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Viewing Single Post From: A Solitude That Asks Nothing In Return
MK Kilmarnock
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Hate, hate, HATE!!!
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The waves rolled in and rolled back out again, never letting anything in the way of their constant, peaceful motion. The sound was practically enthralling. What would being a wave feel like? Would it contain all the helplessness of having your path chosen for you, never to control where you were headed, set for a crash course against the face of some mass of land only to be dragged back out? Or perhaps, would it feel like a rush of phenomenal power, knowing no other force on the planet could stop the energies and way of the world that cause you to be, cause you to act, cause you to carry on.

Ivan sat at the forest's edge, envying the waves.

Ivan Kuznetsov, Male Student no. 082 Start

He hadn't moved very far from where he had woken up a short while ago. A few grains of sand still persistently clung to the back of his head and neck, despite him having wiped the irritating substance away to the best of his ability. The thin strip of beach on which Ivan had found himself was now disappearing, currently losing an ebbing, flowing battle against the tide, which proceeded to gain more and more territory. He had moved back aways, now sitting on the edge of the woods with his back pressed against a rough-barked tree. He hadn't uttered so much as a single word since awakening on the island, and there was no point. The tree did not have ears; the waves did not have cares.

As he longed to lead that simpler life enjoyed by the water, many things were running through Ivan's head. Why was this happening to them? Why Bayview? Louis once told him something about Survival of the Fittest, but Ivan could not bear to bring himself to try and remember much. Any lingering thought or memory of home was causing him a lot of immense pain right now. On this island, his captors expected him to kill his classmates. There was a very, grim possibility that Ivan was not going home, and he knew it. He couldn't allow the trembling of his body to show, however. There was nobody around him, and he wanted to keep it that way, but he had no way of knowing if a camera was near or not. He didn't see any, but he was sure that he was being seen.

Maybe, just maybe, a camera really was watching him. And on the chance it was, again... maybe. Maybe Louis would be watching from home. Ivan swallowed his spit at the thought, and he shut his eyes, allowing his ears to take over and listen for the crashing of the waves.

Louis... I hope you can understand if your big brother can't fight for a chance to see you again. But it's too stupid. I just want to stay away from everybody else. Stay out of the way. If I die, I would much rather die alone than have some... punk... standing over my corpse with even the slightest air of triumph. But... Mom... Aunt Vera, Louis... if I could bring myself to do it, just for a chance to treasure you more than I did, I would. I really, really would.

Ivan sighed and opened his eyes. He dropped them from the waves, just for a moment, to look at the daypack resting by his side. He had already taken a look at it as soon as his dizziness had warn off. He searched all through the bag for a weapon of some sort, as promised, but only found what seemed to be basic supplies: a flashlight, an umbrella, a first aid kid...

Wait... nobody said anything about an umbre-

...

...

Real cute, Danya. Real fucking cute.
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A Solitude That Asks Nothing In Return · The Woods: Coastal