( it's there again, that evergreen forest of darkness inside all these girls — it's tai breaking allie's leg, these learned, terrible behaviors that just exist in them, festering, some sickness of girlhood. despite what shauna says, natalie doesn't believe herself to be a saint in light of it all. sometimes, she thinks she's the worst one in the bunch — preaching goodness but still letting javi die for her, the youngest of them all, who had a brother who would do anything for him. what does nat have? what right does she have to her own life? you think about jackie, about javi, about coach. fully formed people with lives, not deadbeats chasing one high after the next, drowning in their avoidance.
it does disturb her, but she also gets it. sometimes she wakes up from dreams where she bashes shauna's head in with a rock with a warm, almost contentment burrowed in her chest. it wants feeding. it says yes, natalie. get worse. you know where you're headed. )
What the fuck.
( more murmured under her breath than actually asked. natalie gets up abruptly, gnawing at her thumbnail, eyes a little frantic when she looks back at melissa — there was an implication, once. nat asking shauna how the hunt ended, shauna telling her ask travis. she's been terrified it means he got hunted, that she's in love with a corpse, that she might save all the girls in the world, but there's no hope for her, ultimately. everything lives and breathes with travis. this is the moment she loses it all.
[ Melissa bites down on her lower lip, hard. It's not like she and Mari were ever best friends. Mostly, it was proximity. Mari had always been Gen's friend, and Melissa would be there too. But Mari never complained about her presence. She was fun, and could be surprisingly sweet, and when she wasn't being sweet, her verbal barbs were both sharp and weird enough to make Melissa laugh. She brought candy to every away game so everyone had something to eat on the bus ride home.
She had been one of them, and then she had been a broken body at the bottom of that pit. Melissa had brushed her fingers through a lock of Mari's black hair and then used a bone to pin it to the front of Shauna's robes like it was a fucking prize that she deserved, and then they'd sat around the fire and she'd listened to Gen crying softly while she ate. It's all so fucked. ]
( it ends on a gasp rather than a syllable, nat lifting a hand up to cover her mouth and then quickly turning to face the opposite wall, shoulders shaking. it doesn't take any effort to make the tears spill over. mari was a friend. mari was — she believed in lottie's dumbfuck nonsense, mari was there during the hunts and in the games, mari made gifts at shauna's baby shower, danced with them while the radio died, made fucking — fucking soup for the girls to eat. and worst of all, mari
nat thought she saved her. this whole time. a little victory to pad out the grief, mari fucking died while nat wasn't even in the running. nat got them out, is getting them out, and these dumbass hungry girls couldn't wait — what, another week? a month?
she rubs her palms over her eyes, sniffing loudly, grossly, before crossing back over the room, shaking hands ripping open a bedside table and taking out a bottle of vodka. she chugs a little, and feels no better for it, flopping on her bed and shaking the bottle at mel in offering. she'll have to come over to grab it. when their eyes lock, nat's are bloodshot and watery and sad and vacant, not wholly there. )
How did it — did it happen? ( she tries to be stern. queenly. no, she's not a giant fucking crybaby. she understands tragedy like its always been a friend to her, like it can't hurt her anymore, like there's always been a dark place inside for her to curl up and hide in when life gets too real. ) Tell me.
[ It comes out choked and small. Natalie was climbing through the snow trying to get them rescued at the same moment Mari was dying, and Melissa really is sorry. No, she didn't act alone, but she'd been the first one to suggest a hunt. What happened after that rests on her shoulders.
She crosses the room and takes the bottle from Nat, brings it to her lips and drinks with a grimace. The vodka burns going down and pools in her stomach like acid. She takes another drink before she offers the bottle back. ]
She shouldn't have died. I don't know why— [ Mel swipes a hand across her cheek, frustrated, grieving. ] Nobody was even hunting her besides Shauna and Tai and Lottie, and we planned for that, we split them up and distracted them. [ It should have worked. She keeps going over and over and over everything in her head and coming to the same conclusion every time. It was a stupid plan but it still should have worked. ]
She fell. That hole, the place Coach Scott found her when she fucked up her knee? Someone like—filled it up with fucking spikes and covered it like a pit trap.
