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Viewing Single Post From: The Cries of the Voiceless
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When was the last time Mary Ann had cried like this? She'd shed some tears here on the island, but only now had she dropped everything to have one long session of sobs. Mary Ann really didn't cry very often- being a teenage girl basically guaranteed some tears, but Mary Ann's life had generally kept her content and at peace- until now, of course. She straightened herself out and began to wipe her ey-


Someone had found her. "Shit!" Mary Ann didn't normally curse, but Jesus, was this a time to start muttering such foul things under her breath. Why did I make all that noise oh god oh god oh god-


Something hit the ground. Whoever had the light must have dropped something. A weapon? Did that mean he or she wouldn't use it? Mary Ann hastily stood to view her visitor who still had not spoken or made any attempt to greet her. That doesn't make sense... if they were planning to sneak up on me they wouldn't have shone th- oh no.

She could've been wrong (oh god please be wrong), but... anyone else probably would've attacked or something by now (you don't know this place, it could be anyone)... she slowly staggered towards the figure. The lights were blinding her, but she could see that it was a large, tall person, probably male- (still could be anyone, please be anyone but-)

R.J. Lowe.

She'd almost forgotten about him in all the confusion of this ordeal. She remembered their time together, not long before the end of school- passing notes in algebra and the library, rides home from school on the motorcycle, that night at the movies... how could he be here? Though on the other hand, a large part of her was glad to have found not only a familiar face, but the most familiar of them all- and the rest of her hated that part with a burning passion for wishing such a fate on that face. At this point, she suddenly grew a self-consciousness she hadn't felt in what seemed like forever- Oh god, I must look like hell right now. She could practically see it now- her clothes covered in sweat and dirt, dark rings under her eyes, red blotches from all the tears shed over the past couple days- a tiny part of her tried to convince her that, knowing the nature of this game, he'd just be happy to see her- oh, right. The Game.

He couldn't possibly- I mean, she could never even dream of doing- doing that. But then again, if Danya had been right, there could only be one winner. Even if they were the luckiest- even if it came down to just them- Great, more tears. Come on, don't cry... don't cry, you'll worry him. He's just as scared as you are... Right. As bitter as it was, she had to be happy to see him. Nothing would change the situation, but surely there was no harm in trying to be happy for only a minute, right? These were the thoughts that ran through the head of Mary Ann Warren, as she continued to stagger, open armed, towards the first reminder of home she had found here. Welcome home, Mary Ann.
hi i am a little bee

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The Cries of the Voiceless · The Felled Forest: North