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Think About Your Life; The morning of Day 4, just after announcements
Topic Started: Jan 11 2017, 05:46 PM (957 Views)
MK Kilmarnock
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((Coleen Reagan continued from Where are all the doctors?))

Tears streamed down both cheeks while the announcements played over in Coleen's mind.

"Cameron Herrig took a pickaxe to the stomach courtesy of our newest challenger to take up the game, Alessio Rigano."
"Cameron Herrig took a pickaxe to the stomach."
"Cameron Herrig. Pickaxe. Stomach."
"Cameron Herrig."
"Cameron."


She gripped at intersections of chain link fence and left it to her fingers to carry the terrible weight in her stomach. One of her best friends, the one responsible for bringing her into the tightest-knit group she'd ever been a part of, was now dead. Somewhere on this island, not even getting the grave she deserved, was Cam's body. Coleen's head pushed against the fence as her body lowered against her will. Some of the chain links caught and pulled at her hair, but she could hardly care. The pain was a momentary distraction from the cloud in her brain.

Over the course of the night, Coleen had hoped that maybe the other band members were safe and, perhaps, she was the only one who had been taken. Climbing to the top of the pit wouldn't be easy, not when she'd have to rise up on the body of others, but Peyote Coyote was one of her reasons to live. It was the rope that tied her to the top of the cliff and prevented her from jumping off. With Cameron dead, so too did the band die. Coleen knew they'd never be able to go on without her, even if B.B., Brady and Vanessa all somehow miraculously survived.

"I didn't even get..." she choked, pulling away from the fence and parting with a few more strands of hair. Her fingers ran out of strength and she tumbled back onto her rear end, just two feet away from where her pack had been dropped upon hearing the dreaded toll.

"Cams..." Coleen's voice cracked as she squeaked it out, covering her eyes. Her cheek stung from the saltiness of her tears on the sensitive patch. Just like the fence with her hair, she practically welcomed the pain.

"to take up the game, Alessio Rigano."
"Alessio Rigano."


The shriek may have been born of sadness, frustration, rage or all of the above. All Coleen knew was she had never made a sound quite like that one before.
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MK Kilmarnock
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A hand rested on her shoulder. Coleen tensed but made no further motions, no further noises. Arthur was nearby, maintaining his vigil. That was the most she expected from him.

She imagined the perfect scenario to be one where the three of them were allowed to stay in silence. If they had stayed alone, emotions had the potential to fester and boil, but it was the only way Coleen could ever understand how to deal with the building stress. With the voices of two more people calling out to them, her only response was to curl tighter into a ball. No response to the guy named 'Brendan' (Brendan Harte? That was the only Brendan she knew, so it was her best guess). No correcting the female voice who called out to a 'Sandra'.

She didn't want to talk. She didn't want to stand. She didn't want to look at them.

She just wanted to cry and be mad. And she was running out of tears.
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MK Kilmarnock
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"Can't tell..." Coleen said in a half-whisper, pulling her eyes up from the safe zone created by her knees when she pulled them up to her chest. A sunrise? Nothing she hadn't seen before. "Got my back pressed to it."

Bernadette and Brendan... that talk wasn't going very pleasantly. Alba's attempts to play it down and act as a peacekeeper were, by Coleen's assessment, less than adequate. In a different mood, she wondered, she may have considered it 'laughable', but that was back when she remembered how to laugh. Right now, her heart felt like she'd never laugh again for the rest of her life.

The uncomfortable thoughts returned of just how short a time that might actually be.

Her gaze shifted down to the bag and gun left right by her. They were Bernadette's, discarded when Bern had left her 'let's comfort Coleen' post in order to deal with Brendan. Why she had left such a dangerous-looking weapon behind when talking to a supposed killer was beyond her. Maybe Bernadette trusted Brendan. As if anybody could trust anybody anymore, not with friends killing each other. Four days ago, such things would've been unthinkable. Never in a hundred years could any of them take the life of another.

