But don't scratch, don't pick, don't fester.
But don't scratch, don't pick, don't fester.
One. Two. One. Two.
It's boring. It's paradise. It's miserable. It's wrong. It's all I'll ever have.
Various thoughts and emotions are going through a person's mind at any given time. Let alone so many of them. Alone. In a group. Surrounded. Suffocated.
It's dangerous being alone. So damn scary being alone, out here, anywhere. But it's maddening anywhere too near another breath, so many of them. How they whimper, how they cry. So many complaints and fears behind each and every one of them.
You have to get away, even for a minute. You have to in order to stop yourself from dropping so far into what felt like the pits of insanity. The brakes before a collision, as futile as the action may be.
Away.
Cold and bare as it was, it was away. It was arguably dry. That was worth it then.
In their old lives, if someone had a fight, you could just go off somewhere else. To cool down. To run. To distract.
Now, where do you go?
Want to go back? Don't be daft. Everyone wanted to go back. Absolutely everyone. If we could we already would have. There is no back. Nothing will be the same. You get nothing.
"Maggie?!" a strong voice searched through the drizzle.
She gasped, hard. Breath panting heavily with her crying. Quickly she curled up smaller behind the rocks, to not be seen, but her cries were nearly hyperventilating. A loud suck of cold air, hiccups and disturbing pants.
It was in no way subtle or controlled. Rather it might take a deaf person to not be able to follow the sounds of that, echoing in the shallow cave. She'd be dead if there was any danger hungry enough to bother.
A typical woman, you could say. One couldn't tell if she wanted to be found or not. Chased or not.
Who was to say?
"Maggie. God damn it, why you gotta be messin. Just what? What the fuck. Seriously?" an exasperated man found her easily, wringing his tattered baseball cap of rainwater.
It wasn't exactly drenched but it sure as hell wasn't dry. Nowhere was comfortable, not even the camp. Not well built enough for that. The greater majority of people weren't professional, despite everyone being a critic for professional standards. No use complaining out here though. There was no one to blame, worse yet no one to fix it for you.
It wasn't quite dry here, but it was probably a lot better than some salt damp cave swelling the floors past your ankles. Probably.
"I-I just-I just wanted-" she gasped sobbing as if she couldn't breathe.
The crying made not only her eyes but her entire face swell. The successful weight loss from the past few weeks somewhat made up for this difference. Which wasn't saying too much given they were on a deserted island.
What a diet plan. Surviving and starving.
"Fuck it. " He tiredly swung out his jacket and backpack, finding a dry spot to slide his ass down for a seat. Finally taking a rest, here is a good a place as any. "The next time you wanna be a fucking drama queen and run off like that, I ain't coming after you. Ain't no one coming after you. Damn girl. A heads up if you all wanna do is bitch in rain. "
"I'm not bitching, you ass! I just- "she gasped heavy, tears and sobs regurgitating out of her.
For a while, it was just the hard rain and her whimpering for breath through crying constricted nasals.
"I didn't run out here after you to fight again or listen to the same bitching crying on repeat. Just don't do stupid shit that makes people worry for no reason. " someone sighed, low the way one throws in the towel. Too tired and mad to put up a shout.
"Would it kill you to be a little nicer!? More understanding or -" that was about as much as she got out before the hiccups and wet choking sounds took over again.
"No, but it will kill me eventually to keep looking after your pathetic attention whore ass." he sighed again, rather helpless.
It's not like he wanted to get into another fight but there was a line already long past a certain point of bullshit. Things that you can't put up with anymore.
All out of fucks to give.
"It sucks, yeah yeah we know. That's just it. It sucks for everyone. Literally everyone. You're not special. Suck it up already and don't be making a damn mess. You're not the star of some reality show. Damn, how I wish it was a reality show. Then we could press some big red button and get off this shit island." he ranted back, freely whining himself.
Might as well. If this was cry cry cave, a road of rain away from camp and all the others, then he might as well. After all, if you can't beat them, join them. Bitch and cry it is, he thought.
Though he was a far cry from taking the crown. Or even the court.
Nothing to really get to know people, both friends and strangers, and how much you can't stand them like confined spaces and too much time together.
Case in point, the girl in front of him. Friend of a friend. They could barely say they knew each other before or after this incident, grouped up. Now he was even less inclined. The best he could do was comfort himself that it could be worse.
There was some leggy blond girl, the kind that was still pretty without make-up and way out of his league, that seemed to radiate nasty bitch 24/7. So yeah, it could be worse.
"Why do you have to be so cruel!? Like I know everyone and everything sucks ok!? I know!!! But I'm still sooo ugggh hic waaaaaaaaahhhh," her voice crashes and cries again, matching the waterworks outside.
"Yeah yeah. Cry it all out. I now dub this Bitchin spot. Where you or anyone can come to screamo it out away from where decent people try to stay sane. I, myself, may frequent Bitchin spot. Fine fine. But don't cry to me about it. " he rubbed an itchy spot that didn't really seem to go away.
