(cw: self harm, suicide, from here on out)
The idle swing of the machete stopped, and Meena’s grip tightened around its handle. He nodded.
“I don’t know if you want my opinion but you’re getting it anyway. You can’t be a bad person,
“because morality requires free will.” His lips twitched, into a frown.
“You’re like a cat scratching whoever she doesn’t like, or is scared by. That doesn’t take malice or strength, it’s… animal,” he nearly spat the words. They congealed, and felt more real in his mouth than any of the day’s rations, or any of Ren’s kindness. “But animals can’t be good or bad. They just follow their instincts.”
He took another step back, away from Kitty. Away from Ren, who he couldn’t help but steal a glance at.
“Some of us are working dogs, grown into throwing their lives away for others. Some of us are broken into martyrs.” He looked away, back to Kitty. “But does that make them good people? No. For the same reason you’re not a bad person.”
“You need to choose. You need a choice, to be a good or a bad person, the right thing when you could have done the wrong thing, or the other way around. But you didn’t choose the right thing or the wrong thing, you didn’t…”
Meena’s coat had been unzipped for a while, since this morning, maybe? A bad habit of his, in cold but not freezing deadly cold, weather. He kind of wished he could have torn the zipper off his coat. Torn up the coat. He wished he had the strength to do destroy anything other than himself, without the help of bullets and such.
A shaky, jagged, tiny camera-smile came onto Meena’s face. He wondered if his parents would see it.
“...you didn’t choose anything! None of you did! You, like me…”
He bared his arm, and felt the cool winter air against his bare skin. And now here was where we hit the gas - he put the metal of the machete against skin,
“...did the only thing you could have possibly done.”
and sliced.
Witch Barrier
Private! (CW: self-harm)
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BlizzardeyeWonder
- Posts: 1086
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 3:41 pm
- Location: the shadow realm
Kai stood tense and silent throughout Meena’s question-and-answer routine with Kitty, his jaw gradually clenching tighter and tighter as she spoke. It was a philosophical screed that he still didn’t really grasp, beyond that it sounded like something Meena had probably been composing inside her head for days.
Free will and hatred and morality. The kind of thing that people loved to go on and on and on about. Kai had attended enough church services and listened to enough debates.
He kept being reminded of his parents over the last few days. It made sense in some kind of way, that the new worst time of his life would constantly call back to the old.
Rambling on with a light of anger and something approaching righteousness in her eyes, Meena sounded a whole lot like Kai’s mom had in some of those tense conversations that built up and up until they exploded.
He would have let her walk away, even with the weapon in hand, if that was all she’d done. It would have left him feeling sick now and guilty later, whenever he eventually found out what became of her down the line. But he would have just let her go.
“Hey!”
Maybe he was proving her right. As soon as the edge of the machete started to cut into Meena’s skin, the only thing Kai could do was rush forward to try to stop her. Panic and confusion kept him from being gentle as he grabbed at her arms and did his best to wrench the blade away from- everything. All the vulnerabilities that she had just exposed.
Free will and hatred and morality. The kind of thing that people loved to go on and on and on about. Kai had attended enough church services and listened to enough debates.
He kept being reminded of his parents over the last few days. It made sense in some kind of way, that the new worst time of his life would constantly call back to the old.
Rambling on with a light of anger and something approaching righteousness in her eyes, Meena sounded a whole lot like Kai’s mom had in some of those tense conversations that built up and up until they exploded.
He would have let her walk away, even with the weapon in hand, if that was all she’d done. It would have left him feeling sick now and guilty later, whenever he eventually found out what became of her down the line. But he would have just let her go.
“Hey!”
Maybe he was proving her right. As soon as the edge of the machete started to cut into Meena’s skin, the only thing Kai could do was rush forward to try to stop her. Panic and confusion kept him from being gentle as he grabbed at her arms and did his best to wrench the blade away from- everything. All the vulnerabilities that she had just exposed.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
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BlizzardeyeWonder
- Posts: 1086
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 3:41 pm
- Location: the shadow realm
The machete bit, and the beginning of the wound hissed. Meena couldn’t tell if it hurt more, less, or as much as his phobias thought it would, the stupid fucking phobia that he hoped to hack into pieces alongside his indecisions and failed and mediocre tests, cut through all the fat and smoke and mirrors and throw it all away. He’d be left with nothing. He wanted nothing. He chose nothing.
