I shouldn't do that anymore," a deep breath, "I'm not crazy, I promise. It's just been.....a long day. Tears don't do a thing and they wouldn't want me to cry. Except maybe Dave, but he was kind of an ass."

Isabel cleared her throat and smiled. "Did you....wanna share gummy bears?"

Latin Girls
Isabel sniffed and swallowed. She coughed and started trying to wipe away the tears with her good hand. Her other arm was confined to a sling so that it wouldn't move around much. The bruises on her neck had matured into a soft shade of purple. It was too hard for her to get the tears that had slipped under the bandage just bellow her eye.

"N-No. It's fine. Really. Thank you. Thanks for waking me up. I was just....having a bad dream."


Isabel counted to ten and took a deep breath. She was calm. Count and breath in.

She turned and took a good look at the girl. Jen.....Jennifer? Right. She was fairly certain that was it.

Isabel looked outside at the McDonalds, complete with Play Place. If she'd been in better shape, she would have been tempted to go into the ball pit. Height restrictions be damned.

"Aren't you hungry?" she asked the girl.

She sighed and looked out at the restaurant again. "How strange is it? To be near a restaurant? It feels so weird to be some place where there's just......food. There's as much food as you want, whenever you want. It seems so easy. Feels weird."

Latin Girls
((Continued from Abre Los Ojos ))

She was still going in and out of consciousness since leaving the hospital. The bus driver said that in a little while they'd stop at McDonalds to get some food before getting on the plane bound for home. Isabel wasn't interested. Ray was sitting with her on the bus. She told him she didn't want to get off the bus and that when it came time, to go on. He seemed to understand. She leaned her head against the window, closed her eyes, and prayed to God that she wouldn't wake up on an island.

Darkness was all around. The place was a void, seemingly endless with nothing in it other than her lying on the floor with a spotlight shining down on her. She lay on her side, staring glassy eyed into the nothing. Out of the dark a hand emerged and lightly ran it’s fingers through her hair. She flinched, but didn’t move. A small handheld mirror clattered to the ground next to her, reflecting the fact that she was wearing a pink, doll-like dress, but she didn’t look at it. Isabel continued to look straight at the empty dark.

"Charlie's mirror," she whispered.

“Little victim,” spoke a voice from the same direction of the hand, now running across the frills of her sleeves.

“All my life I’ve wasted....” she said in a delicate monotone.

“I’ll violate you and show you my religion.” The speaker seemed amused. The hand twirled a few soft, dark curls into the digits.

Tears collected in the bottom of her eyes. She blinked and they rolled down her cheeks.

“Take my voice, it will never leave you,” came from the dark and trailed off into a chuckle. It moved to her face and stroked her cheek gently. The voice sounded far, like it was coming from a PA system. It sounded like announcements.

“You’re the Christmas, promising the summer,” she whispered.

“You simple girl. Simple girl. You let them die. You failed”

From no where a second hand appeared holding a kitchen knife.

“Dave's knife.....Danya,” she said quietly after him. Tears fell steadily down her face.

“That's right.” The blade of the knife rested on the fabric at her chest. “Let’s find out what little girls are made of.”

“No,” tumbled just barley out, more exhaled than spoken. A sob escaped her lips




Someone was touching her. Touching and it hurt. Isabel gasped and woke up. She could feel the tears wet on her face and took a shuddering breath, looking at the person who'd woken her.

Abre Los Ojos
Isabel's olive skin was tinged just a bit pink. Her eyes softened and she smiled down at the boy sleeping in her lap. There was some feeling in her chest, a lightness.

"Thanks right back," she said quietly. It was going to be okay. It might take awhile for it to be okay, but he gave her hope that one day with a lot of hard work, it could be. She could find peace as herself and she could help him find it too.

He taught her the lesson she was missing. Strength is admitting your faults and working through them instead of running away.


And maybe, together, they could learn to be kids again.

((Continued in Latin Girls))

Abre Los Ojos
Isabel had plans, she supposed. She was going to run off to some far off city with no one in it, Barstow maybe, get a low level job, change her name, build a new life brick by brick all under the guise of being dead to the world as Isabel.

She would leave her parents and St. Paul and everything she'd ever known and pretend like it wasn't there.

Ray was in pain, but he wasn't going to run from it. He was going to go back because it was the right thing to do. Isabel had been planning to run, but what would that have made her? A coward, something she hated.

"I have to go back and face my mother. News of all this might have brought my father around too. Face them both. I'll always have to hide if I don't go back. Either live a happy lie or try to work through the pain of truth until that happiness is mine. You're right, I don't have to be any of those things and I can't.....I can't go on if I don't take this with me because it's part of me now."

She lowered her eyes to Ray's hand on hers and she did not flinch. She turned her hand upside down and grasped his hand in hers.

"I'll go back with you. I'll go talk to the families of the kids who made this possible and let them know what they meant to me and let them know the service their children did. I'll stay by your side and it'll be okay."

She took a deep breath and nodded.


