"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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Hallucinojelly
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God was telling you "not yet".
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G028: Langford, Leila - Start

Her mind was broken. The things she'd seen... oh, my, the things the girl had seen.

Having been one of the first to awaken in that hall, she was also, of course, one of the first to scream. She wasn't like a lot of the others, she'd only ever heard of SOTF in passing conversations she'd had with her parents, when they were concerned about her safety. She'd dismissed it entirely, stating it was nothing more than a prank, and if her parents believed it was real, that kids were actually on an island somewhere killing each other as they spoke, then they were living in a fairytale. There was no way anyone would let that kind of thing happen, so thinking that the students at Bayview, of all places, would get kidnapped was beyond a joke.

But then she fell asleep. Then she woke up. Then she saw every one of her classmates strapped down to chairs and benches with armed soldiers watching from every corner of the room. Then she saw her teachers try to resist. Then she watched, screaming, as their blood sprayed furiously across the terrified people around them. If she could, she would have never stopped screaming, but having a gun pointed directly at your face works surprisingly well at making your voice disappear.

Forced to watch the video being played out in front of them, she screamed again as the boy on the screen stabbed his girlfriend, her eyes losing all their shine as the life was drained out of her. She remembered feeling sick at that point, knowing full well that this was much more than a joke, that this was real and happening to her right now. She was a contestant on SOTF, one of many, and that meant she was about to live out the worst moments of her life right here, right now.

Cradling her daypack, she sat in the cold light of dawn with her stilettos clutched tightly in her hands. She'd attempted to walk in them after getting used to her surroundings, but the ground was rugged and plant-life grew wildly around the fun fair, leaving her with no choice but to remove them at once, lest she cracked open her head. For now, she just wanted to rest, to make sense of everything that had happened, but whenever she tried to think she was immediately brought to tears by the image of her teachers dying. It played over and over in her head, like a terrible recording, and for the past hour it had paralyzed her.

When she initially awoke, sprawled out beneath the Ferris wheel, she couldn't recall any of the time spent getting here, even going as far as thinking she'd simply had one too many the night before and got herself lost. After taking a good look around, however, she quickly realized that she was nowhere near St.Pauls anymore, and all the memories of the bus trip and the "introduction" to the game came back to her as forcefully as they had entered.

Now, she simply sat, trembling and afraid, with her mascara running down her face and the layer of foundation she'd had on almost gone now after hours spent asleep with her face in the dirt. Her breath had yet to return to normal, with her constant crying having worn her out, and soon enough she began to feel the need for a drink as her throat grated with every gasp she took. Water could wait though. Though she may have been handling the daypack like a lost child she'd just found, the thought of opening it up and finding a machete inside was something she didn't want to acknowledge.

This was her last defense - if she opened up the bag and saw the weapon inside she'd know that there was nothing left to convince her that this could all have been a joke. The deaths of the teachers? All the blood and the violence? Easy to fake. She'd seen it herself, after all, whenever Violet would make them film a scene wherein one of them had to get brutally murdered, and if this was on television, well, they would have had a much bigger budget to use for special effects. But if she opened her daypack and found a weapon inside, if she could cut herself with it and draw her own blood... then she'd know that this wasn't pretend. She'd know, finally, that this wasn't a joke. Whatever awaited her inside that daypack could only mean terrible things for her, and she wasn't ready to face them. Not just yet.

"Hello?"

She froze.
Hello again.
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