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They say the hangover after you get drugged and kidnapped by terrorists is the worst
Topic Started: Aug 13 2016, 05:55 PM (1,064 Views)
Pippin
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party wurmple never sleeps. only dances.
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
((G021 – MIA ROSE -- START))

Mia needed a fucking drink.

She wasn’t too fussy as to what that drink would be. Preferably water, because her throat was absolutely killing her, and for whatever reason her mind was still fixated on the idea of staying healthy and in shape. She was absolutely not opposed to something on the stronger end of the spectrum, however. A pint of something. Some lemonade or vodka, maybe. Hell, just give her an entire fucking bottle of Jack Daniels so she could down it and fall back asleep for a while.

A milkshake sounded pretty good too.



Damn it. Now all she could think of was the last date she’d gone on with Nathan, and how happy she’d been then, and how she couldn’t even remember the last thing they’d said to one another, and how she was stuck on the island and he was safe back at home and that they’d never see each other again.

Mia sniffled suddenly, rubbed her dreary eyes, and sighed. Her mind was a tempest, filled with emotions, filled with thoughts, filled with white noise. She knew she should be crying. She wanted to cry. She was going to die. It was almost certain she would die in the next few days. She would never get to follow her dreams of becoming an Olympic swimmer. She would never get to see her boyfriend again. Slowly but surely, her friends would start dying around her and there was no way she could help them or even see them again before it happened.

Right now, she just felt numb. There was a hollow feeling where her heart belonged, and nothing inside of her was working properly. It didn’t help that whatever it was the terrorists had used to knock her out had hit her hard. She still felt groggy and half asleep, her eyes threatening to blink shut every moment.

So instead of crying, Mia sighed again, and sat cross-legged in the middle of a dark and dusty room, staring at the gun lying on the floor in front of her.

Mia had no idea about guns. She had no idea whether this thing was a pistol, or a submachine gun, or a, what was it, RPG, or whatever. She’d never held a gun. She had never wanted to. But even in her dazed state, she knew she couldn’t just leave it here, or do anything with it aside from keep it on her at all times. She wasn’t stupid. Naïve in some regards? Maybe, sure.

But she wasn’t stupid, and there was no way she was giving up what could be the difference between life and death. People would kill each other. The words tasted sour, but she had to realise it sooner rather than later. Everyone knew this wasn’t a practical joke. Everything knew that if they didn’t kill, they’d all die instead. She needed a weapon to increase her chance of survival. That was how you stayed amongst the fittest; you found an advantage and you never let it go.

Mia sighed once more, a small cloud of dust being kicked up, before she scooped up the gun, weighing it in her right hand. It was much, much heavier than she’d expected. She lightly pressed her finger against the trigger. It didn’t even shift an inch. Firing a gun looked so effortless on TV, but, shocking twist, Hollywood and all the big name TV studios cared more about money and ratings than realism.

Slowly, Mia levered herself up, using the edge of the bed as a crutch. First things first; find out exactly where she’d been placed. A rectangular outline of light told her where the window was, and she shuffled over towards it. She grabbed hold of the base of the blind covering it, pulled down slightly, and let it roll back up.

Light flooded straight into Mia’s eyes, startling both her and a crow that had been nestling on one of the broken window frames. It squawked indignantly at her, flapping its wings, and Mia stumbled backwards in alarm. Half-blind, half-asleep and off balance, she tripped over her own feet. Heart in her mouth, Mia tried to stay balanced, but all that succeeded in doing was spinning her around and making her slam face first into the opposite wall. Her nose exploded with pain, and she could instantly feel a trickle of warm liquid make its way down towards her upper lip.

The sudden burst of pain, fear and confusion caused something to click inside of Mia, and all of her emotions shifted into place again. The delayed, pent up reaction to her situation flooded out of her all at once; not in the form of tears and sobbing, but in pure, undiluted anger.

“Motherfucking piece of shit cunt terrorists, fucking… fucking bullshit! Mothershitfucking bullshit!”

Mia stormed towards the bedroom door, slamming it open, almost ripping it off of its hinges and throwing up an almighty cloud of dust. Breathing heavily, she stomped out into the corridor, almost slap-bang into another girl, and as most rational, logically thinking people would do, Mia screamed straight into her face.

“Who the fuck are you?”
V7 BAYBEE

FOLDER OF DESTINY

"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
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Pippin
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party wurmple never sleeps. only dances.
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
As quickly as it had appeared, the red mist that had clouded Mia’s mind was beginning to fade away. Well, part of it at least. She still felt like a bull in front of a china shop that exclusively dealt in red, but that was still an upgrade from feeling like an erupting volcano. It was enough for her to realise that she’d just burst out yelling from a room in front of an unarmed, innocent, frightened looking girl.