[ Mel doesn't know who, or why, but Mari is dead and Shauna ordered them to fill the hole in, and there's nothing she can do to take any of it back. She sits on the edge of Nat's bed and lets the burn of the vodka spread through her, trickling down her arms, her fingertips. It doesn't make her feel better or worse, just... less real. ]
( she's not exactly sorry she asked, but it's worse once she knows, imagining — what? mari's twitching body speared on a hundred sharpened spikes? who had the time? who was planning for a hunt that long? towards the end, natalie was under almost constant surveillance by shauna, but she knows the others weren't as monitored — so? does that mean any of them could've done it, with means and opportunity and a drive towards meat?
easy to blame shauna. except — shauna's their butcher and knows what a pain split stomach acid and bowels and gooey guts torn by imprecise motions can be when it comes to preparing the feast. this is a lesson natalie knows now too, watching her fingers point out the places to cut coach open, where to avoid, how to make it easy for yourself, motions almost maternal in nature. a strange kindness, like she knew and enjoyed what a cruel thing she demanded from natalie, but didn't require an excess of her suffering, a real mother in that way, disciplining her offspring. for pure practicality, nat can't imagine shauna killing someone in a way that makes more work for her. maybe someone else prepared the feast, while queen shauna sat in her throne? but would she pass on the chance to celebrate her idea of worship? what would mari taste like, if shauna had nothing to do with it?
accepting the bottle, nat rolls over, dropping it on the floor. ) No, fuck this. ( she rustles through her bedside table, fetching a grinder, baggy, rolling papers, and sets to the motion poorly with her shaking hands, dumping the green in an almost even line and rolling it as tight as she can, licking the left over paper to seal it shut.
she gestures to the table on the other side next to mel. ) There's a lighter in there.
[ The great thing about the vodka is that it makes her stop feeling as sad about Mari. She's not any happier but the grief and guilt are temporarily dulled to the point where they stop either stop hurting or at least get kind of quiet for a while.
Instead Melissa gets to watch as Nat makes the joint, her long fingers pinching the paper and rolling it tight. Even with shaking hands, the motions are practiced and delicate, and it's riveting in the way watching someone do something they've done a thousand times before is always riveting, and Mel doesn't need to feel bad about the way she's looking. She does feel guilty about making Natalie upset, but there's nothing she can do about that part of it without going back in time.
Then the pink tip of Nat's tongue snakes out, licking the paper. Mel stares for a couple seconds longer, and then she blinks herself out of it and goes digging for the lighter. She briefly imagines Mari rolling her eyes at the whole scene, pissed off. I'm fucking dead and you're already perving on other girls? You should be thinking about me. Yeah, probably, but Mel's only human. ]
I was high basically all of last month. [ She flicks the wheel a couple times with her thumb, making it spark, and then hands the lighter over. ] It was, like, the easiest month I think I've ever had in my life, and it wasn't actually my life. [ She tips her head back, looking up at the ceiling. ] I think that other version of me was kind of a sociopath? But I should definitely smoke a lot more weed.
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no subject
it does disturb her, but she also gets it. sometimes she wakes up from dreams where she bashes shauna's head in with a rock with a warm, almost contentment burrowed in her chest. it wants feeding. it says yes, natalie. get worse. you know where you're headed. )
What the fuck.
( more murmured under her breath than actually asked. natalie gets up abruptly, gnawing at her thumbnail, eyes a little frantic when she looks back at melissa — there was an implication, once. nat asking shauna how the hunt ended, shauna telling her ask travis. she's been terrified it means he got hunted, that she's in love with a corpse, that she might save all the girls in the world, but there's no hope for her, ultimately. everything lives and breathes with travis. this is the moment she loses it all.
and yet, she can't not ask, quiet and afraid, )
Who?
no subject
[ Melissa bites down on her lower lip, hard. It's not like she and Mari were ever best friends. Mostly, it was proximity. Mari had always been Gen's friend, and Melissa would be there too. But Mari never complained about her presence. She was fun, and could be surprisingly sweet, and when she wasn't being sweet, her verbal barbs were both sharp and weird enough to make Melissa laugh. She brought candy to every away game so everyone had something to eat on the bus ride home.
