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Viewing Single Post From: V4 Epilogue: Peace Accords
MurderWeasel
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That boy needs therapy!
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July 19, 2008

Learning to play again is a bitch. Kimberly is lying on her bed, old acoustic guitar in hand, just like she used to on lazy days, but everything's going wrong. The guitar is tuned, sure, but the notes aren't coming out right. Her left arm is still fucked in troublesome ways. The callouses on her fingers have worn down some, and her coordination is shot. Changing chords is slow, and she's having trouble pressing the strings hard enough to produce proper notes rather than buzzing.

Her left arm and shoulder has decided to act up more than any other time in the past few days. This level of activity has been enough to irritate things, to get her aching again. The doctors have told her that shoulder injuries are very serious. They've told her nothing with the shoulder is ever exactly perfect again, even with stuff less serious than a gunshot. They've told her she'll probably be hurting on and off for the rest of her life.

The songs are also giving her trouble. For some of them, she's simply forgotten the notes. Others are trickier. Songs about war and killing don't seem so simple now. Slamming out a chorus about the hollowness of violence brings with it a little too much personal feeling.

All in all, rediscovering her music is enough of a pain in the ass to make her want to just say fuck it all and quit. The only reason she doesn't is that she's not willing to lose something else. The game has already stolen more than enough from her.
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