nineteen ♢ video

[versusnurture]

[When the feed comes on, the first thing there is is a wall and half of a desk. Those people on board who've been inside will know it as Abigail's room. There's a small blood smear on the edge of the desk, another dark spot on the corner of the lens.]

[She doesn't turn it towards herself, but the camera does move towards the desk, is set down at the edge of it. Two hands appear in the frame, blood-caked, palm-up. There's blood under her nails, too, drier blood that's oxidized to a deep, almost black color.]

[She doesn't say anything. But after a moment, there's a strangled noise, and she knocks the camera off the desk. The briefest flash of dark hair and a pale face; then it hits the floor and shuts off.]

Comments

text; private

[orderfromchaos]

a lot. you met me on my first day, and we ended up friends

i gave you a mask

and I can read people

sort of magically well

i know most of what was done to you and most of what you've done

i know what kind of books you like and how many marshmellows you want in your hot chocolate

i know you're kinder and stronger than you think you are

text; private

[versusnurture]

[A mask. She remembers, the same way she remembered about Ben: all in bits and pieces mushed up into one great big memory. It hurts, like a wave you think you can fight against but it drags you down into the surf, dragging sand across your face. In the solitude of her room, she winces against the weight of it.]

oh.

there's more now

text; private

[orderfromchaos]

i went away and came back once too

it was all a jumbled rush for me

do you want me to come over now? it's okay if you dont

text; private

[versusnurture]

yes please

-> spam

[orderfromchaos]

[He comes over, and he brings and unopened box of swiss miss.]

Hi, Abigail. It's DIllon.

spam

[versusnurture]

[She opens the door slowly and carefully. She is not carrying her knife, and she is no longer covered in blood, although there are some spots on her blouse that she hadn't thought to clean off.]

[He looks more familiar close up, so much so that she can even offer a wobbly smile.]

You can come in. If you want.

spam

[orderfromchaos]

Hey.

[He slips in, puts the swiss miss box on the edge of the table, doesn't mention it. It's just there. He wonders how much to look at her, how much he wants to, how much she'd want him to if she remembered everything. He wonders if it matters - he'll probably learn it all eventually anyway.]

I'm really glad you came back.

spam

[versusnurture]

[She wants him to learn it all. She wants him to learn it all now, so that someone--somewhere--does not need her to explain it, because she doesn't think she can. She doesn't think she knows how.]

[He says he's glad and tears well up in her eyes all of a sudden. Is this what a best friend is? Her fingers tremble, clench into fists, she does not remember a time when she wasn't crying--she lurches forward and pulls him into her arms, her face pressed to his shoulder like if she just breathes into it hard enough she'll stop breathing altogether.]

[She isn't glad she came back. But she's glad she's here, with him, right now.]