But, he wasn’t fast enough, and wasn’t quite decisive enough. Kai’s grasp went round his arm and he froze.
The wound hissed and stung, blood exposed to the air, running down his arm. He hadn’t cut very deep, and hadn’t hit a vein or artery - yet.
He stared at Kai with wide eyes, and the machete wavered in his grip.
…how dare he, really? Meena never liked him, he just- what was he even thinking?! He never knew Meena, either! He had no reason to save him, every reason to let him die, and he just-! Refused! Refused like Ren did!
Meena had to keep choosing nothing. “Don’t fucking touch me!”
The blade swung at Kai’s face.
But, he wasn’t fast enough, and wasn’t quite decisive enough. Kai’s grasp went round his arm and he froze.
The wound hissed and stung, blood exposed to the air, running down his arm. He hadn’t cut very deep, and hadn’t hit a vein or artery - yet.
He stared at Kai with wide eyes, and the machete wavered in his grip.
…how dare he, really? Meena never liked him, he just- what was he even thinking?! He never knew Meena, either! He had no reason to save him, every reason to let him die, and he just-! Refused! Refused like Ren did!
Meena had to keep choosing nothing. “Don’t fucking touch me!”
The blade swung at Kai’s face.
Kai had grabbed the arm holding the machete and was going for Meena’s other arm when she twisted out of his grip. His eyes flew wide when he caught just a momentary realization of how the machete’s trajectory had changed, and he jumped back, arms flying up to protect himself instead.
The curved point of the blade caught his jacket sleeve, halted for maybe a second by the fabric before ripping through both it and his shirt underneath. Kai yelped when it bit into his skin, driving him further back.
“Meena-” He didn’t have anything. He’d had no words good enough for DeMarcus. He knew with a flash of cold, sinking despair that he didn’t have any good enough for Meena either.
The curved point of the blade caught his jacket sleeve, halted for maybe a second by the fabric before ripping through both it and his shirt underneath. Kai yelped when it bit into his skin, driving him further back.
“Meena-” He didn’t have anything. He’d had no words good enough for DeMarcus. He knew with a flash of cold, sinking despair that he didn’t have any good enough for Meena either.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
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VoltTurtle
- Posts: 1527
- Joined: Fri Aug 10, 2018 4:10 pm
- Location: Dreamland
Everything happened so fast. Katelyn was left screaming in confusion and outrage in equal measure as Meena swung at Kai.
"STOP!"
Her voice was hoarse and shrill, a plea that fell on deaf ears.
"STOP THIS!"
On instinct, Katelyn reached down to pull the knife out of her boot. If Meena wanted to die so bad then she... she would...
Her hand trembled. Kai was trying to save him. Ren loved him. She couldn't kill him in front of them.
She was stiff, her limbs refusing to move, her mind twisted in a hundred different ways, unable to decide what to do.
"STOP!"
Her voice was hoarse and shrill, a plea that fell on deaf ears.
"STOP THIS!"
On instinct, Katelyn reached down to pull the knife out of her boot. If Meena wanted to die so bad then she... she would...
Her hand trembled. Kai was trying to save him. Ren loved him. She couldn't kill him in front of them.
She was stiff, her limbs refusing to move, her mind twisted in a hundred different ways, unable to decide what to do.
Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. How could Ren have missed the machete on the ground? How could they have let things even get to this point? How long have you wanted to die? they had asked, just a few days ago. They had known this was coming, had had plenty of time to prepare. How could they be so fucking stupid?
Ren had already released Kitty when Meena began his speech, had already tensed their muscles in expectation, and still, they were slow. Their body, stupid, frozen in panic, was in no mood to respond to input. In the time it took for Ren to push their body into moving, Kai had already grabbed Meena’s wrist; by the time they caught up, Meena had already hacked him off. Ren heard a yelp, but there was no time; they would have to trust that Kai hadn’t been hurt too badly.
Ren reached out for Meena’s wrist. He would see it coming, no doubt, had already fought off the same play from Kai—but there were no other options that Ren could think of. The mechanical repetitiveness of the act was definitely enough to finish Kai’s work and make Meena’s point for him, but that didn’t matter; Ren already knew he was right. They had always known that their will wasn’t their own.
The blade came down as expected, catching Ren across the back of their hand; they were too slow in jerking it back. No matter; the blade was out of the way now. Ren was free and clear. Two hands snaked out one after the other, one bloody, the other clean, and wrapped themselves firmly around Meena’s wrist. The blade went up again—tight though Ren’s grip was, they couldn’t keep Meena’s arm from moving—and Ren ducked, turned, twisted inside, wedged their body between Meena’s and the blade. They breathed.
