"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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Ruggahissy
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Prince
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Mary-Ann stood, shell shocked, looking down at the dead blonde girl. So pretty before, but now she was bloodied and cold. Acacia mourned her friend and then quick as lightening, she ran off.

"Hey, hey wait!" she called out. Nothing. Mary-Ann sighed.

Thea was still with Charlie saying her good byes. Mary-Ann suddenly felt very awkward being there. It was like she was listening in on someone's private conversation. She bit her lip and shifted a little. Then it seemed Thea remembered her.

"Uh, that's okay. I've got a gun already," she said, holding up her pistol. Mary-Ann was over come by a creeping horror. The dead girl in front of her reminded her that she was on an island that was littered with her dead classmates. It was easy to forget sometimes and focus on her personal loss. Other dead people besides R.J. sort of passed by her until now. She sort of wanted to throw up.

She was telling Thea she already had one like someone offering her napkins at a picnic. That's what they were supposed to be doing; eating at the camp ground on their senior trip. That was gone. Everything was gone. That reality didn't exist anymore, only this one. It was really weird for her to imagine that maybe in some other parallel universe the other Mary-Ann was roasting hot dogs on a camp fire.

How long ago did the two realities split? Was it the second they stepped onto the bus? Maybe it was before that. Maybe it started all the way back in school when they were asked everyone to have their $20 and permission slip in to their homeroom by the end of the week for the senior trip.

Maybe there was no other way and this was destined from the second they were all born.

If the place I want to go back to doesn't exist anymore, is it really worth it to try so hard to go back?

It was a disturbing question. She pushed it out of her mind and tried to think only of being the toughest version of herself she could be. She knew if she thought too long she might not keep going.

"You okay, Thea?"
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Everyday is like Sunday · Southern Cliffs