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Pippin
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party wurmple never sleeps. only dances.
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Sometimes, it felt like the entire universe was conspiring against Mia.

She was a naturally happy, cheerful, peppy girl, who just wanted to enjoy herself and make everyone she cared for happy as well. She wanted to live out her days doing what she loved, and what she was good at. She knew she could make a career out of it. Everyone who knew her had said she had the ability to become a professional swimmer, or a soccer player, or any sort of athlete she wanted to be.

It could never be that easy, though. She wanted to eschew her studies to focus on sports when both society, and her family, expected her to continue her academic career for as long as possible, and judged her for not being successful at them. People expected her to be happy and cheerful all the time, and she knew far too many people who would shun her rather than help her on the rare occasions that the stress of schoolwork became too much to handle. She was a girl that liked boys and girls and everyone else in-between, in a world that still struggled to accept that guys could like guys.

Even further on in her life, one single event managed to make her terrified of something would affect her for the rest of her life. She’d had to flake out of so many gatherings over the years; all the barbecues she’d had to make up excuses to avoid, the bonfires and firework events she’d spent doing her best to find somewhere safe and out of the way, the sleepovers where she’d watch films hidden under a blanket for half of them. Smoke, in any form, was enough to send her into a cold sweat and hurtling towards panic. So many things she’d missed out on, all because of the events of one single evening.

She barely needed to mention Survival of the Fittest. If that wasn’t a sign that there was some God or Goddess up there that just wanted to fuck with her, then she wasn’t sure what else was.

And just now, after Mia had felt like she’d managed to patch things up with Candice, after she’d finally felt like she had done something useful on the island, hell, after she’d almost managed to convince herself that escape wasn’t just a pipe dream, that it was a viable way out of this nightmare, this girl had just appeared and brought all that fear and panic crashing back down again.

The packet of tissues bounced against Mia’s leg and onto the bed beside her, but she barely noticed, staring up at Scout with a mix of confusion and anger. She knew the other girl wasn’t trying to actively hurt them, but Christ, she’d managed to do so anyway. Sometimes you just had to lie a little to make things alright, or say things you didn’t necessarily believe in; all she’d wanted to do was give Candice a little bit of hope, to make herself look like she could be trusted and relied upon. And then this girl had waltzed in and told them to ‘hope for the best, prepare for the worst’.

Mia knew she was right, of course she was right. But it wasn’t what she needed to be told right now. She stared at the empty doorway where Scout had been, eyes empty and looking at nothing. It was only when she felt the stream of blood trickle down over her lip again that she broke out of her reverie.

Sometimes it felt like the universe was out to get her, but Mia had never let that get her down. She’d kept pushing forwards, kept who she was, hadn’t let any obstacle bring her down completely. People and things had tried to stop her before, her own brain included. She’d fucked things up before. But everyone did, now and again. She’d fucked things up with Candice, but that didn’t mean she was a fuck up herself.

“Starting everything over, huh…”

Mia mumbled under her breath as she ripped open the packet of tissues, wiping her nose with one and stuffing the rest into her left-hand pocket. She sniffed once, then a second time. Then she stood up, and looked straight at Candice. Somehow, a small but confident smile had found its way onto her face.

“That sounds like a plan to me,” Mia said. “This place isn’t exactly my style. The whole ‘frat-party-drunken-orgy-aftermath’ doesn’t really suit an Olympic hopeful, y’know?”

She put the gun back in her pocket, hoping it wouldn’t tumble out as they were walking, and stretched her arms up, her back clicking as she did.

“This whole thing… this whole morning… this isn’t me. I’m better than this. So let’s leave this place, and forget it all happened, yeah?”

Mia crouched down to zip her still-open bag back up. Once she’d finished, she looked up at Candice.

“You got anywhere you wanna go? Or should we just… wander and see what happens?”
V7 BAYBEE

FOLDER OF DESTINY

"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
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They say the hangover after you get drugged and kidnapped by terrorists is the worst · The Staff Dormitories B Block