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One Final Bow; Morning Day 6, Two-Shot, Private
Topic Started: Feb 11 2011, 01:13 AM (1,846 Views)
ZombiexCreame
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it was a graveyard smash
[ *  *  *  * ]
((Timothy Questiare continued from Stay Frosty))

It had all happened so fast. Even Tim wasn't sure what had happened and what had led to him being... here. Here in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by trees and God knows what else? Probably bodies and killers and not Colin. Tim had searched for his best friend for hours... hours and hours. A few times, he almost felt like breaking down and sobbing, but he stayed strong. It would be okay, Colin was fine. His name hadn't appeared in any announcements or anything. Everything would be just cool. Not knowing that Colin had previously though the same thing, Tim was tempted to pull out his cell phone and shoot his friend a text, but... Oh, right. No reception... Bummer.

Tim realized he was lucky as hell to have met up with Colin to begin with. He could only assume that most people on this island have spent most of their days searching for their friends and girlfriends or boyfriends... Many of them died without even seeing them for a final time, but Tim? Tim was so lucky. He had Colin since the very beginning; the two of them located each other whilst fumbling around in the darkness of the tunnels. It was such a miracle.

And now Colin was lost. Tim tried to recall what had happened in such a short amount of time... The two strode off to go find Jacob. But where had Jacob gone? That's right. He went to find his bag. Colin ran ahead to find the house where Jacob had entered, and Tim stayed back... He rubbed his head, the details becoming blurry... He felt stupid. Why hadn't he just stuck with Colin? Why had he run like a little baby? And that's where it ended. Colin motioned at him to follow, but shortly thereafter, gunshots had rang through the still air. And just like Victoria ditched Alice, Tim ditched Colin, but only assuming he would soon follow!

He wasn't a ditcher. He didn't leave Colin because he wanted to, but... Fuck, he was stupid. Tim had a GUN, Colin had nothing! For Christ's sakes, Colin was probably dead, and Tim would feel completely at fault. "I really hope I find him soon..." He had returned to the town center several hours after the fact, but Colin was long gone, Tim would have to assume. And now he was here in some wood, wandering around helplessly. He hadn't run into anyone, but he only wanted to see Colin or maybe Jacob right now.. Anyone would ease his worry and paranoia. His guilt.. mostly guilt. "Please Colin... Please show up.. I want to apologize, like, a billion times!" He squeezed his eyes shut and small pricks of tears appeared in the corner, but he quickly willed them away. He didn't want anyone to see him cry over someone that was probably alive and well.

Tim took a deep breath. He could do this. His classmates had no problem with searching the island for their closest friends, so Tim could do it too. He had a gun, he would be okay. Pulling out the gun from his waistband, he held it tightly as a comfort, moving through the ever-darkening wood. "...Colin?" he pathetically whispered out, almost positive that he would never see the lovable Colin again. He had been given a chance to stick with Colin, and he honestly just threw it away. Maybe he didn't deserve to be by Colin's side, he was too good.

Tim kept walking, never letting his feet slow for a moment. The sound of rushing waves met his ears, and a salty smell entered his nose, causing Tim to perk up for a moment. It was familiar, and he was reminded of when he and Colin made camp on the beach a few days ago... They had saved Jacob. The ocean was so pretty, and for awhile, Tim didn't want to leave. But right there, there at the edge of the wood, was the edge of the ocean... Beautiful and shimmering. It was true naturalism at its finest: nature didn't care if people were getting slaughtered, kids were being tortured, people were being blown up because they placed one toe in the wrong locale... Nature only did what it did best: be beautiful. He let his pace slow for a moment as he watched the water rush to shore, the sight of birds fluttering in the pleasant breeze. Tim wanted to stay here, but something caught his attention at the corner of his eye.

There was a figure, and Tim slowly looked over, but he didn't recognize the person at first. At first, he thought it was just another student. But... he was so rough-looking! Some part of Tim was able to feign delirium and pretend that this person was not Colin. This wasn't Colin, it was just another of his classmates, beaten and disheveled, obviously on the verge of death... Not Colin. Definitely not Colin. Tim should just turn around and leave now, but he couldn't. His teeth pressed into his bottom lip, and he took a small step towards the boy. The boy that might... possibly... be Colin.

Christ, what had happened?

