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party wurmple never sleeps. only dances.
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It wasn’t going to get easier.

As Alice slowly stood up and Sandra went to throw up a few feet away and the speakers crackled to life, like a Frankenstein’s Monster that was revived every morning, Bryony felt a familiar sinking feeling in her stomach, an alert system telling her to prepare for the worst.

What was it she had been thinking earlier? That she, that Bryony Adams, was supposed to hear all the familiar names on the announcements and just break down and give up all hope? It was always hard not to do that. Whenever she heard the name of someone she’d shared classes with at school or had been able to rely on as a friendly face amongst the list of the killers and the killed, it felt like a series of punches to the gut, knocking her to the ground, trying to keep her down and out permanently.

This morning the punches started early and didn’t let up.

Nadia had killed herself. Bryony didn’t understand why. She had looked healthy and confident and prepared to keep herself alive just a few days ago. What had happened to her to cause her to give up hope just like that? What had happened to turn her into who Bryony had been on the first day?

It suddenly struck Bryony that hardly anyone she had encountered on the island so far was confirmed to be alive. Bradley and Bridgette had been killed in front of her. Henry, Tara, Nadia and Arthur had all died since she’d met them. The thief on the beach and the boy at the docks, she had no clue about. That left Coleen, Caedyn and Kimiko, all of whom were killers.

And Alba. Alba who was now on that list as well.

It felt as though the world around her had turned to mist. It was if all her senses had ceased to function, as if nothing existed around her anymore, as if Sandra and Alice were mere figures in the distance. The person she had been searching for since their second day on the island was now a killer. No matter how she tried to look at it, or rationalise it, that fact just kept on repeating over and over again in her head.

Slowly, Bryony walked over towards the huge willow, sitting down with her back against the trunk, nestled amongst the roots. There was dew on the grass and dirt underneath her legs, but she didn’t even notice as she curled up, as if she was trying to hide herself from the world. She looked at the grass for a few moments, before she spoke, voice quiet and hollow.

“There’s… there’s got to be a reason… some reason, right? Kaitlyn had… she’d killed someone before, maybe that person had been friends with Alba or… or… or something… right?”


"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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Tea Party with Death at Dawn · Crematorium Gardens