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Topic Started: Jun 12 2011, 11:30 PM (1,834 Views)
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The girl didn't have any matches. She offered other help, but Celeste couldn't accept. That would just get this girl killed, like everyone else. The curse was running strong. The safest thing was probably to just disengage and hope the girl went away. So Celeste did, and it worked. The girl left. Probably went to go die or something.

Celeste sighed, and sat unmoving for a long while. She was going to just turn and go, but she decided to take inventory one more time, to just look through the stuff and see if she could find some way to light a fire. She owed it to Morgan, in a way. Her curse had killed him, after all.

To her surprise, there was a lighter in the first aid kit. Maybe it had been there the whole time, and she just hadn't noticed. Whatever the reason, she had it now, and she could carry out his wish.

In the end, though, moving him just wasn't something she'd be able to do, much less moving him and the other girl. He'd cared for the dead girl, and Celeste didn't think he'd want to be parted from her in death. That just left the boat. Maybe she could burn it for him anyways. It would be a proxy funeral, or something. Yeah. She could just burn it all. So she made her way to the boat, and started looking for something flammable. Finally, she found a rope. That would start things off well, right?

She clicked the lighter. It took several tries to light it. She lowered it to the rope, and nothing happened. The sea air was too damp, the rope a bit soggy. This was stupid. Pointless.

She sat down on the deck, totally miserable and dejected.

The night passed, and the morning announcements came. She listened to them, not even paying that much attention. The danger zones didn't register at all, at least, not until her collar began to beep.

That got her moving in a hurry, a stream of profanities racing through her mind. This was bad. No, this was awful.

She jumped from the deck of the partially-sunken ship, ready to race as far from here as she could get, into the swamp.

It didn't work out that way. She landed bad, hard, on her ankle at the wrong angle. Her leg collapsed under her, dropping her face first into the sand. The beeping was accelerating. Her ankle felt like it was on fire. She couldn't have broken it, right? No. No no no. Not this. This wasn't fair.

Her curse applied to other people. It wasn't for her. This wasn't right.

She tried to get up, but it just resulted in more pain. Maybe it wasn't broken. She could still move it. Maybe it was just a really bad sprain. Maybe it would be better in an hour. She didn't have an hour, though. She had maybe a few minutes. The beeping was getting faster and faster, and she couldn't walk, could barely even crawl. She tried to get further, to get away, but she wasn't getting any speed.

She wasn't going to make it. It was clear. After being carried so far by luck, Celeste's had finally run dry. She wondered if she'd get to see John again. Maybe that wouldn't be so bad. Maybe none of this would be so terrible.

For now, though, she stopped trying to flee. She just sat up, her hand on her aching ankle. She was near Morgan and the girl. She looked at him. He was the last victim of her curse. Well, unless the girl was dead. Any way it went, her status as a danger to others was at an end. She just wished there was someone with her, Kayla or Meredith or someone.

But there wasn't, and no one would come, so she sat with the bodies as the beeping increased and then, abruptly, stopped.

G042, Celeste Beaumont: DECEASED
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