Ren had already released Kitty when Meena began his speech, had already tensed their muscles in expectation, and still, they were slow. Their body, stupid, frozen in panic, was in no mood to respond to input. In the time it took for Ren to push their body into moving, Kai had already grabbed Meena’s wrist; by the time they caught up, Meena had already hacked him off. Ren heard a yelp, but there was no time; they would have to trust that Kai hadn’t been hurt too badly.
Ren reached out for Meena’s wrist. He would see it coming, no doubt, had already fought off the same play from Kai—but there were no other options that Ren could think of. The mechanical repetitiveness of the act was definitely enough to finish Kai’s work and make Meena’s point for him, but that didn’t matter; Ren already knew he was right. They had always known that their will wasn’t their own.
The blade came down as expected, catching Ren across the back of their hand; they were too slow in jerking it back. No matter; the blade was out of the way now. Ren was free and clear. Two hands snaked out one after the other, one bloody, the other clean, and wrapped themselves firmly around Meena’s wrist. The blade went up again—tight though Ren’s grip was, they couldn’t keep Meena’s arm from moving—and Ren ducked, turned, twisted inside, wedged their body between Meena’s and the blade. They breathed.
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BlizzardeyeWonder
- Posts: 1086
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 3:41 pm
- Location: the shadow realm
Meena wasn’t stupid enough to expect this to be easy, but he was at least expecting it to be… simple? Straightforward? Not outright confusing, not…
It wasn’t that he was scared. That wasn’t why the world felt sharper, brighter, and louder, or why his lungs felt shallow, or why blood rushed to his head and the cut on his arm. The feeling he had right after he shot Millie for the first time — and he wasn’t scared then!
Ren was trying to save him. Of course they were trying. How dare they? The wind stung Meena’s eyes, and the machete wavered between their grasps. How dare they?! He had been nothing but cruel to them during their whole time here! He just called them a dog without free will! And yet, here they were, stupidly putting themselves between Meena and the end and saying no, I won’t let you die like Meena knew they would, like they only ever could, as if they’d ever do anything else like they weren’t just going through the motions like a robot that didn’t really care about Meena only about doing the right thing or saving “friends” or- or-
Or maybe, despite everything, Ren still liked him, or the “him” they knew, anyway. It was like Ren trying to make themselves miserable. Getting Meena to accept their friendship was like pushing a boulder up a hill in Hades.
This too had to be cut away. It was Meena’s fault, really. He delayed severing this tie for too long.
He jerked the blade back, because — not despite — Ren being between it and him. Despite that he stopped right before the skin of Ren's neck.
It wasn’t that he was scared. That wasn’t why the world felt sharper, brighter, and louder, or why his lungs felt shallow, or why blood rushed to his head and the cut on his arm. The feeling he had right after he shot Millie for the first time — and he wasn’t scared then!
Ren was trying to save him. Of course they were trying. How dare they? The wind stung Meena’s eyes, and the machete wavered between their grasps. How dare they?! He had been nothing but cruel to them during their whole time here! He just called them a dog without free will! And yet, here they were, stupidly putting themselves between Meena and the end and saying no, I won’t let you die like Meena knew they would, like they only ever could, as if they’d ever do anything else like they weren’t just going through the motions like a robot that didn’t really care about Meena only about doing the right thing or saving “friends” or- or-
Or maybe, despite everything, Ren still liked him, or the “him” they knew, anyway. It was like Ren trying to make themselves miserable. Getting Meena to accept their friendship was like pushing a boulder up a hill in Hades.
This too had to be cut away. It was Meena’s fault, really. He delayed severing this tie for too long.
He jerked the blade back, because — not despite — Ren being between it and him. Despite that he stopped right before the skin of Ren's neck.
Ren hadn’t even begun to catch their breath when suddenly the machete was at their throat. Stupid. Of course Meena would; they had been an idiot for thinking he wouldn’t. Their breathing turned shallow; they resisted the urge to swallow. Somewhere in their peripheral vision, Kai was starting to move towards them; Ren gave him what they could only hope looked like a shake of the head. Their fingers wrapped more tightly around Meena’s wrist, and they tugged, they pulled, to no avail. Two arms against one, but the angle was wrong, or the leverage wasn’t right, or maybe Ren was just too damn weak.
