The Beast That Shouted "I" at the Heart of the World

[Skraal]

((Billie Sommerfield continued from Yo dawg, I heard you like SOTF, so... Wait, you hate SOTF?!? Well, sucks to be you, pal.))

Billie winced as a rush of cold air hit her face as she made her way out through the mouth of the cave. She barely noticed the sounds of the boys talking behind her as she continued outward, coming to a stop once she had made a decent amount of distance from the exit. She still wasn't sure if she was comfortable doing an inspection like this, but, regardless, she wanted to be alone ... like usual. Few things were more frustrating than having unhappy thoughts run through your head while people around you continued to jabber on obliviously about nothing in particular. Not like it was their problem to care though; in fact, Billie had learned from experience that the worst thing you can do when you feel bad is to dump that pain into someone else's lap. Sure, it felt good in the moment, but in the end, it was like scratching an itch by punching someone else in the face. Eventually, the relief becomes less and less effective, and your relationship with that person becomes less that of a friend and more of an emotional vampire, draining out any happiness that they might have in a desperate attempt to fill the bottomless void inside of you. It just yet another one of those harsh truths of life, that in the end, nobody can really help you feel better. You either pulled yourself out of that dark hole, or you were stuck there forever.

She sighed, eyes travelling downward across the dead, useless meat that comprised the lower half of her body as the dark feeling of despair slowly clawing at the edges of her mind. What could she even do? She didn't want to die here, but what else could she do? Even if by some miracle, she managed to steal a gun from somebody (hypothetically, one of the guys back in the cave), her chances of using it effectively in a fight against someone else were tiny. Hiding until the end would also be just delaying the inevitable, and realistically speaking, a rescue attempt like what happened that one time wasn't on the table either. Billie swallowed, her hand balling up into a fist as she struggled to force herself not to cry, the burning behind her eyes intensifying as the hopelessness of her situation continued to weigh down on her.

It would be a massive understatement to say that this really fucking sucked. It wasn't that she was super happy back home, but at least she had something. With her computer, she at least was able to distract herself from the daily frustrations of life through escapism. Now all that remained with her were thoughts of movies she would never get to watch, music that she would never get to listen to, and friends that she would never get to talk to again. Her life had ended the moment she woke up on this island, and everything after was just part of an incredibly drawn out death scene. Nothing she could do would change that, all that was going to happen was her wandering around this wasteland until someone finally decided to put her out of her misery.

Still, what was she going to do about it? As much as the lurking spectre of suicide tempted her, she'd be damned if she gave the people running this show the satisfaction of seeing her off herself. She had made it this long already, after all, and quitting now would just be a waste. No matter how much suffering she experienced, she was going to force herself onward, continuing her existence out of pure spite, and in the end, once someone finally came to put an end to her life she was going to do as much as humanly possible to make them regret it.

Her internal monologue was abruptly halted by a clump of snow falling off the tree beside her, or more accurately falling straight onto her head. She felt her heart stop the moment it happened, a brief flash of panic rushing by before she finally realized what had happened. Billie groaned, wiping her head awkwardly before glancing around, experiencing a small but significant relief at the confirmation that nobody was around to see that. She continued to stare off into the distance, retreating yet again into her thoughts, though this time into something slightly less depressing - a small mercy, perhaps.

Or at least, until she heard a gunshot.

((Billie Sommerfield continued in She said, "Don't make others suffer for your personal hatred."))