"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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MK Kilmarnock
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Hate, hate, HATE!!!
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Footsteps patterned themselves across a dusty floor. They traced the edges of bookshelves and sometimes scuffed up in a little pile. Often, one could find a clean rectangular patch on the floor, the only remaining evidence of a book knocked off the shelf that was subsequently placed back to its rightful, or what was hopefully the rightful location.

She heaved a sigh.

((G008 - Coleen Reagan, start))

There was a time for tears. Coleen had enjoyed that time earlier, leaving her face a smudged, caked, still-burnt and gross-feeling mess. She silently considered it a saving grace that the library she had been surreptitiously placed in contained no mirrors, outside of a bathroom that she was still not yet sure even existed in the building. The sides of her head were pounding, whether it be from the cocktail of whatever those men had given to her or from hitting her head on the bookshelf when she was propped up against it next to a dufflebag containing some of her belongings. She didn't recall carrying a DVD with her on the science trip, however; it was all too possible that her things had gotten mixed up with somebody else's.

Resisting the ever-present urge to wipe her face with her sleeve (an action that would serve to both irritate her scarred cheek and get a nasty mess all over her shirt, which was still a concern for reasons she couldn't quite verbalize), Coleen pressed her back to a shelf and took a good look around the room. Books, books, more books... a circle of chairs, a fireplace, and some more sophisticated furniture all adorned the room. It would be a cozy place, so long as there was nobody around to share it with her.

The thought was unfair, she realized, but she most desired to be alone. The words of that one wrinkle-eyed man bounced off of the inner walls of her head, repeating themselves again and again. Friends will turn on friends. Coleen conjured a list of names and placed a face to each one, vividly thinking about each and every student in Cochise that she had interfaced with, come to like or dislike, trust or distrust. Trust... that word was rapidly losing its meaning by the minute. How many people had taken that man's words to heart? Could Cameron enter this very room, pull out a gun and shoot her? It seemed an unlikely scenario.

It seemed far less unlikely when Coleen replaced Cameron with somebody like Vanessa.

Coleen slumped against the shelf and tucked her knees to her chest, hugging them tightly. She bit her lip to let the pain distract her from everything else.
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