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Viewing Single Post From: A Moth of Peace
Pippin
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party wurmple never sleeps. only dances.
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Try as she might to calm down and breathe and force herself out of this, the tears wouldn’t stop flowing, and Bryony’s sobs refused to cease. She buried her face in her hands, glasses pushed up and tangled in her hair. After a few seconds she felt Alice wrap their arm around her shaking shoulders, and she leaned in against her friend, the comforting, familiar feeling calming her down somewhat, but still not enough to stem the flow of tears.

She couldn’t hear Alice’s words of comfort, and she barely heard her follow up questions over her own sobs, and Sandra’s own line of questioning was similarly muffled. Bryony let out one more stifled cry of despair, before furiously rubbing her eyes, huddling closer to Alice to try and stop herself from shaking so much.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” she mumbled, desperately pawing at her eyes with her sleeves.

It took several more minutes, but eventually, Bryony stopped shaking. Her eyes were red, her throat was sore, and she looked completely miserable, but she had stopped crying for the moment.

“I’m sorry…” She said again, and against all odds, her delicate, sad smile drifted back on to her face. “This is all just… it’s all just so fucking hard… I thought… Some stupid part of me thought that when I found you two, everything… everything would magically become better again…”

Bryony sniffled, and rested her head against Alice’s shoulder.

“It’s not… it’s not gonna get any easier, is it? But we can’t just, um… give up because of that, can we? We’ll… we’ll find a way.”

Her echo of her previous point, whilst quieter and shakier than its origin, contained more conviction and strength than she had thought was within her. She untangled her glasses from her hair, putting them back on the bridge of her nose. She shuffled slightly, now sitting in a cross legged position, hands clasped in her lap. She looked down at them for a moment, before speaking again.

“Yeah, um, I… I met Alba on the first day. She found me on the beach and she… she, um… she asked if I wanted to join up with her. We spent the first two days together, and then she… she ran off. She was looking for Kimiko, and I tried to, um, follow her, but, um… but I couldn’t keep track of her… I haven’t seen her since. I want… I want to find her again. I need to make sure she’s safe, she… I owe it to her…”

Bryony realised her eyes were misting up again, and she quickly dabbed at them. She couldn’t do it, no matter how hard she tried; she couldn’t tell Alice and Sandra that she’d almost killed herself on the first day and that Alba was the only reason she was still alive. It was bizarre. She’d been able to tell Bridgette, a near total stranger, but she couldn’t tell her closest friends about it?

They had both clearly been through enough already, though. She didn’t need to add the mental images of ‘what-ifs’ and ‘what could have beens’ on top of everything else they were no doubt dealing with.

“I don’t know about Gary, though…” Bryony continued, softly. “I haven’t seen him, and I can’t… um, I can’t remember if he came on the trip. I… I hope he’s…”

Bryony stopped herself as she considered her planned ending to that sentence, another hiccupped sob escaping her mouth instead. The more she thought about it, the more she realised that what she’d originally hoped for was the very last thing she wanted to happen to Gary. So, wiping her eyes one more time, she started again, saying the opposite of what she’d originally intended.

“I hope he didn’t come on the trip…”
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