"We tried to be better, but we aren't. I don't think anyone could last more than a week here if they weren't willing to do bad things." - Alba Reyes

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Viewing Single Post From: Could Have Been Worse
Jonny
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You hate kings and you think kings are really stupid. They are petty, bossy tyrants and are really full of themselves and are basically awful in every way.
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So many words, back and forth and back and forth, so many words said and none of them said to her. And so she started to feel smaller, and smaller, until she was hardly there at all. This was a mistake. This had been a huge, huge mistake.

This wasn't how it went at all. Open arms, open hearts, tell a joke and crack a smile and Charlie's part of the group now. She belongs now. And if that weren't enough, she can help them. She can tell them some things that, if someone with a fully working brain hears them, might get them off the island. Isn't that worth something? That's got to be worth something. Something. Anything.

It wasn't worth shit. Aaron and Jacquard were just going back and forth about... about... well, honesty time. Charlie had barely heard a word the two of them were saying. Because it didn't matter, it didn't matter, whatever fucking stupid pissing contest this was didn't matter. And it sure as fuck didn't matter enough to distract the rest of the group enough that they weren't even fucking noticing Charlie.

She waved her hands a little.

Nobody was looking.

And who could blame them? Charlie wasn't part of the group. She was... someone else. Someone scared, someone desperate, someone altogether trying a little too hard. She was too little, too late, too far removed from these people and their group. Should've tried a little earlier, Charlie. Should've tried a few days ago.

Or better yet, should've stuck with the group you had.

Remember those guys? They were good. They were good. They were a solid group, and they looked out for each other, and they were doing good things. And you had to run. You had to abandon them. Because you didn't trust them to stay quiet, or something. After several hours of them staying quiet. You still ran. You still ran and you never came back.

And it was hard, right now, to decide which was scarier to ask. Was it Could I find them again?, or was it Would they take me back even if I did? It hurt to ask, and it hurt even more to answer, but it was all she could think of right now. All she could think of as long as she was in this fucking place. With these fucking people.

Them and their ways. Them and their problems. Their problems. Not hers.

So maybe she ought to just fuck off. Try again somewhere else, with someone else, keep trying till she succeeded. Or maybe just.... stop. Maybe take this as a lesson. Spend her last days as a recluse. Yeah, maybe... maybe that wouldn't be so bad. If this was the alternative. Banging against locked doors in a howling tempest... it sucked. There was no poetic way to say that last part. It sucked.

So let it out, Charlie.

“Oh, fucking... just stop. Whatever this bullshit it is, I don't care, just... fucking drop it. All of you.”

And she looked behind her. And she sighed.

“Look, maybe I should just go. And you guys can... work all this out. I've obviously stumbled on... something. So.”

And she took a few steps back.

But she was going pretty slowly. Why was that?
Edited by Jonny, Mar 13 2011, 02:33 AM.
Jeremy Franco is alive. You can write a better ending, goddammit.

Charlie DuClare is dead. And nothing was easy anymore except to smile.
Julian Avery is dead. Courage was the man with a gun in his hand.
JJ Sturn is dead. Fuck it, all good things gotta come to an end.
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