She cursed herself for being unable to find the joy in just how stupid that was, and she cursed herself for being unable to remember exactly what type of gun the assault-rifle-looking weapon was that lay before her.
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((Welcome to SotF where the post order is made up and the points don't matter))

Coleen's knees audibly clicked as they tensed and straightened, heels digging into the dirt and her back pressing up against the links of the fence.

"You've... y-y-you've got to be..." she stammered, unable to finish putting her thoughts into words. They had to be kidding her. Just now, things had escalated from talking to Bernadette being pushed... and now they had all sling-shot back to, what was Brendan doing, crying over her? She took a moment to process that; in a fit of immature rage, Brendan went from shoving Bernadette, possibly even killing her, and now he was crying over her like he could somehow make things okay?

First Bradley, then Bernadette. If Bern didn't make it, that made two people who had just died in front of her. And now her best friend, practically her sister was dead too and Coleen knew she might not ever even see the body. Crying doesn't make this better. There was no option to weep and say 'I'm sorry'.

Her hands were trembling, her cheeks were feverish, but Coleen reached for the weapon that had been left near her anyway. She had never held a gun before, let alone fired one, but she babysat Ronnie and Dillon enough to know that she was looking at... well, she was either looking at an M-16 or an AK-47, most likely. Common sense told her it had a safety and she knew how to hold it, but that was about it. She didn't need to know how to aim. It wasn't her intention to shoot anybody.

Not yet.

Tucking the gun close to her chest, Coleen chomped down on her lip as she struggled to find the safety. As it turned out to be a fairly large lever near her right thumb, it didn't take long. She scrambled to her knee and lifted the weapon's stock to press against her shoulder, aiming at a small clump of dry, green weeds far from anything even remotely alive and sentient. She pulled the trigger...

It was one thing to hear a gun go off in a video game from the safety of the couch, and another thing entirely to have a live weapon spew ordinance in your arms. It was loud... very loud, loud enough that she now understood why people always wore ear protection at firing ranges on TV. Coleen wasn't expecting as much kick as she got either and immediately released the trigger, thankfully managing to hold in a shriek. The shock kicked her adrenaline up even further than watching Bern's fall, and she shook the hair out of her eyes to glare at Brendan.

"Get out of here," she spat. "Just get the hell out of here, Brendan."
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Coleen lowered the barrel to the dirt, the very same dirt that her knees and her dress were scuffed in. Brendan and Alba had gone, leaving Arthur and...

Now just Arthur. Bern was gone, and their little 'ABC' trio was now just 'AC'. Daring to look out the few feet required to see Bernadette sleeping peacefully on the ground caused Coleen's vision to go blurry, and she wept. She wept not only because it was tragic to witness yet another person's death, another wasted life gone up in smoke. She was terrified as well.

Brendan and Bernadette, those two were supposed to be close friends. A few days on this desolate rock with nothing but lives being taken all around you, the croaking of a loudspeaker serving as your alarm cloak to goad you onward and trample on your spirit, had changed something about the each of them. Brendan had killed before, Bernadette rebuffed him, and so Brendan had done the same to her. Part of her understood that it couldn't have been on purpose; if she dared to replay the scene in her mind, she could see an argument that soured. Nothing more.

But that was the thing. No rational person kills another person. What happened here today only happened because all rationality was being pulled away from them little by little. In some cases, it was happening more rapidly. Today, she had picked up a gun and fired it for the first time in her life. She hadn't pointed it at anybody, but she pulled the trigger. How long before she pulled it at somebody? Killing Arthur seemed almost inconceivable to her. She was sure killing Bernadette must have seen inconceivable to Brendan.

But it happened.

It happened.

"Let's go..." Coleen choked, clinging to the fence and pulling herself up. "Let's go. I don't want to be here anymore."

((Coleen Reagan, continued in Cooking Up Trouble))
Edited by MK Kilmarnock, Feb 9 2017, 10:26 PM.
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