She had been one of them, and then she had been a broken body at the bottom of that pit. Melissa had brushed her fingers through a lock of Mari's black hair and then used a bone to pin it to the front of Shauna's robes like it was a fucking prize that she deserved, and then they'd sat around the fire and she'd listened to Gen crying softly while she ate. It's all so fucked. ]
I told Jackie. But not how it happened.
no subject
( it ends on a gasp rather than a syllable, nat lifting a hand up to cover her mouth and then quickly turning to face the opposite wall, shoulders shaking. it doesn't take any effort to make the tears spill over. mari was a friend. mari was — she believed in lottie's dumbfuck nonsense, mari was there during the hunts and in the games, mari made gifts at shauna's baby shower, danced with them while the radio died, made fucking — fucking soup for the girls to eat. and worst of all, mari
nat thought she saved her. this whole time. a little victory to pad out the grief, mari fucking died while nat wasn't even in the running. nat got them out, is getting them out, and these dumbass hungry girls couldn't wait — what, another week? a month?
she rubs her palms over her eyes, sniffing loudly, grossly, before crossing back over the room, shaking hands ripping open a bedside table and taking out a bottle of vodka. she chugs a little, and feels no better for it, flopping on her bed and shaking the bottle at mel in offering. she'll have to come over to grab it. when their eyes lock, nat's are bloodshot and watery and sad and vacant, not wholly there. )
How did it — did it happen? ( she tries to be stern. queenly. no, she's not a giant fucking crybaby. she understands tragedy like its always been a friend to her, like it can't hurt her anymore, like there's always been a dark place inside for her to curl up and hide in when life gets too real. ) Tell me.
no subject
[ It comes out choked and small. Natalie was climbing through the snow trying to get them rescued at the same moment Mari was dying, and Melissa really is sorry. No, she didn't act alone, but she'd been the first one to suggest a hunt. What happened after that rests on her shoulders.
She crosses the room and takes the bottle from Nat, brings it to her lips and drinks with a grimace. The vodka burns going down and pools in her stomach like acid. She takes another drink before she offers the bottle back. ]
She shouldn't have died. I don't know why— [ Mel swipes a hand across her cheek, frustrated, grieving. ] Nobody was even hunting her besides Shauna and Tai and Lottie, and we planned for that, we split them up and distracted them. [ It should have worked. She keeps going over and over and over everything in her head and coming to the same conclusion every time. It was a stupid plan but it still should have worked. ]
She fell. That hole, the place Coach Scott found her when she fucked up her knee? Someone like—filled it up with fucking spikes and covered it like a pit trap.
[ Mel doesn't know who, or why, but Mari is dead and Shauna ordered them to fill the hole in, and there's nothing she can do to take any of it back. She sits on the edge of Nat's bed and lets the burn of the vodka spread through her, trickling down her arms, her fingertips. It doesn't make her feel better or worse, just... less real. ]
cw: gore
easy to blame shauna. except — shauna's their butcher and knows what a pain split stomach acid and bowels and gooey guts torn by imprecise motions can be when it comes to preparing the feast. this is a lesson natalie knows now too, watching her fingers point out the places to cut coach open, where to avoid, how to make it easy for yourself, motions almost maternal in nature. a strange kindness, like she knew and enjoyed what a cruel thing she demanded from natalie, but didn't require an excess of her suffering, a real mother in that way, disciplining her offspring. for pure practicality, nat can't imagine shauna killing someone in a way that makes more work for her. maybe someone else prepared the feast, while queen shauna sat in her throne? but would she pass on the chance to celebrate her idea of worship? what would mari taste like, if shauna had nothing to do with it?
accepting the bottle, nat rolls over, dropping it on the floor. ) No, fuck this. ( she rustles through her bedside table, fetching a grinder, baggy, rolling papers, and sets to the motion poorly with her shaking hands, dumping the green in an almost even line and rolling it as tight as she can, licking the left over paper to seal it shut.
she gestures to the table on the other side next to mel. ) There's a lighter in there.
no subject
Instead Melissa gets to watch as Nat makes the joint, her long fingers pinching the paper and rolling it tight. Even with shaking hands, the motions are practiced and delicate, and it's riveting in the way watching someone do something they've done a thousand times before is always riveting, and Mel doesn't need to feel bad about the way she's looking. She does feel guilty about making Natalie upset, but there's nothing she can do about that part of it without going back in time.
Then the pink tip of Nat's tongue snakes out, licking the paper. Mel stares for a couple seconds longer, and then she blinks herself out of it and goes digging for the lighter. She briefly imagines Mari rolling her eyes at the whole scene, pissed off. I'm fucking dead and you're already perving on other girls? You should be thinking about me. Yeah, probably, but Mel's only human. ]
I was high basically all of last month. [ She flicks the wheel a couple times with her thumb, making it spark, and then hands the lighter over. ] It was, like, the easiest month I think I've ever had in my life, and it wasn't actually my life. [ She tips her head back, looking up at the ceiling. ] I think that other version of me was kind of a sociopath? But I should definitely smoke a lot more weed.
[ Nat's gonna share that joint, right? ]