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party wurmple never sleeps. only dances.
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Bryony was smart enough to realise that Bradley was messing with her. Taking advantage of the fact that they were about to leave and the fact her words were so easily twisted to fit his own narrative. She hoped he was just trying to rile her up, and that he wasn’t going to smoke again; she could feel a cough building up in the back of her throat from the remnants of his first cigarette. If Bradley did end up continuing to smoke as they moved on, then she was… well… um…

Odds were, she wasn’t going to do a single thing. Just meekly accept it, as well as the rest of Bradley’s taunts and snide jibes. She didn’t dare do anything to provoke him. She was scared of the guy back at school where he was, relatively, harmless. Now, he was even more terrifying. He had a weapon, he had potential motivation to harm and murder, and he was… unnervingly similar to how he had been back home. He was still cracking jokes, still not taking anything seriously, still being… Bradley. It was like he’d stepped off a boat directly onto some docks by a sandy beach.

Of course, maybe he wasn’t quite the same old Bradley. Not inside. She could say the same thing about herself, after all. Outside, maybe she still appeared to be the same old Bryony. Inside, that was still absolutely there; the shy, quiet girl who just wanted people to like her. But maybe, at home, if something awful had happened to her, she would have broken down and given up, run to her room and smothered her tears with her pillow. Here though, she needed to keep on pushing. Keep on moving on. Whatever it took. Even if it was just one step at a time. Even if it was just one faint ray of hope in the distance. She had to try and walk towards it.

The others were heading off, but Bryony took one last look back at the beach. It was quite gorgeous, really, now that she had a moment to think about that. The rippling waves, the sunlight reflecting off the water, the birds flying low, occasionally dipping down into the sand dunes. Maybe, some day in the very far future, she’d be able to visit somewhere like this again. Maybe she could believe that would come true.

Bryony turned back to look at Bradley’s retreating figure, let out a little sigh, then hitched her bag up on her back and headed off with him and Alba.

Because once again, it was the only choice that had been presented to her, and she couldn’t pass up any opportunity out here.

((Bryony Adams continued in This Be The Verse.))


"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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