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He killed someone. Approximately forty dead. More to die in the coming days.

We are responsible for one of them.

A wave of numbness had washed over Mary Ann's entire body, leaving her blank and alone with her thoughts.

What does this mean?

He was a killer when he held me. He was a killer when he promised to take me away from here safely. When he told me he loved me.

He became a killer before I could ever have hoped for a chance to find him. And he will be a killer when we leave.

This is the truth, and nothing can change it.

But the other person- She looked at the page to check- Eva- she shot first, right? That's self-defense, even in the real world he wouldn't be... but it's still killing. It's wrong.

But not here.

Was this what those forty children had thought of as their breaths grew scarce and their last grains of sand slipped through the cracks? Mary Ann rubbed her temples in an attempt to bring her mind further into reality, but she still didn't know how to react. She didn't want to cry, or scream, or stomp her feet- what would even come of it if she did?

She noticed that R.J. still looked at her, waiting for a response- and that was what finally convinced her body to release several streams of tears, shamelessly leaving damp trails on her face.

"I-" She became self-conscious once again at the sound of her voice breaking- "I'm still too scared of being alone to leave... I just wish it didn't have to be like this, you know?"

She buried her face in his leg, once again allowing herself to cry without restraint. During those miniscule morning hours, the only sound that could be heard in that barren field of stumps was that of Mary Ann's futile sobs.
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The Cries of the Voiceless · The Felled Forest: North