“Please,” they breathed out. Even now, their voice was level, quiet and constrained. Impossible to be otherwise, if they didn’t want to be cut; impossible to use a voice that was actually capable of carrying emotion. Here was Ren, trying to beg and plead and save Meena’s life, and all they could muster up was their fucking library voice (which was actually just their normal voice). No wonder their words came out a mess.
“Please don’t–please don’t die, I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry I couldn’t—did I fuck up so bad? How did I fuck up, Meena, tell me, I’m sorry, I—do you really hate me so much that you’d kill me? Just to be able to kill yourself? Was I that bad? I’m sorry I don’t want you to die, I’m sorry, I know it’s selfish of me, I know, I know, but just tell me, tell me what I can do or say that will make you want to live again, or not want to die, or be willing to not die, or—or—”
They knew. In their heart, they knew their words would come to nothing. But they had no choice but to try. The reason Ren’s will had never been their own was because they had borrowed it, had scavenged and assembled it over time from the wills of those friends who had allowed Ren to build a self out of them. Ren owed them everything; they owed Meena everything. To let Meena die was to allow a part of themself to be undone.
“Just tell me, please, tell me tell me tell me…”
“Please,” they breathed out. Even now, their voice was level, quiet and constrained. Impossible to be otherwise, if they didn’t want to be cut; impossible to use a voice that was actually capable of carrying emotion. Here was Ren, trying to beg and plead and save Meena’s life, and all they could muster up was their fucking library voice (which was actually just their normal voice). No wonder their words came out a mess.
“Please don’t–please don’t die, I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry I couldn’t—did I fuck up so bad? How did I fuck up, Meena, tell me, I’m sorry, I—do you really hate me so much that you’d kill me? Just to be able to kill yourself? Was I that bad? I’m sorry I don’t want you to die, I’m sorry, I know it’s selfish of me, I know, I know, but just tell me, tell me what I can do or say that will make you want to live again, or not want to die, or be willing to not die, or—or—”
They knew. In their heart, they knew their words would come to nothing. But they had no choice but to try. The reason Ren’s will had never been their own was because they had borrowed it, had scavenged and assembled it over time from the wills of those friends who had allowed Ren to build a self out of them. Ren owed them everything; they owed Meena everything. To let Meena die was to allow a part of themself to be undone.
“Just tell me, please, tell me tell me tell me…”
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BlizzardeyeWonder
- Posts: 1086
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 3:41 pm
- Location: the shadow realm
Meena’s grip wavered.
He drew the machete in, slowly, but ready to tear right through Ren to get to Meena.
He drew the machete in, slowly, but ready to tear right through Ren to get to Meena.
The blade broke skin, cutting off Ren's pleas. They resisted the urge to gasp; the pain wasn’t great, or shouldn’t have been, but it shocked them, somehow, to feel cold metal burying itself in their throat. It shocked them that Meena actually did what they had known he would do.
It wasn’t deep. Nothing vital had been hit, it seemed; the blood coming from their neck felt more like a drip than a gush. With Meena pressing harder, it was only a matter of time. Ren pulled at Meena’s arm, hoping, desperate to find the strength that supposedly only came in times of life or death; Meena remained unmoved.
He was dead. Meena was dead, and if Ren stayed where they were, they were dead too. Their words—so many in number, spread out over so many days, weeks, years—had been entirely useless. Still they waited, refused to leave, hoping for something—an idea, an inkling of an idea, or perhaps Meena would have a change of heart on his own. Nothing they really believed in, but they wouldn’t give up until they had to, even as the blade pressed deeper into their neck.
They waited.
“I’m not going to stop thinking of you as a friend, you know.” They were calm, now. There was only the faintest trace of a sob in their voice.
They waited.
The blood oozing from their neck turned from a drip to a trickle.
They waited.
And then they pulled away, and let go.
It wasn’t deep. Nothing vital had been hit, it seemed; the blood coming from their neck felt more like a drip than a gush. With Meena pressing harder, it was only a matter of time. Ren pulled at Meena’s arm, hoping, desperate to find the strength that supposedly only came in times of life or death; Meena remained unmoved.
He was dead. Meena was dead, and if Ren stayed where they were, they were dead too. Their words—so many in number, spread out over so many days, weeks, years—had been entirely useless. Still they waited, refused to leave, hoping for something—an idea, an inkling of an idea, or perhaps Meena would have a change of heart on his own. Nothing they really believed in, but they wouldn’t give up until they had to, even as the blade pressed deeper into their neck.
