"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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xylophonefairy
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((Helen Wilson continued from Surgical Interventions))

Bent double, she might not have even done the surgery, her gait was exactly the same. Only this time, the pain was worse. The local anaesthetic and adrenaline had worn off a hour ago, and ever since then, she had been in agony. Clutching at the bleeding sutures, she kept struggling forwards. If you get to the boat, then you will live. Her head swam with the pain, it was unlike anything she had ever experienced. Helen had spent her entire life trying to avoid pain, and here she was, staggering through woodland and scrub bleeding from a cut that she had done to herself. Going north, keeping on going north. She saw nobody, it was like those first three days on the island when she had wandered around the southern wasteland and not seen a soul. Only then she had been glad of it, glad for the time alone to figure out her thoughts, to accept the fact that she might not get home.

You never altered your amused belief that life was a mere monumental sham.

Now, though. Now she could really do with some help. Someone to give her a boost to the beach, help her get there alive. Once she was there, she was struck with the delusion that she was essentially home, struck with the impression that they would be able to do something to save her. They would take her home, and the qualified doctors in the well equipped hospitals would fix up everything that she had done to her insides, and she would go to Stanford in the Fall and one day repay their kindness by becoming a surgeon herself. And she would save dozens of lives, the way she had failed to while she was here.

There was a thought in her head that she wasn't allowing to surface. Every time she tried to think what it was, another part of her brain, part that she seemed to have lost cotrol over, pushed it back down like a plastic duck bobbing under the water. She knew that if the eye became visible, if it looked at her, she would have to face something that her rational brain was trying to avoid. Instead, she focussed on her surroundings.

A faint swishing. A familiar rushing sound that she'd gotten used to over the last few days, even though it was uncommon to her in her previous life. The sea. And then, a few painful steps further, and the beach. And a boat. A boat. And there were people! People getting on the boat. Collars being removed. Helen stood, swaying at the edge of the sand, watching for a few minutes, feeling an unmisteakeable swell of pride. We did this! I helped to bring these people here! They must have gotten our message! Yesyesyesyes!

She couldn't move. Her legs wobbled when she tried to take a step, and she wondered how long she had been standing there, just out of sight. It could have been seconds, or it could have been hours; she had lost all track of time and space. With a great effort, she took three steps forwards, onto the sand, into view. She raised her right hand in a wave, and a few drops of blood dripped from it in front of her. Helen looked down. Her white tee shirt stained with a gruesome mixture of blood and iodine, a pool around her feet, her jeans and shoes darkened on the right hand side. Behind her, there was a trail of blood that stretched almost the entire way back to the infirmary.

Then she saw the eye of the duck. The eye of the devil.

I'm dying. The thought didn't bother her as much as she had expected to. That was how she knew it was true. She had given up. With unusual grace, she fell into a sitting position, and then pitched herself to one side, shivering violently as deep red blood seeped out to stain the sand.

You didn't tie off the artery.

"Save them," she said in a dry, cracked voice, not sure who it was she was speaking to. If anyone.

Part of her brain tried to counter the inevitable.

No! That's not f-

God only knows what I'd be without you.

G100: HELEN WILSON - DECEASED
Edited by xylophonefairy, Mar 5 2012, 04:09 PM.
the world is on my side
i have no reason to run


v4 nostalgia

shiny shiny V5 concepts (now with clickies)
Phoebe Cho - I shall be playing Mendelssohn's Violin Concerto in E minor. Wizard!
Harry Hanley - I've got Hershey's at half price today! Get 'em quick before I have rehearsal!
Lor Van Diepen - I'm gonna make a video later. About running. Does that sum me up enough?
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The Cavalry Arrives · The Beach: North