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T-Fox
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N-Nopony! Ah was talkin' to nopony whatsoever!
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((Jackquard "Jackie" Broughten continued from One of Three.))

((OOC: VERY long flashback through day two, as she was stuck in "One of Three" through almost all of September. The current stuff is sectioned off at the bottom.))

Jackie had left from the site of that terrible incident at least a full 24 hours prior. Most of the time between then and now was filled with sleeplessness, pain, and heartache. Her first order of business had been to get as far out of sight of the building as she could. Mostly to remove herself from the other girl's view; but partially to save her own butt on a small subconscious level. In an act of sheer brilliance, the girl had remembered to retrieve her hacksaw from the site before leaving, but at the cost of what little food and materials still lied in her stomach. And as soon as she had collected herself to the point that she could even feasibly realize it, she was famished.

And there she found herself, by the foot of a river. And for the first time in an hour, she looked over her own reflection in that pristine water. The sun reflected off of the occasional fresh tear that dotted her cheeks. Her face was spattered with blood, as well as he neck and her clothing from the attack that took the life of another. The hacksaw dangled gingerly from her almost limp fingers, the shine of fresh red adorning the blade as well. Her jeans were tattered from the thought filled run through the trees and the briers; a run she actually didn't remember. In fact, she didn't remember much. She remembered completing the deed that sealed her fate. She remembered thinking to herself. And then suddenly, she was here.

And so she rested for hours. First, she bathed; a luxury she was sure she wouldn't see again for days to come. The cool waters were refreshing, and thankfully she even had the foresight to bring two changes of clothes in her oversize purse on what was supposed to be a weekend long camping trip. Using her old clothing as a towel, she changed into her new clothing, tossing the old into the river, watching the jeans sink straight to the bottom and the shirt slowly float down river. Almost symbolic in a way. However, that hoodie went straight back on. She needed a reminder of just what killing was, and the sparse bloodstains would serve as just that. As much as it pained her to see them, it would force her to think about her victim every single day that she still drew breath. The hacksaw was washed clean, and then with nothing more pressing to do, she sat.

And the next three hours of her stay at this strangely calm riverbank were spent dipping from thoughtful incite to inconsolable sobbing, and back again. For all intents and purposes, the once Ice Queen of Bayview was now acting as if she were truly Bi-Polar. However by the time dusk began to roll around, she heard what sounded like footsteps. Whether those were imagined or not, she didn't care to find out. Dumping the contents of her purse into her issued Daypack, she tossed the bag into the river and fled down it's banks, the soft mud and dirt serving to soften the sound of her escape.

Next came the attempts at sleep. Really, each session of transit was gone from her memory as she spent so much time thinking; no, arguing with herself. The vision she had had of her innermost being in the millisecond before her victim's death continued to replay itself in her head.

"...The life of another had to be given so that you could understand... And this is the price you will pay... The burden that will hold on your shoulders for the rest of your days..."

The one quote that rang true, over and over. Logic versus emotion; compassion versus the will to live. This was what constantly plagued her right until dusk when she first attempted to sleep. This endeavor proved fruitless for the girl however, as every time she closed her eyes, the scene played itself out again. Either reliving the killing, or just staring at the broken and bloodied form of that poor girl. And when she finally did fall asleep through her body's sheer, pure fatigue, it was very short lived. Dawn had just cracked as a speaker hidden somewhere in the forest or the mountain itself cracked to life.

And it was here that she finally learned the name of that poor girl she had sent to the great beyond.

Jackie mouthed the name to herself, her voice a whisper drown out by more of this announcement. But it was as if she was finally giving the girl respect and mourning long past due.

"Maria... Santiago..."

Not a week earlier and this name wouldn't have meant a thing to Jackie. But here, nestled at the foot of the mountain where she laid, this name was her entire world. This name affected the core of her very psyche. This name unlocked something powerful, something that she had not experienced in over a decade. Emotion. Sorrow, regret, anguish, mourning.

Pain burned in her heart. And restlessness consumed her as she stood, slinging the drab green bag over her shoulder. She knew that three things were now true, and would be until she died. First, that she was a murderer. Second, that she didn't deserve friends, happiness, nor did she deserve to ever see her home again. And finally, that she needed to move. When she moved, it hurt less. While she ran, winds at her back, her mind was slightly more at ease. There was no way she could be forgiven. No way she could forget. She just knew that she needed to move, to make her time more bearable until she inevitably lost the game of which she had become nothing more than a cog.

---((Present Time))---

So walk she did, straight up the mountain. For someone as nonathletic as the girl, the trek took hours upon hours. And as dusk fell upon the girl yet again, her thoughts swimming about in circles, for at least the tenth time that day, sat to rest. But again, rest did not come to her. She laid on the hard, unwelcoming dirt, her lumpy and malformed bag serving as the closest thing to a pillow she had. The sun was just again beginning to rise as she heard a voice coming from below her.

"The exit is right over here!"

How had she not noticed the girl before? Presumably she wasn't alone, but how had she missed this? She must have been lost in thought quite a bit deeper than she thought. And so she laid, listening to the exchange, letting what would happen happen. Jackie had no idea what exit the girl was referring to, but her original hunch was proven correct by a much softer voice following behind. However, after a few moments, one particular phrase caught Jackie's attention to the point where her weary arms forced her sleep deprived and guilt addled body to sit.

“I... I got a big gun in mine. I don’t know how to use one, though and since you’re going to protect me... I mean, if it’s okay... with you, protecting me, that is. You can have it. I trust you."

This girl had gotten a Gun. Something Jackie would have loved to have had two days ago. However, now with the advent of Maria, she wanted to be as far away as these implements of death as she possibly could. Peering over the rock face that seperated her from the other two, she spotted Tiffany. For some reason, this girl's name actually came to Jackie's mind, although she couldn't place where. Her partner however was blocked off by the natural features of the mountain, and soon the weapon was out of her sight. Jackie didn't deserve friends or allies on this island. She deserved to die. But one thing that didn't cross her mind in the countless hours of thought was now on the tip of her tongue. What do I do now?

Approach the pair and beg to be killed?

Approach the pair and beg for forgiveness?

Or just sit and wait here, and hope that the two innocent, frightened people below her would be able to dodge having to see a monster on this day.
Edited by T-Fox, Nov 6 2010, 10:19 PM.
Coming soon to a deathmatch near you:
Garry Brooks - Swave Countryboy
Jade Aurora - Tomboy Drummer
Jasmine Tolle - Pacifistiic Artist

Memories of those past:
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What is wrong with you people?!
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Sunshine, Lollipops and Rainbows... · The Mountain