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Mad World; TOPIC CLOSED
Topic Started: Sep 6 2010, 02:34 PM (2,455 Views)
KingKamor
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(Eva Lancaster, continued from Rest and Relaxation)

Explosions, gunshots, screams, shouts, everything that Eva suspected would be heard in a war zone felt as if it all was being broadcast straight into her head. The announcement that went off earlier barely reached her ears in her rush to get away. From what, she did not know.

She let out stifled grunts as she ran through what looked like something that used to be a forest. It was entirely dead, everything cut down to the ground. The girl didn't even notice that she had arrived in such a place until her breath had completely ran out. Her throat had grown as coarse as sawdust and her mouth just as dry. Crashing to her knees, Eva managed to keep herself from face planting into the ground with a stiff arm to hold her up. A bead of sweat fell from her chin, and her sweater was practically glued to her back.

"Fuck!" She shouted. Eva tore her sweater off over her head-- no small task with the duffel bags strap over he shoulder-- and threw it off to the side, revealing a black tank top underneath. The light blue colored bit of clothing stuck out in stark contrast with the dirt and sawdust around it. Her breathing still not getting any softer, she looked over at it. "...Why did I keep this thing...?" She said as if to someone other than herself.

The sweater was the sweater that she bought while at the mall with Jen one day. Her friend didn't approve of it, but Eva bought it anyway. Thinking back on that day, it was probably rude of her to simply throw away her friend's advice like that.

Then, a thought occurred to her. She's on this island, too, isn't she? Oh, God. I wasn't listening to the names called during the announcement! What if she was one of the people who died? She struggled to her feet. "Shit! God damn it! This is the fucking stupidest thing ever! Fucking a!" Just as she was about to kick a nearby stump out of frustration, a sob escaped her breath. "Why...? Why the hell would they...?" As she trailed off, she picked herself up and continued in the direction she was heading.

As it turned out, just down the "road" were several figures. It was a rather picturesque moment, to her. Having spent so long in art class after hours, she instantly thought of a name for that scene. Title: Fallen Leaves. Upon closer inspection, she saw that one of the figures was crying his eyes out. The one on the ground wasn't moving.

He's dead. She told herself.

Eva's eyes widened. Who killed this guy? Was it the big guy standing next to him? Was it an accident? Didn't she hear a gunshot earlier? And screams, too? She instantly tore the zipper of her duffel bag open and grabbed the crossbow gun, the rest of the bags contents spilled all over the ground in the process, but she didn't pay any mind to it. With tears streaming down her face and a shout of anguish, she shot a bolt towards her fellow students, not even caring if it hit them or not.
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KingKamor
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[ *  *  * ]
Every face she saw in that small crowd around the body had a familiar face. They were faces she had seen in the halls for the past four years. She had spent most of her time in the art room and even then she was able to recognize them at least a little, though she knew not their names. Every single one of them looked exhausted, as if they had nowhere to go.

Pow

A bullet whizzed past her arm, the hairs on the skin standing up at the sharp rush of air as it passed. See? Everyone she knew was out to kill poor Eva because they were succumbing to the hatred caused by Survival of the Fittest! But Eva won't die. Of course not! She has too much to do-- too much to accomplish-- to die such a miserable death in a place like this.

I am an artist! She shouted in her mind as she dug around in her bag for another bolt to place in her crossbow. All I have to do is go through art college, paint some masterpieces, and everything will be fine. Even Dad will have to admit that I've done well! If these people plan on getting in my way, then...!

It was all she could do to keep the memories from flooding back to her. It wasn't her style to dwell on the past, but several things always lingered in the back of her mind. Her eyes flooded with tears of every emotion as the images flashed before them.

A young preteen girl with bob-cut hair of every shade of blond ran around the house, holding in her hands a canvas that was almost larger than she was. "Dad!" she called out through the white pastel innards of the triple story house. Her feet made muffled stomps as her heart-covered socks beat against the hardwood floors in search of her father. She stopped in her tracks when she saw him sitting at his desk in his office. He was always there, but she never paid attention to the little details.

A sigh. "What is it, Evangeline?" he asked without looking away from the computer monitor.

With some difficulty, she raised up the painting to face him, revealing the image of a man wearing glasses with graying hair. The man sitting in front of her. "I made this for you! What do you think?" An ear-to-ear smile spread across her face in anticipation. "Let's see... Title: The Working Man. Kinda simple, but I like it."

A glance, then back to work. "How nice."

Her head cocked at his reaction. "But... you barely looked at it. it's supposed to be you, you know."

His hands stopped their typing, and he turned to her in his chair. "Shouldn't you do something else? Show it to your mother if it is so important to you. Either way, it's a useless talent, if you could call it that. Get back to your homework. I'm sure you haven't done it yet."


But she didn't stop, even after that day. Looking back, the painting sucked. Almost child's play compared to what she was capable of during her Senior year at Bayview. Hours upon hours of practice cause her art room locker to nearly burst. Charcoal, pencil, pastels, water colors, oil paints, pointilism, negative and positive space, textures, she learned how to use them all over the course of seven years, starting in middle school. No friends, no school clubs, no sports, no nothing. Everything else paled in comparison to showing her father that any talent was useful no matter what it was, and she was going to show it to the greatest extent of her ability.

She sniffed and wiped her nose on her arm. Pointing her crossbow at the student who shot at her, the tears still wouldn't stop. Her hands trembled as they held onto the weapon, but she could not aim it at all. Once the tears filled her eyes so much that they could not stay open... What am I thinking...? Enough... Her hands fell to her sides, and she let the crossbow fall to the ground.

Pow

An intense pain filled her entire body, but it lasted only an instant before she began to fall.

Shot through the heart.

A smile spread across her face as she fell back onto the ground. In a way... that's what I've always wanted to do... shoot you through the heart... the only way I know how...

One last look at the sky showed her something she never saw while practicing inside: a beautiful display of red clouds and blue sky. Brushes of several colors across the edges of the vapor made believe that a vast, majestic river flowed through the sky. With the last of her strength, she lifted her arms in front of her vision, framing the scene with her thumbs and forefingers.

A smile remained on her face, despite the scene fading from her vision. "Title..."

FEMALE STUDENT NO. 88 - EVA LANCASTER - DECEASED
G###: Lark "Birdie" Finley
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