"We tried to be better, but we aren't. I don't think anyone could last more than a week here if they weren't willing to do bad things." - Alba Reyes

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((Brendan Harte continued from Aaaaaand he's gone.))

Brendan touched the fence as soon as he got closer to it and he stared out at the ocean. It was getting darker. How he wished that he could just swim away from here. Away from the danger. Away from people who may distrust each other. Away from people who might be planning to kill. Away from people who may have already killed someone. But he couldn't do that. Even if he did want to so desperately. He couldn't let himself be a coward anymore. He had to at least try to find his friends. Or die trying as much as he didn't want to think of that.

It had took him a while to get to the cliffs. Although, he really wanted to get over to where the asylum was. He needed to take a break for the day. Maybe a short nap for an hour or so would help him get rested. What if Maxim was still there in the asylum? Maybe he wasn't. He also wondered if Alba was alright. He wanted to see her again. There were actually a lot of people that he wanted to see. Maybe make a group- No, big groups would possibly make someone paranoid and push them over the edge. It would be worse if they had a gun and started to shoot at people randomly. So that idea was out of the window for Brendan. What about three or four people? Could that work? A smaller group did sound safer. They could have each others' back, share supplies if they needed to, come up with plans of what they should do next.

Brendan nodded to himself and he turned away from the fence. It was the only plan that he had right now. But it was better than nothing. He sat down on the ground in front of the fence and he placed his bag down beside him. He hadn't realized it until now, but he was pretty hungry. He unzipped his bag and he got out one of the bars along with his half-full bottle of water. He grimaced. If he finished the bottle.... Then he would only have three left and that worried him. Would he have to trade some of his belongings with someone? Or would he have to steal from someone? He didn't like the idea of stealing from people. So trading would be his last resort.

Brendan unwrapped his bar and he took a small bite out of it. He found himself pulling a face. It didn't taste that good. But it was still food and he didn't want to starve himself to death. That would be a painful way for him to go and he didn't want to experience it. He chomped down on the bar for a few minutes until he had finished it. Then he took a gulp of water from his water bottle. He wasn't feeling that hungry anymore. Which he felt was like a good thing.

Brendan let out a yawn of exhaustion and he rubbed his eyes with the back of his left hand. Then he felt himself freeze as he could hear someone's footsteps approaching. Was he about to get attacked? Was it a friend? Nadia? Jerry? A bully? He didn't know. He just sat there, not moving his hand from his face and he was holding his breath. He was too afraid to make a sound.
Edited by Primrosette, Sep 26 2016, 07:51 AM.
Their Time Is gone

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Just People In A Messed Up Place · Northwest Cliffs