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personification of adhd
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It turned out that Jacob was right in his suspicions. They weren't really suspicions more than pieces of knowledge that required some correct application, but it was...a feeling that he couldn't really describe to get some confirmation that the people he was now sharing residence with weren't hardened killers, nor conspirators who rightfully set out to decieve Jacob. It was just an accident. It couldn't have been as clear cut as that in reality, obviously, since he knew that people weren't as simple as books made them out to be. Tony had motivation. Colin had motivation. Tim also shared the same motivation as Colin, and...this was the same motivation that saved him from killing himself all that time ago. How long was it ago, really?

But Tim was right. There was no point focusing on the 'if's'. It was all about the here and now, and the situation, here and now, was that Jacob was being silent in a time which desperately required a voice.


Jacob really tried to come up with something on his first try, but all that came up was a cough, a wheeze. Second time was the charm though.

"...if that's what happened, Colin...then I can't see any reason why it's your fault. If...you couldn't have known what was going to happen, then I don't see how you can blame yours-"

...damn, Colin was good.

Paige was dead. Acceptance was the first stage to recovery. And it was the last stage of grief, he'd rocketed through those the moment the bang registered in his eardrums. If he could get past the grief, and just remain a mourner until God sorted them all out, as the saying went, then...he could survive here, really.

It would be an existance, a survival. But a life? He'd have to work on that from the bottom up.

Managing a weak smile at Colin, he stood up, the familiar twang still twanging away.

"...you guys are all I have now. My friend's out there somewhere, and if I know him, I know he's not dead. I haven't died, so he knows the same for me. If we can find him, find our group of friends..." Jacob started, before trying his best to forget that Reiko was still technically his friend, killer/murderer or not "And then...and then I suppose we can work it out from there, however it goes, I s'pose."

The waves weren't registering as a sound anymore, but they were becoming part of him, part of his ears. This was something he had to resolve.

"I dunno how long you guys have been here, but I reckon this beach's seen enough of my ugly mug for the last day or whatever. I...I dunno if it's still there, but I left my bag in the town. My stuff's probably gone, but...well, I don't think you'd wanna share your stuff with me for the next week or so, I'm a big eater. So you've got maps, don't you? You lead, and I'll follow."

Trying his best to work up his signature cocky smile, he picked up his cap from the sand, adjusted it so it faced forward on his head, and dropped a little something from his pocked into a small hole he'd been drilling with his foot, backwards and forwards.

"That sounds like the word, doesn't it?" Colin directed towards Tim. His words didn't accurately reflect the tone of his voice, still trying to find its way up through his throat like a worm trying to burry it's way out of the ground. He meant to try and put on a show of confidence, but what came up instead was a show of mild fake enthusiasm, as transparent as a glass of water.

Still, at least they'd know he was okay. Mourning, but okay.
Edited by Brackie, Dec 12 2010, 07:19 AM.
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I can't sing but I wrote you a song

Wrong notes but the melody's so clear

When I'm lost, I'm still close to gold

cause I found my treasure in you
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Youth and Beauty Brigade · The Beach: North