They waited.
“I’m not going to stop thinking of you as a friend, you know.” They were calm, now. There was only the faintest trace of a sob in their voice.
They waited.
The blood oozing from their neck turned from a drip to a trickle.
They waited.
And then they pulled away, and let go.
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BlizzardeyeWonder
- Posts: 1086
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 3:41 pm
- Location: the shadow realm
Ren was gone. Meena was free. They would rejoin the others without him, just like he always knew they would.
Blood draped his arm now. His hands shook, and he stared.
He always knew they would leave, and he always wanted to choose exactly how they left his life. He expected it to hurt, but.
He wanted to say something biting and spiteful about it, even the score, but instead what came out of his mouth was a shriek, as he made another cut.
Meena wanted to die because everything was fake and nobody had free will except to choose when they died, if they were brave(?) enough. Meena wanted to die because he was awful and everybody hated him anyway and would be happy if he died. Meena wanted to die because he was so fucking sick of life, and the world, and society, and the only person he could take all that anger out on was himself. There were a hundred reasons and none of them really mattered on their own.
Blood ran thicker from the cuts. He stared at his bloodied arm, and then at Ren, Kai, Kitty.
“You- you keep- LIAR!” he screamed, putting the blade back to his arm. “You- you all fucking hate me or you don’t know me! You- you’re not fucking blind so- so just- FUCK!”
If Meena’s journal wasn’t confiscated, he might have written all these words down instead of babbling them out here. He would have written until the words themselves died out. He would have stared at the journal and wondered that maybe it was lucky that he had a friend that could hear all those words and still forgive, still be patient. Journaling was common advice. He was annoyed whenever it worked.
“Everyone who’s ever hurt me has suffered more than me! And- and where the fuck does that put me?! Just accept it?! You- that’s the only difference between you and Chloe!” He dragged the blade along his arm, making a third cut, as he muttered, “People like her make you suffer make me suffer make- make-”
He gasped, his vision was getting blurry, and his face was starting to have tears stain his cheeks.
Somewhere, in the depths of their message history and/or the many imaginary conversations he made up in his head on a daily basis, Meena and Ren must have had a version of this conversation. Back in the old world, the Ren in Meena’s head would have just told him that something like say, Esper dragging him along, wasn’t some cosmic inevitability on either of their ends. For what it was worth, until four days ago, the Ren in Meena’s head never lied to him.
Another slice. He stepped back again, more like a stumble. The world was beginning to fog, like it did after a rainstorm. He blinked rapidly, and couldn’t clear his eyes. He was starting to choke on sobs.
“I HATE YOU ALL TOO!” he yelled with all the air left in his lungs, though the words began to curdle. “I KNOW you all- they ALL-! This whole fucking school is a fucking cesspit and just- ALL OF US should die! I hope nobody! Fucking! Wins!”
Where was Ren? Right in front of him, on the ground, but too close and too far. He looked down, slightly, just barely being able to make out their figure.
“You…”
He heaved, and drew in a deep breath, knees weak. The machete threatened to slip out of his grasp. He caught it just in time, and raised it.
“You… You were NEVER! My friend!”
And this time, he slashed across an artery, it seemed. The spurt, the shock, was immediate, even amidst how much everything already hurt. Finally, his legs gave out from under him, and the machete fell from his hand. He landed, cushioned by the cold snow.
On Meena’s confiscated phone, there was a message typed up,
His fingers grasped, and brushed over metal. He tried to clutch it, even as he doubled over, and curled in on himself. Blood stained the snow around his arm, tears fell from his face and dissolved on impact with the frosted ground.
He chose death, even when he didn’t want to, in the same way he didn’t want to go to some appointment or another, but knew he needed to. So he willed himself to drag the machete back to him, but his fingers just couldn’t obey anymore.
“Go away,” he sobbed into the snow, tucking his head in, hiding from the sky. A last ditch attempt to shove Ren, Kai, Kitty, everything Meena could never have, away. “Go away…”
In some other present or future, their bus made it to that ski resort, and he woke up one day and went down for breakfast. Instead of eating alone, he’d sit by Ren and their friends, for once. He wouldn’t say anything, really. Honestly this would end in flames just like any other future Meena imagined, that’s what he kept telling himself, over and over, as he faded into his visions. But maybe that day, he would have been able to say, out loud, actually, could you all call me Akshya?
