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Is in some state of existence
[ *  *  *  * ]
Dancing wasn't his thing anyway, and he merely looked on as the song played on. It didn't feel like a dancing song, anyway, and he didn't know the lyrics, so he might as well let the ones who enjoyed it have their fun.

And besides, their fun was infectious enough, and he found that he had a stupid grin on his face by the time they were done, one that almost made up for being left out of things.


Sleep was a thing that was hard to come by but somehow he'd gotten several hours of it that night. In fact, he'd managed to wake up without his back aching or his legs screaming, or the million other things that had assailed his sleep these last few nights.

Now if only he hadn't managed to wake up at what looked and felt like 3 am in the morning.

Jordan continued to lie there, staring up at the ceiling, wondering what on Earth he was doing.

It was weird how much fun it had been having these last few days.

How he was here laughing and talking and there were people dying outside. There were people dead right outside the door and he had helped put them there.

If he was in school he would be worrying about his finals grades, about that one play still missing everything that wasn't the opening three lines, and a silly monologue, Jacob bugging him to try out a new game or something, and a million other tiny daily worries that had seemed to stop existing for just a little bit.

And yet, it wasn't a good feeling.

Somehow they seemed to loom even larger now that he could do nothing to try to deal with them. There were ways to deal with each and everyone of those worries, and he had plans, little ones, but still plans for most of those. Nothing long term, nothing really bright, but they were there and he was going to tackle his own problems at his own pace.

But now they would be tacked on to the list of problems that would never be solved, along with perennial favorites such as why people had to be such dicks for half their lives.

A sob from beside him.

Was Hazel crying? It sounded like it, and yet it seemed like she was sleeping soundly at the same time. Was it a dream? A nightmare? Some vision that would strike astonishment into the heart of angels?

He couldn't know.

Hazel didn't ever want to show how much things hurt her. He could almost count them, the myraid half-lies that she had told. But he couldn't force someone to be better. To be happy beyond all reason. But she'd let it show once, and now twice and now all he could do was wonder how much more she was suffering than he could ever see, than he could ever imagine.

His hand moved closer to her, unsure if he could or should do anything to help.

He didn't need to decide.

She grabbed his arm, clenched it tightly, tighter than he remembered from when they had first met Alex. It almost hurt, but he couldn't bring himself to wake her up.

She was muttering something, some things he understood and more that he didn't but one name stood out from the rest. He didn't want to have heard it but he had and he could only wish that he hadn't.

He still couldn't understand. He knew, but he could never understand.

He didn't understand any more than he had that day, even though they were sharing a room with a murderer now. The first two murderers that they had met had barely felt like people to him now, more so as they started to fade into memory. Carciatures of what a murderer was meant to be. But Jeremy was different. And yet, Jordan didn't want Jeremy to be different.

If Jeremy wasn't different from Alex, if Jeremy wasn't different from Jay, that meant that-

He had moved slightly, and Hazel seemed to stir at that.

"Sorry." The words were so quiet, that he wasn't sure if she'd heard them. "Go back to sleep."

She looked at him for a brief moment, confusion clear in her eyes, then he guessed she realised what she had done, and she let go of his arm with a quiet apology.

He went back to sleep too after that, feeling just a little emptier.


Morning arrived and the moment that they had all been dreading arrived.

Junko was dead, confirming absolutely everything and nothing. Jeremy looked shocked, as if he didn't believe his name would be read out loud on the announcements, as if they'd somehow forget him out of everyone on the island who had killed yesterday.

But they hadn't and he couldn't understand why Jeremy would ever be shocked by something so obvious.

Nancy and Alvaro were dead too. Other names too, Astrid, Maria, killer or not, nice or not, more dead classmates joining the ever growing pile.

A real surprise came at the end though, Jeremy's name again, but it wasn't another death to his name. Not that getting nominated for "Best Kill" was much better.

What did the terrorists mean by best anyway? Goriest? Most dramatic? Did they have stupid voting systems like the Oscars? It was almost nonsensical, really.

Jeremy wanted to get his award. He didn't care, really. There was food, anyone would want to get it. And maybe some part of him wanted some of that food too. But he wasn't about to tell Jeremy that.

"I guess." Jordan replied.

Jeremy simply told them to meet on the far side of the bridge. Wait. No he'd said west hadn't he. Which way was west? It was on the bridge at least. And it wasn't as if it was all that far. They'd work it out when they got there.

Jeremy left after that, and it wasn't long before he was out of sight from the door.

"So, how much do you think we can trust him?"
Edited by Randomness, Mar 19 2017, 11:34 PM.
"I have the heart of a young boy. I keep it in a jar on my desk" -- Stephen King

Those no longer with us

It's the Grand Map of Doom! v6
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