[ A pause. A long one — no typing dots, no disappearing and reappearing bubbles. Just silence, stretching the way oceans do in the middle of the night. An open expanse.
And that was winter one. Jake rereads the sentence three times over before he even thinks about replying at all. Thinks, again, about 1996. He was barely double digits. Nat got on a plane. They were all just kids from school. People are dying, and he doesn't trust shit.
( maybe he thinks she told him because he wants to know, or because she wants to be comforted, or because she's scared, or alone, or seeking absolution. it might all be true, but none of it is the reason — and the reason is because nat wants a bullet in the brain more than she wants her next breath. why won't anyone hate her for this? )
us. all of us. you. spike. ren. that's all i know. maybe more. people can guess what happened out there. everyone knows we were in a crash.
[ Not the first time — not by a long shot — he thinks of Bradshaw. This place. This earth, maybe. How is that your first question. Pixels by the letter, and yet he can still imagine how it might echo What's that supposed to mean. Mangled tone, raw pitch. Long, storied hole where his heart used to be. ]
[ but really we're the ones who killed her — we acted like that was fine — so you should stay the fuck away from me.
And to Jake Seresin, who's dared immutable forces like sky and sun and gravity to hold him and still come out the other side swinging, like none of it ever cost him a thing, the math is simple. ]
You're the one that has to live with it Not a question left I'm sure you haven't asked yourself.
( she wants to say — she wants to say he's wrong, for giving an inch. girls are evil this way, like burrowing worms, like a virus you can't shake. she'll take every kindness he gives her and use it until it's threadbare and raw, because that's what she is on the inside, deep down: the hunter, the survivalist, the girl in the woods willing to do anything to survive. she wants to say, you don't know half of it. she wants to say, sometimes we ate when we weren't even hungry. she wants to say, the wilderness turned us all into animals, and then it sent us here.
what she says, )
you're so fucked in the head, dude. you're just straight up not normal.
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no subject
And that was winter one. Jake rereads the sentence three times over before he even thinks about replying at all. Thinks, again, about 1996. He was barely double digits. Nat got on a plane. They were all just kids from school. People are dying, and he doesn't trust shit.
At length: ]
How many people know?
no subject
( maybe he thinks she told him because he wants to know, or because she wants to be comforted, or because she's scared, or alone, or seeking absolution. it might all be true, but none of it is the reason — and the reason is because nat wants a bullet in the brain more than she wants her next breath. why won't anyone hate her for this? )
us. all of us.
you. spike. ren. that's all i know. maybe more. people can guess what happened out there. everyone knows we were in a crash.
no subject
What'd you think I'd ask.
"How could you?"
no subject
yeah
or general disgust
no subject
[ but really we're the ones who killed her — we acted like that was fine — so you should stay the fuck away from me.
And to Jake Seresin, who's dared immutable forces like sky and sun and gravity to hold him and still come out the other side swinging, like none of it ever cost him a thing, the math is simple. ]
You're the one that has to live with it
Not a question left I'm sure you haven't asked yourself.
no subject
what she says, )
you're so fucked in the head, dude. you're just straight up not normal.
how's your face?