S018 - DECEASED
[Meena Lalita Kumar reached the end of the spiral. 91 students remain.]
Blood draped his arm now. His hands shook, and he stared.
He always knew they would leave, and he always wanted to choose exactly how they left his life. He expected it to hurt, but.
He wanted to say something biting and spiteful about it, even the score, but instead what came out of his mouth was a shriek, as he made another cut.
Meena wanted to die because everything was fake and nobody had free will except to choose when they died, if they were brave(?) enough. Meena wanted to die because he was awful and everybody hated him anyway and would be happy if he died. Meena wanted to die because he was so fucking sick of life, and the world, and society, and the only person he could take all that anger out on was himself. There were a hundred reasons and none of them really mattered on their own.
Blood ran thicker from the cuts. He stared at his bloodied arm, and then at Ren, Kai, Kitty.
“You- you keep- LIAR!” he screamed, putting the blade back to his arm. “You- you all fucking hate me or you don’t know me! You- you’re not fucking blind so- so just- FUCK!”
If Meena’s journal wasn’t confiscated, he might have written all these words down instead of babbling them out here. He would have written until the words themselves died out. He would have stared at the journal and wondered that maybe it was lucky that he had a friend that could hear all those words and still forgive, still be patient. Journaling was common advice. He was annoyed whenever it worked.
“Everyone who’s ever hurt me has suffered more than me! And- and where the fuck does that put me?! Just accept it?! You- that’s the only difference between you and Chloe!” He dragged the blade along his arm, making a third cut, as he muttered, “People like her make you suffer make me suffer make- make-”
He gasped, his vision was getting blurry, and his face was starting to have tears stain his cheeks.
Somewhere, in the depths of their message history and/or the many imaginary conversations he made up in his head on a daily basis, Meena and Ren must have had a version of this conversation. Back in the old world, the Ren in Meena’s head would have just told him that something like say, Esper dragging him along, wasn’t some cosmic inevitability on either of their ends. For what it was worth, until four days ago, the Ren in Meena’s head never lied to him.
Another slice. He stepped back again, more like a stumble. The world was beginning to fog, like it did after a rainstorm. He blinked rapidly, and couldn’t clear his eyes. He was starting to choke on sobs.
“I HATE YOU ALL TOO!” he yelled with all the air left in his lungs, though the words began to curdle. “I KNOW you all- they ALL-! This whole fucking school is a fucking cesspit and just- ALL OF US should die! I hope nobody! Fucking! Wins!”
Where was Ren? Right in front of him, on the ground, but too close and too far. He looked down, slightly, just barely being able to make out their figure.
“You…”
He heaved, and drew in a deep breath, knees weak. The machete threatened to slip out of his grasp. He caught it just in time, and raised it.
“You… You were NEVER! My friend!”
And this time, he slashed across an artery, it seemed. The spurt, the shock, was immediate, even amidst how much everything already hurt. Finally, his legs gave out from under him, and the machete fell from his hand. He landed, cushioned by the cold snow.
On Meena’s confiscated phone, there was a message typed up,
His fingers grasped, and brushed over metal. He tried to clutch it, even as he doubled over, and curled in on himself. Blood stained the snow around his arm, tears fell from his face and dissolved on impact with the frosted ground.
He chose death, even when he didn’t want to, in the same way he didn’t want to go to some appointment or another, but knew he needed to. So he willed himself to drag the machete back to him, but his fingers just couldn’t obey anymore.
“Go away,” he sobbed into the snow, tucking his head in, hiding from the sky. A last ditch attempt to shove Ren, Kai, Kitty, everything Meena could never have, away. “Go away…”
In some other present or future, their bus made it to that ski resort, and he woke up one day and went down for breakfast. Instead of eating alone, he’d sit by Ren and their friends, for once. He wouldn’t say anything, really. Honestly this would end in flames just like any other future Meena imagined, that’s what he kept telling himself, over and over, as he faded into his visions. But maybe that day, he would have been able to say, out loud, actually, could you all call me Akshya?
S018 - DECEASED
[Meena Lalita Kumar reached the end of the spiral. 91 students remain.]
Kai dropped to his knees next to Ren when they fell, his hands pressing over their own where they held their neck to stem the bleeding.
And he stared, ashen-faced and mute with horror, as Meena screamed her heart out at them and slashed and bled and died.