An “oops” or a “sorry” probably wouldn’t cut the mustard at this point.

Mia placed her hand on her head, running her fingers through her hair. She was actually beginning to recognise the girl in front of her, even before she identified herself. Candice and Mia didn’t run in the same social circles at all, but they both happened to be cheerful, friendly girls, so Mia had seen her around and about once or twice.

“Candice, Candice, of course. I knew that…” she muttered, more to herself than to the other girl.

Mia gave a disgruntled sigh, shaking her head and looking down at the ground. Her muscles relaxed a little, her shoulders visibly sagging. After a few moments, she looked back up again, giving Candice a small, grim smile.

“Christ, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to spook you.” Mia could still feel blood trickling out of her nose. She wiped it away, stemming the flow momentarily and leaving a dull red streak smeared across the back of her hand.

“This isn’t exactly how I planned my morning to go, y’know? I expected to be napping on the bus, not dumped in some rundown hole with explosives round my neck. Smashed my nose against something as well, and I’m still trying to just… process this… this…”

Mia sniffed and sighed once again, before anger flashed in her eyes.

“This fucking bullshit!”

That brief moment of anger clouded Mia’s thoughts again, and she unconsciously tried to clench both of her fists. This include the one still holding the gun, pointing down at the floor. A spray of bullets burst from the barrel, ripping through carpet and splintering wood. Mia shrieked out in alarm, and leapt backwards, staring with wide eyes at the smoking holes in the floor.

“Sorry, sorry, fuck! It was an accident!”
V7 BAYBEE

FOLDER OF DESTINY

"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
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Pippin
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party wurmple never sleeps. only dances.
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Even as Candice started to move and speak, Mia couldn’t help but stare at the holes in the floor. There were teeny tiny splinters of wood scattered everywhere, and little scraps of faded carpet still floating down around her. Gently, as if she was expecting to fall through it any second, Mia tapped her foot down against the floor. It felt solid, like that old wood you saw in stately homes, wood that was built to last centuries.

The gun had torn through it like it was butter. Butter that had been left out in the sun for an hour. In, like, Morocco.

Mia briefly considered what it could do to people in that case, and instantly felt sick to her stomach, bile starting to rise in her throat. Another part of her brain, the part of her brain that still thought it was stuck in Kingman, was screaming at her that she had a gun in her hands and that is was pretty fucking cool.

It wasn’t exactly an appropriate train of thought, but it did help Mia regain control and calm down a little. It was just a little thing that kept her grounded and stopped her from drifting away again, into anger and despair, and screaming into girls’ faces.

“Yeah, uh… yeah, that sounds like a good idea.” Mia nodded her head back towards the room she’d burst out of. “That room’s in pretty okay condition, it’s got a bed and anything! Not that the terrorists had the courtesy to drop me on it, course not.”

Mia put the gun into her jacket pocket, half of it still sticking out, and took a step towards the room. She stopped suddenly, before pulling the Uzi out again and glancing sheepishly towards Candice.

“Do you, uh, know where the safety is on here? If there is one? I don’t exactly want a repeat of… that.”
V7 BAYBEE

FOLDER OF DESTINY

"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
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Pippin
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party wurmple never sleeps. only dances.
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Well, fuck. This was a question that was going to drive Mia completely insane for the next day or so. She trudged after Candice, back into the room she had woken up in, staring at the gun as if it was a Rubik’s cube. Where the hell was the safety? That was about the extent of her gun knowledge, right after the whole ‘point and shoot’ part. Most of them had safeties to stop people from doing, well, exactly what Mia had done, right?

Mia moved her thumb over a button-y object on the side, then froze as she realised she was accidentally pointing the gun at Candice’s back. Hastily, heart pounding like a jackhammer, she shoved the Uzi back into her pocket, the bottom half awkwardly sticking out like some bizarre appendage.

Better for her to have the question of the safety location pester her mind, rather than the accidental murder of an innocent girl plague her conscience.

Mia trudged across the room and sat on the edge of the bed. It was about as comfortable as one would expect a bed in a dilapidated, years old house to be, but it was still much more preferable to the floor. She craned her neck back to look at the ceiling, staring at the cracks and watermarks that decorated it, letting Candice’s question wash over her. Then she looked back at the girl, a smile on her face. It wasn’t forced, but it wasn’t quite natural, either.

“Yeah, that’s me!” Mia said, voice slightly strained. “Mia Rose, the one and only. Swimming sensation, cheerleader, lover of dogs and cats and all things cute, generally all around pretty cool girl. Next big Olympic star, live and in person!”

