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Honeysuckle and Pain; Open
Topic Started: Dec 1 2016, 10:37 PM (411 Views)
MK Kilmarnock
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((Coleen Reagan, continued from This Be the Verse))

Coleen struggled to sleep through the dull screeches of the announcement. The art room was secluded enough that the shill blaring howl that assaulted her ears on the morning of the second day in her new prison was reduced to something of a dull roar. It wrestled her from the sleep she managed to cobble together through the night, but only just, and the girl tossed and turned in some vain attempt to find a pillow that she could stuff her head under.

She didn't want to hear. She didn't want to know who died, and yet she wanted to know who was still alive. She was forced already to confront the cold reality that faced them -- any hope to the contrary was dashed when Bradley's heart burst, hands feebly clutching at a spear that wouldn't be removed until his death. That Arthur still held the spear haunted her all the way across the bridge to the other side of the island, through the doors of the decrepit-looking asylum, down the hallway on the first floor that led to a room where people had once come to rehabilitate through creation. Now this room saw only death.

The asylum must have been eerie by day. By night it was maddening; flashlights cast just as many shadows as they illuminated surfaces, and Coleen's brain filled in the blanks from what her eyes couldn't piece together, forcing her to imagine every hiding spot as somebody ready to jump out and add them to the announcements of the next day. Alas, they had made it, the two of them, to this room. Coleen remembered shrieking when they found the body of Mitch Settles, a bloodstain pocked with gray matter behind his head against the wall. Her heart made demands her mouth couldn't carry on to Arthur, not wishing to stay in the room that contained a dead classmate, but she had been slowly convinced to sleep in a hovel placed in the far corner, with a wall of upturned desks and easels. If she couldn't see Mitch, it might have ticked the animal part of her brain that he wasn't there.

Didn't stop the nightmares from frequently breaking her sleep, but at least she didn't wake up screaming.

As the dying words of the announcement concluded, Coleen sat up and rubbed saggy, tired eyes. She winced and her lips screwed into a grimace - the bad side of her face burned, irritated by the salty air and windy climate from their outdoor journeys. Attempting to seek some normalcy of her routine, Coleen fished around her bag for her medicated moisturizing cream.

"I need a shower... I need a shower," she mumbled, swearing she could feel the knots forming in her hair. "I smell like shit. I feel like shit."

"I want to die," she lied.
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MK Kilmarnock
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Arthur's words were met with sharp, rasping giggles. Coleen didn't really know why she was laughing. The air was never thicker, the score never darker. The scene laid out before them was supposed to be the start of the third act for a tragedy, yet she continued to laugh. She quickly stifled herself with her sleeve, shaking her head in desperation. The giggling subsided soon enough.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Coleen repeated. "You're -- erghm!" The girl cleared her throat, giving a shake of the head to affirm to herself and to present company that she was truly and entirely awake. She emitted a low hum from the back of her throat, confirming that her freshly-awoken airway had completely opened up and was ready for the day, whatever talking, crying, screaming or shouting just so happened to be called for.

"You're right. I don't want to die." Coleen refused to look Arthur in the eye. "Guess I shouldn't be joking like that right now, huh? Not with, uh... with him in... um. Yeah." She really didn't want to think about Mitch in all of his brainless glory right now. Between him and Bradley, the two corpses she had managed to see but only a couple in a long line of those already dead, death should have been staring them all in the face. If there ever was a time to come clean with some confessional by finding a camera, Coleen supposed this was the perfect opportunity to do such a thing. No time for lying unless it was to save your own skin. If Arthur wanted to kill her, she supposed he had plenty of time. Slowly, she had come to grow more comfortable and trusting of him. Or, maybe that was just resignation, putting her life out on that line as if to say 'hey man, you want to kill me? All the more power to you.

