Raised in Captivity

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((Iris Waite continued from Shawn's Marvelous Medicine))

Iris had no destination in mind during her mad dash away from the research station, so it was obvious she'd have gotten herself lost. It felt like she'd gotten all turned around as soon as she hit the treeline, between the dense woods and the increasingly heavy snowfall. All she had was the bag that she carried with her now, just like when she'd fled the church, only worse, because now there were no friends to find, nobody who would come rescue her and bandage her wounds and tell her that things were going to be okay.

The only reason she hadn't frozen to death was because of the things that other dead people had left behind. An abandoned makeshift shelter here, the remains of a firepit there. Signs of life that no longer promised comfort and safety, but which at least pointed her to the places that she could shelter from the elements, for now. Her own sad attempts at a campfire using the first-aid kit lighter and whatever damp tinder she could find were pitiful next to the one Richard had been able to make with his Boy Scouts experience, but they gave her just a little bit of warmth regardless. Just a little bit to keep her going.

The snow was still falling when she emerged onto the shore of the lake the next morning. It almost looked like a mirage, with the way she kept having to blink away snowflakes and shake her head to clear the ones that clung to her hat and her hair. Iris trudged to the edge of the water's frozen surface and poked at it with the tip of her boot. It seemed solid.

She stared out across the expanse of the ice. With the way the snow was piling up, it was impossible to tell where the ice was solid all the way through, and where it would be thin enough to crack.

Her eyes stung. That morning she'd woken up to find her eyelashes frozen to her cheeks. The only tears she had left were the tears of pain that forcing her eyes open and having to pluck a few loosened eyelashes from her vision, from her skin, had caused.

Iris had always hated being alone. She'd always lived in fear that she was going to end up that way. She loved her dad, more than anyone on earth, but she'd always been afraid that he was the only person who was ever going to love her. That she was going to end up still living in his house at twenty-five, thirty, forty. That he'd end up an old man, and Iris would be middle-aged and still living in the house with him, taking care of him when he was no longer able to take care of himself, and that was all her life would end up being.

She pressed one foot to the edge of the ice again and leaned forward on it, testing her weight. It held.

She took a step.

The ice crackled under her, but still, it held.

She was alone now. She maybe could have explained what had happened to the boys. Richard might have forgiven her. Darryl and Shawn, she wasn't so sure, but Richard probably would have, even if he knew that she couldn't make excuses like June had about not meaning it. He'd seen how hurt and scared she was on the first day.

June was still alive. Iris didn't think that a dying person could have screamed with such force, but either way, their names were both absent from the announcement. After her hysteria had faded, Iris had spent a lot of yesterday as she stumbled around in the wilderness wondering just how badly she should hope that June had been hurt.

She took another step. The ice held. She had to put her arms out for balance as she moved fully out onto the lake's surface, shuffling more than taking proper steps.

All Iris had wanted was comfort, and June had hurt her for it. Then she'd turned around and done the same thing when their positions were reversed. She'd wondered about that too, if June had felt the exact same way that she had; whether she knew that reassurance and gentleness were all Iris wanted, and that she just didn't want to give it in return. That she was so furious it was even being asked of her, so angry that she just couldn't think to do anything else other than what she had done.

But Iris hadn't hurt anybody before June shoved her down the cellar steps and then stuffed her into a barrel like garbage. June was dangerous.

She couldn't help feeling that if June had died right then and there, if she'd fallen just a bit farther and landed just a bit harder... would she feel more like she'd done the right thing? If she hadn't stopped at just hurting, but had put an end to everything in one fell swoop?

She took another step. The ice creaked, and she froze.

Iris stared down at the lake's frozen surface through the white mist of her breath. She was faintly reflected there, a blurry humanoid shape in gray. Her face was warped into a caricature of human features, with dark black pools for eyes and a gaping hole of a mouth.

If she kept going right here and now, and stopped herself from hurting, would that be a good thing?

Iris had never, ever entertained suicide before. She'd been hurt and upset and laughed at and taken advantage of, but she'd never wanted to end her own life. She had a future. She had things to live for. She should want to live.

Shouldn't she? Wasn't that what she should want?

She'd lost count of how many people had died. The names and faces slipped away with time, day by day and announcement by announcement. It had been a week, though, she knew that much. Iris Waite, weird and awkward and a stalker and a freak, had lasted one week longer than at least some people. Only one day longer than some others.

But she'd lasted.

She'd lasted this long, but Iris wasn't sure that she saw a light at the end of the tunnel.

But... what else was she supposed to do?

Iris exhaled long and slow, and then slowly took a step backwards. The ice creaked, and she froze again for a moment before taking another step back.

All her life, she'd spent time feeling like she had no choice in what she did. She wanted to make people happy, to make them like her, so she did what they wanted, and sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn't. She wanted to make her dad proud. She wanted to go to college and meet someone who would fall head over heels in love with her and get married and have a career that helped people and let her live comfortably.

It all sounded so useless and stupid when she laid it out like that. All Iris's loftiest dreams were just the normal kinds of things everybody else wanted.

And now, what everyone else wanted, whether they knew it consciously or not, was Iris dead.

She closed her eyes and relived the moment that her hands met June's back. The second of June feeling like an immovable wall, and then the second that she toppled.

She took another step back, and another, until her feet hit the shore. She stumbled a little in the transition between ice and solid ground, but she caught herself before she fell.

Iris didn't know what she wanted. But she didn't want to give everybody else what they were asking for anymore.

...Was that it? That was her great epiphany? Just that?

Iris deflated, opening her eyes and looking around at the lake and trees again. Even though there were technically plants everywhere, it felt so empty and barren. She hated being alone.

She was just going to have to get used to it.

((Iris Waite continued in Return the Slab, or Suffer My Curse))