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Viewing Single Post From: Until all our yesterdays are lighted fools...
Maraoone
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yes thomas why
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Olivia looked for a foundation, and all she found was air. Just hot, dense air hanging between each and every word both Alan and Kaitlyn said. She looked for something to hold on to, like a blind man without a cane, and all they gave her was smoke. She looked for hope, and all they gave her was doubt. And she didn't need air or smoke or doubt, she needed this 'maybe' to become a 'definitely', she needed an escape so that she wouldn't have to look in her bag again, so that she wouldn't see that she was girl number 62, that there were at least 61 more girls on this island with her, more Irenes and Hannahs and Kaitlyns and more variables that weren't variables but her classmates, she needed, she needed substance, words with actual meaning.

And instead of telling her what they would do, how she could never face another camera again, they just acted like some other collar, restricting, laying out all their can'ts. You can't go to the bell tower, you can't float out on a boat. She knew that. And so what? What, what does that have to do with escape, what have they thought up, have they thought up a single plan, have they thought at all? She needed them to tell her the what's and when's and how's of this because if they didn't have that, then, then...

What would she do?

So, she held tight to Hannah, whisper-shouted, "Wait." And she shook her head to herself, cause this was stupid, so stupid, like phantom guilt and flipping the bird and hot air, just so stupid, such a stupid plan. But she stayed because she still had a maybe to hold onto, like, maybe there was something of substance beneath all the bluster. She looked at Alan, and said, "But how? How do you expect to get weapons?" And she closed her eyes for a bit because getting weapons meant they would have to- stop it Olivia, breathe- and she inhaled, and said, "And, and what are you going to do about this?"

And she hoped.
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G062 - Olivia Fischer prayed a thousand prayers in Ye Not [37/107]
Previous Threads: Sæglópur - Until all our yesterdays are lighted fools... - the way to dusty death - a concrete cave - I'd Say That I've Had Worse Days, but Then I'd Be Lying - Get Me Away From Here, I'm Dying - Until Then, You Are Free - Cast in the Name of God
Memories: Sometimes when we reach for the stars...
Weapon: Lobotomy pick.

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