"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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Viewing Single Post From: They say the hangover after you get drugged and kidnapped by terrorists is the worst
Muninn
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Survivor
[ *  * ]
At the mention of being watched, Candice found herself fighting the urge to glance at the corners of the room to see where the terrorists might have placed cameras. The fact that their every moves were being recorded and broadcast hadn't crossed her mind until now. Unfortunately, that knowledge and the sense of unease that accompanied it had now embedded themselves in her mind so deep that wild tractors couldn't pull it out of her. It was the feeling of every last ounce of stage fright she had ever felt packed into a single instant, and then repeated over and over and over again until she felt like going out and swimming as far as she could into the ocean because they might not have put cameras out there.

Why did you have to say that?

Since waking up this morning, Candice hadn't thought for an instant that anyone who saw her would think that she was staying cool and collected. She was almost at the end of her nerves and wasn't a good enough actor to convince anybody that she wasn't. Nobody was a good enough actor to pull that off. Trying to lie to others that she was totally keeping a clear head about her was a fool's errand, and she had no intention of chasing it.

She had thought, however, that she was at least good enough to lie to herself. That if she were to keep telling herself that she could handle it, the false confidence would at least prevent her from completely falling to pieces.

And then Mia had reminded her that everybody who knew Candice and who wasn't already on this godforsaken island would be privy to every detail of her descent to either a madman or a sobbing wreck. She honestly thought that Mia had dealt a greater blow to her morale with that single question than she did by screaming in her face and firing her gun off randomly.

"W-watching? I..."

She couldn't think of a response. Couldn't even dismiss the question or change the subject. There was some reply in the back of her mind, the part of her that still wanted to salvage her faux-confidence, something along the lines of "That's a good question, let's be sure to ask our parents when we make it back," but she couldn't muster the courage to say something so blatantly fake.

Above all, she couldn't give an honest answer.

The word "Honest" seemed like a joke in this situation, because for all that she couldn't get her mind of the thought of the people watching this, she also couldn't begin to consider what the better case would be. Would it be a blessing that her parents and sister could watch Candice's last days in some sort of twisted one-way communication? Would everybody be happier if the sum total of everybody's knowledge regarding her end was "Candice went to an island. She didn't come back"?

In the end, Candice couldn't bring herself to do anything but stare vacantly out the window. It was either that or curl up in a fetal position and cry.
Let's show that private threads aren't necessary! I pledge not to start any private threads on island in V7. If I started a thread, you are welcome to join it.

V6 Characters
G31 - Candice Banks (adopted from Somersault) - The Rooftop
G35 - Bernadette Thomas (adopted from Imehal) (Deceased) - Northwest Cliffs

Past Version Characters
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They say the hangover after you get drugged and kidnapped by terrorists is the worst · The Staff Dormitories B Block