The smile fell almost as quickly as it had appeared, and with a huge sigh, she flopped backwards onto the bed, feeling all of a sudden very limp and very small. She was exhausted. It had been less than an hour into this thing, and her emotions had already been put through the wringer.

“At least, that was the plan,” Mia muttered. “Then everything went tits up, and now I’m just some girl who assaults the first person she sees. I, uh, really am sorry about that, by the way.”

Mia glanced over at Candice, an apologetic look on her face, before continuing her study of the ceiling.

“If there is anyone else nearby, they must still be out cold not to have investigated the noise by now. Probably for the best, honestly. Didn’t exactly give the best account of myself, huh?”

As the last couple of words left Mia’s mouth, a lead weight felt like it had been dropped on her heart. Maybe there was no-one else in this building itself, but there were plenty of people who would have seen her little display. Plenty of people who would be watching her right now, checking every hour to make sure she was still alright.

“Do you think our parents are watching us right now?”

Mia wondered what Nathan was thinking right at this moment.
V7 BAYBEE

FOLDER OF DESTINY

"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
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Pippin
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party wurmple never sleeps. only dances.
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Christ, she was really making a mess of this, wasn’t she?

Mia sat up and scooted backwards, resting her back against the cold bedroom wall, tucking her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. She had two reasons for doing so, both of which were obviously of equal importance. Her nose was still bleeding, and didn’t look like it was planning on slowing down any time soon. She hurriedly wiped the stream with her already blood-smeared arm, and pinched the bridge of her nose. She’d read horror stories about people with nose bleeds lying at awkward angles and having the blood run into their brain, or something like that. Probably an urban legend or something, but right now, Mia didn’t want to take any chances with anything related to ‘horrible gruesome death’.

The other reason was because she’d heard the trepidation in Candice’s voice, and knew instantly that she’d fucked up, again. She looked over at the other girl, feeling like there was a pit opening up underneath her heart. She certainly wished she could just disappear into a pit right now. It was so stupid, she hadn’t been thinking at all, just vocalising her thoughts. Now Mia was regretting thinking about it as well.

She couldn’t help but put herself in her parents’ shoes, or her siblings, or Nathan’s, or any of her other friends who had stayed behind in Kingman. She didn’t want any of them to watch her right now; she knew there were places online to find out what had happened to her on the island, she’d stumbled upon them herself when the previous version had been running. But nothing good would come of them watching her progress. Even if, by some miracle, she made it out of this shitshow alive, she was going to have to encounter death and tragedy at some point. It was inevitable, one way or another. Maybe she would cry. Maybe she would mess up even further. Maybe she’d sink her reputation so far into the gutter that no-one back home would want anything more to do with her.

But Mia knew that everyone she loved would do their best to try and find footage of her to make sure she was still holding on, and she’d have done the exact same damn thing.

“Hey, listen, I’m really sorry,” Mia mumbled, removing her hand from her nose and instead sniffling occasionally to try and halt the flow of blood. “About, like… everything so far. I’m not really sure where my mind is, right now. Everything’s all jumbled up and I can’t think straight. None of this feels real, like it’s just some horrible dream I’ll wake up from any moment now… maybe it’s better to think like that than to get numb to all of this, though.”

Mia chuckled ruefully, before studying Candice for a few moments, a gentle smile on her face. When she spoke, she chose her words carefully and slowly.

“You know… there’s no reason this can’t go the same way it did a few years back. Like, when a whole bunch of kids got rescued? It happened once, there’s no reason it can’t happen again, right? I know it’s a long shot, but…”

‘But so was our chances of getting chucked into this living hell,’ she wanted to say, but she knew that would go down like the Titanic.

“… but stranger things have happened. We’ve just gotta hold on.”

Mia forced a cheerful smile onto her face, which vanished almost instantaneously when she felt more warm blood touch her upper lip. Making a noise of supreme disgust, she wiped it away again – her arm was beginning to look pretty suspect now – before her expression changed yet again, this time to an apologetic side glance at Candice.

“Uh, could you grab some tissues or something from my bag? I think I brought a packet with me but there’s probably something useful in the first aid kit.”
V7 BAYBEE

FOLDER OF DESTINY

"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
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Pippin
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party wurmple never sleeps. only dances.
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Sometimes, it felt like the entire universe was conspiring against Mia.

She was a naturally happy, cheerful, peppy girl, who just wanted to enjoy herself and make everyone she cared for happy as well. She wanted to live out her days doing what she loved, and what she was good at. She knew she could make a career out of it. Everyone who knew her had said she had the ability to become a professional swimmer, or a soccer player, or any sort of athlete she wanted to be.

