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Viewing Single Post From: When the Bite Just Isn't Sharp Enough
Dr. Nic
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How cute.
[ *  * ]
[Girl #101 - Sofia Martelli. Start.]

Merry go round and around and around

Her head was spinning, still reeling from the shock of what had just happened just a short while earlier. She saw everything that happened, screamed when her teachers were cut down before her in a hail of lead rain, cried her eyes out and couldn't believe any of it was really happening. She remembered one thing very vividly, the strongest memory she had of the final moments before everything slipped from sight and sound, sliding into darkness as she was no doubt drugged once again; She had prayed. With all her might and with the last conscious breath in her body, she prayed loud and long, calling out to the god that her parents insisted on worshiping. She hadn't prayed like that in years, not since her great-grandmother died in the nursing home or her great-uncle succumbed to cancer; She wasn't religious, she didn't pray day in and day out for good things to happen or fortune to befall her.

It was such a silly thing before...

But despite all her beliefs, her skepticism and cynicism, all those remarks she had made when discussing the subject with her sisters; Despite all of that, she had broken down and prayed to something she so vehemently denied believing in. It was such a silly, small little thing before, nothing that really came to mind nor bothered her; It was just one of those things everyone goes through, deciding what your faith would be, if any. But now, after everything that had happened, after being taken from all that was familiar and safe and secure and just plain happy, after being put into this game with nothing to look forward to besides pain and death and sorrow and the metallic taste of blood. And to make it worse, they expected her to participate, to fight for her survival with the weapon they had provided her, to bring down her own special brand of lead death upon her classmates; She had one answer to that.

"Fuck you."

She spat the words at the nearest camera, pointing the thick hollow tube of lead at the mechanical device. But those were far from the last words she would speak to the cameras, far from the last she had to say about the people behind this and what they expected of her. Daddy's little girl was pissed, that much was certain; The sorrow and sadness of what they had been forced into, the feelings of dread and fear, the sickness in her gut, and most of all, the infuriating point of feeling sorry for herself, it had all passed. All that was left in its wake was anger, rage, and a furious little girl with a thick metal rod and something to say.

"Fuck you, Danya. I swear, right here, right now, that if I make it out of this, I'm going to personally drive my caddy as far up your ass I can get it. And then? I'm going to make you eat this gift you gave me. Got it? Good."

Oh, she was far from finished, but everything she had left to say could just as easily be said while she was walking. With an eye locked on that camera, she grabbed her bags, slung them unto her back and decided upon a direction to start walking, with a little help from the compass that she quickly returned to the bag. Before she set off, she searched her path, looking for another camera; If they wanted a show, she'd give them one, spotting her goal and setting out on her chosen route. She had a sudden desire to break down again, just as she had in the auditorium, to close her eyes and pray as hard as she could; But why should she do that if she didn't believe her own words with a clear mind. What good would it do now anyways, when there was nothing she could do to stay the hand of god if he wished to strike her down like this. Why should she fall to her knees and pray, and wait for something to happen to save her from this fate?

Why should I wait for nothing to wait for?

"Y'know, I've been thinking, sitting there for as long as I had been. And I've come to a realization that no one is going to save me, not my family, or my friends, or even the lord almighty. I choose the way to go, but the road won't set me free; No, if I want to get out of this, I have to make the way myself, don't I?"

If I get out of this.

The words played through her mind again, the words she chose as the first ones to utter in her tenure on this god forsaken island. It may have been a mistake, choosing those words, now that she thought back; It conjured up thoughts of failure, of not being able to achieve what she sets out to do, of not surviving this challenge set before her. She didn't want to think about it, and didn't want those thoughts to be any where near the forefront of her mind, pushing them aside and forcing them back. She didn't want anything else to come back to her, not sorrow or fear or panic; She wanted to keep this anger, this fueling rage, for as long as she could. She knew it would be the only thing that would help her stay alive, that if she gave in again, if she let go and cried until her eyes were bloodshot and sore, it would all be over; If she didn't stay strong enough to cut her own path, someone else would, and theirs may end up going right through her.

As she walked, without even realizing it, she had moved her hand up to her hair and begun to caress the pin that held her hair in the state it was; The feel of the old chrome, the twisted and bent pieces of metal long since set in their form and function, it was comforting to escape with it, to think of where it came from. She'd give everything she had to be back home now, to sit in the seat of her car once again and just relax into a new leather seat. She closed her eyes, clutching the ornament in her hand as she breathed deeply, reliving the moments long passed; The feel of the wheel in her hands, the caress of the seat behind her, the deep satisfaction as she turned the key and listened to the engine roar to life. Opening her eyes and letting her hand fall back to her side, she stopped; Looking at the camera, the serious, stern look upon her face melted away, leaving a smile that lasted little more than a moment in its wake.

"Are you watching, Dad? Keep it safe for me. I'll come back. I promise."

And as fast as it came, the smile was gone from her face as if it had never been there, a biting glare and a thin lipped snarl replacing it.

"And Danya..."

She wanted to spit out another comment, to throw another venomous dose towards the ever present eye of the man in charge, but no words came to mind, nothing filled her throat, and try as she might, she couldn't force it. So she turned away from the camera, silently flipping it off, and continued down her chosen road; She didn't know where she would end up, or what would happen when she got there, but it was her path by choice, and she wouldn't let anyone keep her from it. Not Danya, not his people, not the trees or the cameras upon them nor the people that the nearing voices belonged to. She heard them, barely making them out enough to tell who they belonged to. But they were in the way of her path; She would need to make a choice soon, as the silhouettes came ever closer, as her legged carried her ever further into the darkness.

"Fuck fear."


"Fuck worry."



"Fuck panic."




"Fuck prayer."





"And most of all, Fuck Danya!"
Edited by Dr. Nic, Sep 2 2010, 03:13 AM.
Boy #??? - Joshua Edwards
Hanging out somewhere, playing his heart out.
Writer and local retail slave at the comic book store.

Girl #??? - Viktoriya "Vika" Starikova
Floating in the void, unfinished and half-formed.
Hot headed member of the soft ball team, secretly wishing she could fly.

Those who were
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