He pulled Ren up and back, tight against his chest. Tight enough to keep them from wriggling out of his grasp and crawling over to her. Like he was afraid she'd pop up one last time like a horror movie monster and finish the job.
Tiny spots of Kai's blood dotted the snow and tarmac next to Ren's. He finally became aware again that he'd been cut. The frigid air stung him where it could now creep in through his cut sleeve and touch the shallow slice in his arm.
He wanted to say he was sorry again. He didn't know to whom. His tongue remained dead in his mouth anyway.
And he stared, ashen-faced and mute with horror, as Meena screamed her heart out at them and slashed and bled and died.
He pulled Ren up and back, tight against his chest. Tight enough to keep them from wriggling out of his grasp and crawling over to her. Like he was afraid she'd pop up one last time like a horror movie monster and finish the job.
Tiny spots of Kai's blood dotted the snow and tarmac next to Ren's. He finally became aware again that he'd been cut. The frigid air stung him where it could now creep in through his cut sleeve and touch the shallow slice in his arm.
He wanted to say he was sorry again. He didn't know to whom. His tongue remained dead in his mouth anyway.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
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VoltTurtle
- Posts: 1527
- Joined: Fri Aug 10, 2018 4:10 pm
- Location: Dreamland
Katelyn had ruined everything, again. She stood there, still frozen, paralyzed with the knowledge that she was to blame once again.
It hadn't taken more than a few minutes after reuniting with her friends. Meena might not be added to her official count, but he might as well have, given that she provided the means with which he ended his own life. He was Ren's friend, and they loved him, and she had killed him. Everywhere she went, she caused trouble, no matter if she wanted to or not. What a horrible friend, she was.
She thought about what he had said to her in his last moments. That she was just an animal, lashing out at those around her, not actively choosing to do anything she did, and instead only acting on instinct. Her heart had hurt, hearing him tear right into the core of her being, exposing her inner, animal evil for all the world to see. He wasn't entirely right, she had chosen to do a lot of the horrible things she did, but the sentiment was true. The spark that set everything off was done in the heat of the moment, with no consideration as to what would happen after.
Her gaze shot over to Ren, where they had fallen, and where Kai was holding them. They were both bleeding, Ren more urgently than Kai, and that needed to stop. She couldn't bear to lose them too. Maybe, just maybe, she could redeem herself in their eyes, and they wouldn't hate her for what she had done.
She put her knife away and pulled out her first-aid kit, before rushing over to Ren and Kai's sides. She took off her mittens, ignoring the cold nipping at her skin as she knelt in the snow, and put on her sterile gloves, before getting out her stitches and bandages.
"I'm s-sorry," she squeaked, sniffling, her eyes watering. "I- I'm so, s-so, SO, s-sorry, Ren."
Her hands shook as she fumbled to thread the needle.
"Th-This w-was my f-fault," because everything always went to hell in her presence, "I'm s-sorry. I-I'm sorry!"
It hadn't taken more than a few minutes after reuniting with her friends. Meena might not be added to her official count, but he might as well have, given that she provided the means with which he ended his own life. He was Ren's friend, and they loved him, and she had killed him. Everywhere she went, she caused trouble, no matter if she wanted to or not. What a horrible friend, she was.
She thought about what he had said to her in his last moments. That she was just an animal, lashing out at those around her, not actively choosing to do anything she did, and instead only acting on instinct. Her heart had hurt, hearing him tear right into the core of her being, exposing her inner, animal evil for all the world to see. He wasn't entirely right, she had chosen to do a lot of the horrible things she did, but the sentiment was true. The spark that set everything off was done in the heat of the moment, with no consideration as to what would happen after.
Her gaze shot over to Ren, where they had fallen, and where Kai was holding them. They were both bleeding, Ren more urgently than Kai, and that needed to stop. She couldn't bear to lose them too. Maybe, just maybe, she could redeem herself in their eyes, and they wouldn't hate her for what she had done.
She put her knife away and pulled out her first-aid kit, before rushing over to Ren and Kai's sides. She took off her mittens, ignoring the cold nipping at her skin as she knelt in the snow, and put on her sterile gloves, before getting out her stitches and bandages.
"I'm s-sorry," she squeaked, sniffling, her eyes watering. "I- I'm so, s-so, SO, s-sorry, Ren."
Her hands shook as she fumbled to thread the needle.