Abre Los Ojos
She saw his expression fall. Isabel pulled herself up the rest of the way into sitting up with the power of her good arm.

"Oh, oh God, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

Stupid stupid stupid. You made him sad. Oh and he told you to stop saying sorry!

"I've got everything to apologize for. Do you know how many people helped to make sure we could call for help? Tons. Dave, Helen, Winnie, Roland, Feo, Kitty and that Ethan kid who was dead when I got there. I was supposed to make sure they were safe. Roland told me to keep them safe and they're all dead now. I couldn't save even one. Hayley too, she was the only person who took me in back at St. Paul when I was all alone."


She lifted her almond eyes to look at the boy. She started at his arms, resting on her bed, climbing up to his tired face. Her arm curled under her, brushing past her now flat stomach, devoid of the baby fat she had before the island and gently feeling the bandages over her stab wound.

"I didn't earn anything. I helped a little and then I botched it. I tripped over the body of Helen right before the boats and got splattered in her still-warm blood. I'll go anywhere. I've only got a mother to go back to and I was a burden to her anyway. No family. St. Paul isn't really my home, I only lived there four years. I don't have a home. I don't have a place I grew up with notches in the wall that marked my growth. You've got everything to go back to. Me, a bunch of other people owe our lives to you....

The fact is, I'm the only one left out of the group who called STAR. If the terrorists wanted someone's head, it'd be mine. But.......no. It's not that. That's not what I'm afraid of."

Isabel let her hand drop and looked earnestly at Ray, right in the eye in a way that normally made her uncomfortable.

"If they say my name and they list me as a survivor, people are going to know that I went through this and they will recognize me. I don't want this to define me. I don't want to be known. This....this....Survival of the Fittest, I can't let it swallow me up, I can't make the book deals and go on the shows and have people point at me and tell me how strong and brave I was and how sorry they are for me. If I do that, I'll lose my life to this thing and then.....the terrorists have won anyway. I have to find a way to be happy again, and I can't do that with this life that I've been left with. I don't want to be a 'terrorism survivor' or a 'victim' or anything. I just want to be a girl. Isabel Guerra can't ever just be a girl again.



Abre Los Ojos
Dave?

No.

"Ray?" she said hoarsely. He was sitting there near her bed as if he had been waiting. He must have been.

"How long have you been there?" she said, gaining back her voice. She immediately felt foolish. She blushed through her bandages.

There was water on a table near her good arm. Shakily, she reached for it and drank. The cool of the water did wonders for her.

"You shouldn't have......waited...." she said, trying to think through the haze.


"I don't deserve.....your.....waiting....I-I'm sorry, Ray. I'm sorry I yelled at you. You saved my life and I screamed at you. I'm sorry I didn't tell you that they were coming to save us. We called for help and I couldn't tell you because you, because if something went wrong and they tortured us to find out how we did it, I didn't want you and, and, and Annaliese to- to be,"

She blinked at the room focused a little more. It became easier to remember, but the pain became sharper with it. Isabel took a deep breath and tried to sit up.

"I wanted to tell you sorry before I left."

Abre Los Ojos
((Isabel Guerra continued from The Cavalry Arrives))

Everything was so dizzy. The collar was taken off of her neck and it felt strange to be without it. Lying near her was Mizore. Isabel let loose such a torrent of profanity and with the last of her diminished strength she lunged at the girl. Mizore had been with Raidon and it was Raidon who led to the death of her friends. He killed Roland. She just wanted someone to blame. Isabel wanted to blame someone who wasn't herself. She was no match for the people already on her who were only momentarily caught off guard by her sudden burst of energy. She was flattened, face pushed hard against the wood, scraping. A sharp little feeling pricked her and in fifteen seconds she was out.


You are being punished. You haven’t learned anything, have you?


She woke up somewhere white. So dizzy. She couldn’t form any train of thoughts other than “Hospital. Bad. Run.” She didn’t remember why it was or where she was supposed to run but the feeling was there strong, so she ripped the tubes attached to her. She swung out of bed and shakily stood, almost falling several times. Isabel took a deep breath and stumbled forward. She made it to the door and leaned out, trying to get the hallway into focus. Someone shouted and pointed. They saw her. She lurched forward and made it a few steps down the hall until someone caught hold of her. They returned her to the room and she was out again.



Isabel opened her eyes. It was very bright wherever she was. Her instinct was to cover her eyes but she found she couldn’t. Her arms were strapped to the bed at the wrist, as were her legs at the ankles. She struggled and strained against the restraints and groaned. Someone had bandaged her arm; both her ankles where the cuts had been and she could feel a bandage on her right cheek. Isabel gave up trying to escape her bonds and lay back down. In the corner of the room she could see her bag and her old clothes. They brought her to a hospital like she’d specifically asked for them not to. How many days had she been out?

Someone was undoing the straps. A nurse looked down at her and smiled.

"Are you gonna behave, honey?"

Isabel tried to speak and some gravely garble came out.

"You've got a visitor," she said, motioning to the left. Isabel tried to move her head and winced painfully from the bruises on her neck.