It could never be that easy, though. She wanted to eschew her studies to focus on sports when both society, and her family, expected her to continue her academic career for as long as possible, and judged her for not being successful at them. People expected her to be happy and cheerful all the time, and she knew far too many people who would shun her rather than help her on the rare occasions that the stress of schoolwork became too much to handle. She was a girl that liked boys and girls and everyone else in-between, in a world that still struggled to accept that guys could like guys.

Even further on in her life, one single event managed to make her terrified of something would affect her for the rest of her life. She’d had to flake out of so many gatherings over the years; all the barbecues she’d had to make up excuses to avoid, the bonfires and firework events she’d spent doing her best to find somewhere safe and out of the way, the sleepovers where she’d watch films hidden under a blanket for half of them. Smoke, in any form, was enough to send her into a cold sweat and hurtling towards panic. So many things she’d missed out on, all because of the events of one single evening.

She barely needed to mention Survival of the Fittest. If that wasn’t a sign that there was some God or Goddess up there that just wanted to fuck with her, then she wasn’t sure what else was.

And just now, after Mia had felt like she’d managed to patch things up with Candice, after she’d finally felt like she had done something useful on the island, hell, after she’d almost managed to convince herself that escape wasn’t just a pipe dream, that it was a viable way out of this nightmare, this girl had just appeared and brought all that fear and panic crashing back down again.

The packet of tissues bounced against Mia’s leg and onto the bed beside her, but she barely noticed, staring up at Scout with a mix of confusion and anger. She knew the other girl wasn’t trying to actively hurt them, but Christ, she’d managed to do so anyway. Sometimes you just had to lie a little to make things alright, or say things you didn’t necessarily believe in; all she’d wanted to do was give Candice a little bit of hope, to make herself look like she could be trusted and relied upon. And then this girl had waltzed in and told them to ‘hope for the best, prepare for the worst’.

Mia knew she was right, of course she was right. But it wasn’t what she needed to be told right now. She stared at the empty doorway where Scout had been, eyes empty and looking at nothing. It was only when she felt the stream of blood trickle down over her lip again that she broke out of her reverie.

Sometimes it felt like the universe was out to get her, but Mia had never let that get her down. She’d kept pushing forwards, kept who she was, hadn’t let any obstacle bring her down completely. People and things had tried to stop her before, her own brain included. She’d fucked things up before. But everyone did, now and again. She’d fucked things up with Candice, but that didn’t mean she was a fuck up herself.

“Starting everything over, huh…”

Mia mumbled under her breath as she ripped open the packet of tissues, wiping her nose with one and stuffing the rest into her left-hand pocket. She sniffed once, then a second time. Then she stood up, and looked straight at Candice. Somehow, a small but confident smile had found its way onto her face.

“That sounds like a plan to me,” Mia said. “This place isn’t exactly my style. The whole ‘frat-party-drunken-orgy-aftermath’ doesn’t really suit an Olympic hopeful, y’know?”

She put the gun back in her pocket, hoping it wouldn’t tumble out as they were walking, and stretched her arms up, her back clicking as she did.

“This whole thing… this whole morning… this isn’t me. I’m better than this. So let’s leave this place, and forget it all happened, yeah?”

Mia crouched down to zip her still-open bag back up. Once she’d finished, she looked up at Candice.

“You got anywhere you wanna go? Or should we just… wander and see what happens?”
V7 BAYBEE

FOLDER OF DESTINY

"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
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Pippin
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party wurmple never sleeps. only dances.
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Mia laughed, and shrugged off Candice’s rather redundant statement. It was nice to hear that again, her own laugh. Surprising, too. Her emotions had started to settle now. They hadn’t fully come to rest yet, they were still liable to be picked up and flung about like dry leaves in the wind, but at least she wasn’t so emotionally fragile that she’d go from yelling to crying to maniacally laughing in the space of a second.

But she’d half expected to never laugh, or even smile again. She wouldn’t be able to blame anyone else in the slightest if that was how they ended up. Maybe it was just because this whole thing had just started, and there was nothing that had directly removed the smile from her face. There would inevitably come a time when the laughter would die out, and tears and despair would take their place.

But this was promising. This suggested that, once that was said and done, she could find it in herself to smile again.

“Don’t worry,” Mia said, heading towards the door. “I’ve never really been big on plans myself. I just like going along with the flow and seeing where it takes me. I’ve done pretty well by it so far.”

Mia gave Candice her most comforting smile as she started to head out.

“It’ll be all right.”

Expect the worst, hell, know that the worst was coming sooner or later. But hope for the best. Maybe everything would end up all right.

((Mia Rose continued in Go to a school trip they said, it will be fun they said))
V7 BAYBEE

FOLDER OF DESTINY

"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
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