"Th-This w-was my f-fault," because everything always went to hell in her presence, "I'm s-sorry. I-I'm sorry!"
Meena's words rang in Ren's ears, stinging, burning, stabbing into them over and over. They had watched from beginning to end without moving, watched even as their vision began swimming and Meena became a vague and blurry shape of himself, bearing down on them, staggering, collapsing in front of them. It was what they owed him. It was what they deserved for failing him.
You were never my friend.
Ren believed him. Except that was underselling it: Meena had only confirmed something that they already suspected to be true.
I know I wasn't. I know. I know, I know, I know, but still, you were mine.
Slowly, Ren became aware of Kitty at their side, apologizing, hands fumbling with needle and thread. Of Kai's arms around them, his hands over the open wound in their throat. Ren didn't know when he had done that. They felt safe in his arms, warm, comforted--and so they immediately began straining against him, trying to squirm out of his grasp. They knew it was no use. They hadn't been strong enough to hold off Meena when both of their lives had depended on it; there wasn't a chance they would be strong enough to overpower Kai now. And yet--if Meena was still alive, he would no longer be able to stop them from saving his life.
They needed to keep their voice calm. For some reason that felt very important to them. They were convinced somehow that Kai--and probably Kitty, too--wouldn't listen to them if it wasn't, if their words sounded like the ramblings of someone too grief-stricken to think. "Kitty--check Meena first please. I'll be fine. I promise. Let me go Kai. Let me go please. He might--he might still be alive, and if there's a chance then we have to--we have to make sure. Just in case. If there's still a chance to save him and we miss it, I'll--I'll--"
You were never my friend.
Ren believed him. Except that was underselling it: Meena had only confirmed something that they already suspected to be true.
I know I wasn't. I know. I know, I know, I know, but still, you were mine.
Slowly, Ren became aware of Kitty at their side, apologizing, hands fumbling with needle and thread. Of Kai's arms around them, his hands over the open wound in their throat. Ren didn't know when he had done that. They felt safe in his arms, warm, comforted--and so they immediately began straining against him, trying to squirm out of his grasp. They knew it was no use. They hadn't been strong enough to hold off Meena when both of their lives had depended on it; there wasn't a chance they would be strong enough to overpower Kai now. And yet--if Meena was still alive, he would no longer be able to stop them from saving his life.
They needed to keep their voice calm. For some reason that felt very important to them. They were convinced somehow that Kai--and probably Kitty, too--wouldn't listen to them if it wasn't, if their words sounded like the ramblings of someone too grief-stricken to think. "Kitty--check Meena first please. I'll be fine. I promise. Let me go Kai. Let me go please. He might--he might still be alive, and if there's a chance then we have to--we have to make sure. Just in case. If there's still a chance to save him and we miss it, I'll--I'll--"
He. Kai hadn't known.
Meena was right about that much. Kai knew even less than he'd thought he did.
He was comfortable not knowing most of his classmates that well. Most didn't seem that interested in knowing him in return. He had the people he cared about, and so did everyone else. He'd assumed so, anyway.
The main thing he could take away from Meena's shockingly hateful last words was that apparently, the act of not knowing was some kind of violence in itself. So Meena had felt, at least.
"Ren." Kai's voice was soft and hoarse. The quiet around them rang in his ears now. Just like it had after the gunshots from DeMarcus. From Salem.
"He's gone." Meena wasn't breathing. There was no playing possum with that much blood. He exhaled, and another layer of numb grief settled over him like a blanket.
Kai squeezed Ren tighter. "Be still for a minute and let us help you." The only thing he could think to do now. Stop the bleeding. Patch it up and then-
And then-
Meena was right about that much. Kai knew even less than he'd thought he did.
He was comfortable not knowing most of his classmates that well. Most didn't seem that interested in knowing him in return. He had the people he cared about, and so did everyone else. He'd assumed so, anyway.
The main thing he could take away from Meena's shockingly hateful last words was that apparently, the act of not knowing was some kind of violence in itself. So Meena had felt, at least.
"Ren." Kai's voice was soft and hoarse. The quiet around them rang in his ears now. Just like it had after the gunshots from DeMarcus. From Salem.
"He's gone." Meena wasn't breathing. There was no playing possum with that much blood. He exhaled, and another layer of numb grief settled over him like a blanket.
Kai squeezed Ren tighter. "Be still for a minute and let us help you." The only thing he could think to do now. Stop the bleeding. Patch it up and then-
And then-
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."