Shot, stabbed, beaten, broken... It looked nothing like him. Tim had just been separated from him for a short while, right? How could he look like this? How?! His face was bruised, and his nose appeared broken. His shirt was ripped and bloodied, several wounds were apparent on his torso, although Tim could barely see the stab marks himself, just mere glimpses of them through Colin's ratty shirt. His knee was bloodied, his arm hung uselessly... Tim's mouth gaped. His tongue felt dry. Guilt POURED into his guts, a heart hammering painfully in his chest. Bah-bum. Bah-bum. It was all he could hear.

The body that might have been Colin fell to the ground, and this was the only thing that tore Tim from his little moment of absolute shock. He covered his mouth for just a moment, took a shuttering breath, and darted forward, immediately running to Colin's side. After a closer examination, Tim was forced to admit that, yes, this boy was indeed Colin Falcone. And yes, indeed, he may not even wake up again. It was all Tim's fault, he should have been there for his best friend! Why had he been so stupid?

Slowly and carefully, Tim lifted Colin and brought him over to a nearby tree, carefully placing him at the foot of it, his head resting upon the soft bark. There was so much blood, so many entrance wounds that Tim wasn't sure where to begin or what to do. What fucker had possibly done this to poor Colin?! How could someone have tore into Colin so viciously! He hadn't hurt a fly! ...Except maybe Tony, but that was just self-defense and a life-ending favor. This was... this wasn't... This was just plain cruel.

Pulling a spare shirt from his bag, Tim used it to carefully sop up the blood from Colin's face and then used it to cover his knee. He had been shot there. That much was obvious. Shuttering, Tim looked away, his whole body shaking violently. He didn't exactly have a blood-phobia but looking at all of this blood was making him feel seriously ill. Christ, what could he do?!



The announcements played but Tim barely listened. All of his focus and attention was on Colin, trying to patch him up and keep him comfortable. Some small part of him was trying to convince himself that if he tried hard enough, Colin would be okay. He would get through this, his wounds weren't that bad, right? He would be alive, just in a bit of pain. Tim would take care of Colin, he could protect him. Colin would live, it was so obvious.

When Colin awoke, he coughed blood and spoke Tim's name. Tim tried to ignore the blood, but he was positive that blood-spittle was not a good sign. Carefully holding onto Colin's hand, he gave it the lightest squeeze possible and smiled at him. "Colin... I'm here, alright? Everything's going to be okay." He went on and continued to lie to Colin, telling him false pleasantries, such as, "Your wounds don't look fatal" and "Just rest and you'll feel better," but Tim was sure that Colin knew at heart that he wasn't okay. And Tim at heart also knew the same thing, but he didn't want to admit it. Not now. Not when Colin was breathing and blinking and talking right in front of him.

Tim wanted to interrogate his dying friend. He wanted to ask him who did this to him, and once he found out, he would kill that pathetic bastard. He knew that revenge was wrong, but he was so over morals and values. This was Survival of the Fucking Fittest, and if he wanted to get revenge on someone who hurt Colin so badly, he could sure as hell do it! Anger pulsed through his veins, anger and sadness. He wanted to make someone pay for this!

But he didn't because Colin was singing. And if Colin was singing, Tim would listen, his mind focused on nothing else except the melody of his best friend's voice. But this was not just some song.. It was.. Tears came to Tim's eyes, and he quickly wiped them, because this was the very first song Tim had heard Colin sing when they first met. Back at the Cafe, the two of them sipping coffee and talking about some band they would start, and Tim would play the tambourines. And he did! For three shows, at least. He had fun, but that was beyond the point.

The point was, this song... was the first song he'd ever heard Colin sing, and the last song he would ever hear Colin sing.

He embraced Colin in his final moments, even when the song was over, even when Colin's breath was so labored and ragged, only to be heard for a few more moments. Tim couldn't deny that the end was coming, that he would soon lose the closest friend that he had at the moment, the only one who would ever understand what he had gone through. Colin whispered three final words and was gone, the air gone from his body.

And Tim didn't blush with embarrassment or shake with the shock of death. Instead, he whispered, "I.. love you too, man," and pressed a brief kiss on the cheek of his dead friend.

Tim sat with Colin's body for hours, embraced with a stiff corpse that was dead and rotting, but he couldn't leave. Not now. Not yet.


((Timothy Questiare continued in Lonely American Nights))

(Topic concluded)
Edited by ZombiexCreame, Mar 3 2011, 02:51 PM.
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