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((Olivia Fischer continues from Sæglópur))

The few poems Olivia had tried to make since middle school had no beginnings and ends. They had middles, sure. Choice lines, dabbles, fragments taken from the thick of it, of anthologies that only existed in her head. Olivia loved getting straight to the point, to the meat, the soul of her message. But, she could never quite figure out how to introduce her poems. Or how to conclude them.

Fitting, really. It was one of the things she struggled with her entire life. Even this renewed, revamped version of herself that she had molded for middle and high school still had the bugs of little her, these flaws that always caused other people to scrunch their eyebrows at her. She would end conversations five seconds too late, letting the silences become awkward before saying her goodbyes. But at least she ended them herself. Beginnings, she simply left to other people, people better at introducing and talking and socially functioning.

It was why Olivia never liked meeting with strangers, because your first words with them were the most important of beginnings. Your first impressions, the images people constructed in their heads, judged and examined and used as guidelines to see if you were worth it, worth their time. High school didn't have these problems after a while, after freshman year. You simply talked with people you've known for years, people you have images of, and they talk with you, using the images they have of you.

So, what was she to think of her first day on the island, of this new beginning, perhaps, this final beginning?

One of the first goals Olivia had set in mind was to find friends. Familiar faces at least, well-constructed images. No beginnings needed there. The rest, she could think up, deal with later. In a way, she had accomplished this goal almost immediately. A few meters from her was Hannah Kendrickstone. Not some unknown variable. She was an actress. Lesbian. She did yoga. One of the nicer people in Kingman, really.

She noted that there was a camera attached to some nearby rock, also a few meters from herself. It pointed away from Olivia, and at first, she was thankful for that, but why? Why did it not follow her, pester her, invade her like that first camera had?

Now, Hannah was just hyperventilating, panting, but a few seconds earlier, she had been smashing a boat with a plank of wood. Slamming into it, relentlessly. This is who the camera pointed at. The sight was shocking. Chilling. Or was that just her wet skin raising goosebumps in the wind?

In a way, she had immediately achieved her first goal. She found a familiar face. But what was she to do if this familiar face was worn by an unfamiliar being? This being that didn't seem anything like the Hannah she knew, this being already being shaped and tortured by this final beginning, like Olivia, like everyone else on the island. How was she supposed to react?

Well, essentially, this was a new person. A stranger. It's not like Hannah and Olivia were very close, anyways, even back in Cochise. So, here it was. Another beginning.

And Olivia did what she would back in Cochise. She stood there, waiting for Hannah to notice her and begin for her.
Edited by Maraoone, Aug 25 2016, 10:06 AM.
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G062 - Olivia Fischer prayed a thousand prayers in Ye Not [37/107]
Previous Threads: Sæglópur - Until all our yesterdays are lighted fools... - the way to dusty death - a concrete cave - I'd Say That I've Had Worse Days, but Then I'd Be Lying - Get Me Away From Here, I'm Dying - Until Then, You Are Free - Cast in the Name of God
Memories: Sometimes when we reach for the stars...
Weapon: Lobotomy pick.

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"Mara was a mistake." - Cicada, 2017
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Until all our yesterdays are lighted fools... · The Cove