"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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MurderWeasel
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Somehow we drifted off too far...
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Erik offered to help work on her arm. Sweet of him. Something she'd take him up on, too. She'd kept it as clean as she could, changed her bandages until she ran out, made sure to keep the dirt away. Sarah's stitches had held pretty well, too. Maybe they should come out here at some point. Fuck if she knew. It wasn't like she'd ever complete the healing process. It was nothing but a delaying tactic.

Erik seemed all embarrassed, though, shaken and such. Maybe it was his movements. They'd made her start a little, but a good number of things did these days. He kept talking, though, trying to move things along, to cover up. Kimberly let him ramble, let him dig his little pit. It wasn't even malice at this point, just force of habit. She liked Erik. He didn't deserve to flounder in embarrassment forever. Maybe that was why she spoke. Maybe she just needed to share. She couldn't tell. Didn't care.

"It's okay. Been a few days for me, too. Last time someone died in my lap." Too much information, probably, but, hey, she wasn't here to be nice. He'd tough it out. She wouldn't force him into responding, though.

"Brook got him. He's crazy. Built a shrine or some shit. Lots of crazy people here. I met Liz Polanski, you know. She was crazy too, but maybe in the right way."

She rubbed her head. Fucking sunburn. She even had sunscreen, back in her real bag, the one from home. It was still lying on the beach, probably, unless someone had stolen it. Since the beaches were now permanent danger zones, it'd be staying there. She was pretty sure she'd left her notebook in it, now that she thought about it. She'd been working on some poems, real angsty shit about her family and the world. Pointless now.

"But I'd appreciate it if you looked at my arm."

She turned, presenting him with a better angle. She was glad Bridget had cut the sleeve from her sweater. It made things so much easier. Not that she wouldn't have traded all that convenience for the opportunity to give the other girl a good smack. So many unpaid debts. So many bad people here. It was almost too much sometimes.
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Burn On · The Mountain