"I really don't want to die. Decided that the first day when you guys ran into me, you know. Remember that? By the beach?" Coleen pulled her legs into lotus position, habitually, preening her hair with her fingernails as she lifted her chin up, higher than level, and peered at Arthur through one eye. "Maybe you didn't realize it, but I was thinking of going for a swim. Wasn't about to ask you to join me."
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MK Kilmarnock
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"And what's our alternative, exactly?"

Coleen held her gaze with Arthur.

"So I made it to the next day. And the next. Now, all around us, we're killing each other. I'm not like..." Coleen broke her stare and shook her head. "I'm not some weak kid you've got to save. I already told you, I chose to stay alive. But look where it's getting me? I'm just going to get shot tomorrow, or maybe two- I don't know, three days from now." Her voice picked up some steam and rolled with it until it was peaking at a simmering point. Coleen wasn't quite yelling at Arthur, but she wasn't exactly calm anymore, either.

"So don't pity. Don't judge me for what I was going to do, okay? You didn't save me. I made a choice, and I'm trying not to regret it." She tilted her head forward to hide her eyes behind that blonde curtain which so easily covered her face, just the way she trained it. The cool, smooth edges of a familiar canister was pressed between her fingertips. Coleen withdrew her moisturizing cream, looking it over to make sure it hadn't suffered some transgression in the hands of the terrorists who now acted as their keepers.

Deeming it okay, Coleen twisted off the lid and scooted in place, pointing her right shoulder at Arthur. Her makeup mirror was the next item to be pulled out. She snapped it open and looked with disappointment at the marred portions of her cheek and neck. This face was the face she saw when she looked in the mirror for as long as she could remember, but some part of her never could quite get used to it. 'Too bad', she figured silently; there was no changing her scars just like there was no changing the events that got her this far, to this island.

While applying the cream, she thought about her friends. She hadn't heard Cameron's name yet. Nor Vanessa, nor B.B.'s, nor Brady's. Were all of the buses taken? Could it be that at least some of the band, some of her closest friends, were safe? Coleen pursed her lips without realizing it. Just like everything else, it didn't really matter much. She could apply her cream just the same. Whatever got her mind off of the stupid turn in this stupid conversation.
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MK Kilmarnock
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"I didn't say we weren't going to make it."

A lie. Barring a miracle, at least one of the two of them wasn't making it to the end of this game. Coleen didn't have anything against Arthur, but she didn't particularly pray for his survival over hers. The thought to kill him, though, that was still a thought a hundred miles away. Even in her wildest fantasy, she still couldn't see herself driving a spear through somebody's heart or slashing their neck or blasting their head open with a gun. The bloodiest thing she ever cut with a knife was a medium cooked steak.

"We could check this place out," Coleen offered. "It's... huge, and I got this creepy feeling we're not alone in here. I swear I heard a scream last night or something. And to be honest? It got us through the night but I don't want to stay in this room anymore when we've got a corpse for a roommate."

She practically convulsed a little at the thought, but there just wasn't getting around it anymore. She'd done her crying the first couple of days. Now, stress pulled at every string in her neck and back. She was just done with it, unwilling to accept a reality which saw her dying in less than 72 hours. "You're the guy with the weapon. I imagine if I leave, you'll follow me?" She guessed, sealing up her bag.
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"No idea. But I'm going."

Coleen peered out of the room. Nobody was immediately outside, waiting to cut her head off. Her mind flashed to a scene from the 1968 Romeo and Juliet, the one with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern being dragged to their execution. She wasn't sure why it came to mind; it hardly seemed appropriate for the situation. She decided it was because the halls of the asylum reminded her of a dungeon and shrugged it off the best she could... though not without pulling up on the collar of her blouse just a tiny bit, as if to protect her neck.

"Let's try heading upstairs..." she murmured to Arthur, securing the straps of her bag and leaving the room without looking back.

((Coleen Reagan, continued in There Are So Many Offices...))
Edited by MK Kilmarnock, Dec 21 2016, 03:34 PM.
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