Tranquility

[CardboardAirplane]

(Perante Losoa continued from Suppression)

He jumped a bit and repressed a cry of fear, holding his hand over his mouth. The sound of feedback got his attention, sure. But it was bloody annoying!

There was a daily update at nine o’clock, that’s what was said, right? That’s what this was.

Congratulations, he lived a day. Longer than he would’ve expected, though death felt rather far away at the same time. Any time the idea that he could die came up while on this walk, he stopped. Just had to think happy thoughts. School may have been boring as shit, but he would take that over this damn island any day. Hell, literally anything earlier than twenty four hours ago would be seen through rose tinted glasses.

His mind raced as Danya started talking, he felt lightheaded and stopped walking. The names weren’t even called yet but just the idea that there could- scratch that, would be names coming up was enough to stress him out. I mean they weren’t fucking dead, were they? That was twenty four hours with someone dying.

You know what, maybe it’d be better to just not listen to it. As elementary as it seems, if he doesn’t hear it, it’s not real. Okay, maybe more like he could just have blissful ignorance in not knowing whether his friends were alive or not. Or worse, whether his friends have killed people or not.

Despite those thoughts, he had to know.

Just stay calm, stop being such a wuss.

He sat down to give himself more room to think. He didn’t want to mishear anything from this announcement, he wanted to get everything right.

Of all people, Kitty Graves killing someone was just something he wasn’t expecting.

Actually, no. Could he have seen this coming? Thinking about it…

No, that just sounded absolutely horrid to think about. Just to be like, “Oh yeah sure, I knew they’d be a murderer.”

Wait, Robin… The two of them, Kitty and Robin felt familiar in their mind.

Oh fuck, sophomore year, right.

Janice Cresner killing Tana Blanco Osuna, damn that’s another case of slicing throats. It just- Come on, it sounds like one of the more unpleasant ways to kill someone.

Przemyslaw Ziemiak killing Etha- Wait, what?

Przem, you of all people?!

He leaned forward and covered his face with his knees, letting out a deep breath. One moment he goes all “What's your opinion on the Lord?” And in the next he’s a cold blooded killer and pushes someone to their death.

It’s always the ones you don’t expect… At least that’s said in movies anyway, but he never saw this coming. And now he’s just forced to label him as a murderer.

Oakley’s dead, someone he was more familiar with given the theater crap going on. Oh, and of course it had to be Betty Quinn who did it. Great. He didn’t care if they were friends or not, but these two should’ve at least been more than strangers. They’ve certainly seen each other a lot more than any two random students.

Perante had to wonder if that even affected the decision at all.

Kitty again...? Janice again? Oh, hey he knew Liya.

Note to self. Really really watch out for those two. Add an extra really to emphasize that more. Danya’s right about something at least. As much as it sucked to agree with a literal fucking terrorist, he was going to in fact, watch out for the two killers.

Spike Havighurst and Jacob Lang, Mallory Valdez and Jessica Romero…

Mallory… Shit.

She was someone that Perante had seen every week ever since he got dragged into WAP. That's another familiar face gone, then again he'd be vaguely familiar with everyone at school at this point, or at the very least most of them. The two really let their shit from before the island let it get to them here, huh? At least that’s what his guess was.

Constance, EXTREME STEVE [sic], Kiera-

Hold the fuck up, weren’t those two dating?!

After the danger zone was announced and the statement effectively comparing Oakley’s life to sourdough bread, he sat there in relative silence.

Fuck… Eleven of us dead just like that.

He felt like he should be feeling more, but it was odd. He was more focused on the killers than the ones who died. That just felt wrong, very much so. Usually, you’d actually care more about the ones who fucking died. The urge to cry at the victims and scream at the killers were filed back into the recesses of his mind.

Start a fire. Yeah, bless his heart but he was more confident in that being a death sentence than something to save them all. It’d attract more killers than anyone trying to save them. Internally, he was just praying that Chester would realize it was a bad idea at some point.

He thought he’d be able to trust most of these people. But most of the killers just caught him by surprise. At this point hell, if fucking Greg Craig came up as a killer it’d surprise him, sure, but what else would be new?

He noticed himself shaking a bit. He cursed himself internally as he kept telling himself to stay calm. Just fucking stay calm.

He calmly stood up and peered directly into a camera. All of the medication he was supposed to bring for the trip was in his pocket when he walked here. He set them down as he got up. For those at home who noticed, he could always say it was an accident. The real reason he left really, he just wanted to get rid of it without anyone seeing.

What does that show if he needed to rely on that kind of stuff?

He was looking at the rest of the world behind those lenses. They were watching him, everyone was watching him. The world closed in on him as he felt every single person looking at him, judging him. When the feeds finally died down, in the field of students that made it onto this island, how would he compare to everyone else?

“I’m not losing to you…” He started.

I don’t want to die.

“I’m not gonna kill like you want me to. I can do this all day, I can stay on this island as long as you want.”

Someone’s going to kill me, maybe someone I’d call a friend. Maybe someone in that ‘group’ I’m in.

“...I’m fine.”

He glared into the camera again, the tension inside of him contradicting the otherwise cool disposition he’s put on. His legs worked like a machine as he saw himself heading back to the office.

They were all watching him.

The truth was though, nobody was looking at Perante Losoa.

To an outsider looking in, there wouldn't be much of a difference. To him though, looking into the lenses of the camera and seeing a vague reflection back at him.

He wasn’t looking at himself. He was looking at someone who stood a chance.

He was fine.

Just stay calm and stop worrying.

(Perante Losoa continued at Seclusion.)