Maybe it didn't heal right from all the bugs biting out here. It wouldn't kill you but the seemingly small and mundane inconveniences stacked like poison.
Enough to drive a man insane.
It itched something nasty, especially with wet clothes. Scratching made it worse but damn.
Just don't think about it.
Don't focus.
It's there, it's maddening, but don't pay it any mind. You only make it worse for yourself.
The rain ebbed by. Slowly. Surely. It was almost relaxing, a numb white noise you finally stopped fighting. Could finally enjoy without the heavy breathing of too many people jammed packed all around you.
He might have been joking to himself earlier, but it really was a nice enough spot to get away.
"You...could at least comfort me. " the girl sniffed, either tired out of tears or just no longer motivated now that she was being ignored.
He looked like was thinking about it, before letting out a loud "Naaaaaaah."
"Asshole," she stated, trying to fix her still wet hair. Hard time with that with only her chipped fingers. Swollen from too much-forced work with rough unfamiliar elements, naturally dried without lotion. The drizzling rain swelled them to the point where she wasn't sure she had fingerprints anymore.
He merely shrugged at that. Plenty of worse characters out there. He was doing alright in his opinion. Cept for this damn itching, especially on the ankle. Right on the bone too.
The itch made it inadvertently much easier to ignore someone annoying.
"Hey, didn't your mom ever tell you not to do that?" Maggie seemed to give up straightening anything with her hair, choosing to walk closer to the edge of the opening. Up and close to him and his annoyingly itchy ankle.
"Well, my mama ain't here to watch me now, is she? Oh damn, that's another thing I could use. My mama and her food. Damn." he almost groaned in pain at the memories. Sunday dinner, hell any dinner, any hot home-cooked meals.
"Don't-" her slightly smaller hand attempted to circle his wrist, even though he wasn't even doing anything that warranted being grabbed.
It didn't particularly feel like anything at first. A tickle maybe. Like when a stray hair fell on you. Something light and delicate landing. A flutter.
Followed by an ominous sense of itch.
"...Do you want me to comfort you? Even though you won't even do the same thing for me?" she offered, sticking out a full lower lip. Flushed swollen pink.
A young man and woman together alone, too close.
What could happen?
"Oh hell nah!!!" he jumped up to his feet, practically throwing her off in the process.
It wasn't a slap but it knocked her right off her ass to painfully bump her tender skin in shorts against the rocky wet floor. Cold shivers going through them both for their own different reasons.
"What the hell!?!!" she shrieked at being treated like so.
Like she was something disgusting. The way he shivered like he saw a big bug or something.
"Oh hell nah!" he repeated, grabbing his stuff. Ready to book it. " I ain't letting bitchin spot turn me into yours or anyone's bitch. Oh hell nah, I'm out. I tried. Lord and my mama knows I try to be a good person but oh hell nah."
"What the hell is wrong with you!?!!" she yelled back, feeling beyond insulted. Another straw and crack to an already tired and broken camel's back.
"That's what I want to ask you? Damn girl, you have a man and I ain't about that. Fucking shit hell I'm out. You can have have bitchin spot. Maybe take another one of those natural cold showers to wash some of that stupid out of your head. "
"What the hell did you say about me!?!"
"Look, I really don't want more drama. How's this, you calm the fuck down by yourself, and I don't go telling your pissy boyfriend."
"You're a fucking fag that's what. An asshole heartless piece of shit and a fag-"
"It's not that hard. You're really not that cute without all your..." he made a vague gesture to his face and back to her bare one. Time, stress and rain washed off whatever makeup she still had the energy to put on. Not that he blamed her, or anyone for not looking their best this long out on a deserted island. Still, he continued with a grimace.
"But if I ever want to die a bad by getting my nice blood sucked out, I'll hit chu up.~ Bye now."
Off he went, a running dot out into the static distance. The canopy of jungle and waters, drowning his presence out. As if he were never there.
And then there was one.
Maggie curled up alone and did what she did best.
Cry.
----------------------
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...
"So let me get this clear?" a tall teen breathed calmly. Camly he insists.
He clapped his hands together, righting up his metal-framed glasses, looking over them all clearly. Between every subject in the room.
"When I said, 'Sophie, don't stress out so much about securing our supplies. It's okay if you take time for yourself.' what I meant was for you to take a break. Not to overexert yourself. Or maybe even get yourself something fun and pretty, due to the fact you even somehow can. Right?" He leads up.
The short girl nodded, face a bit tiredly blank.
"So you....took that as a prompt to 'get something you like'. Right?" Mattie tried, he really did.
Sophie nodded again, finding nothing wrong with that statement.
"So...when.... did you like this much SPAM?!" he screamed.
No more calm Mattie.
There was however a shiny display of what looked to be a supermarket pallet and display's worth of canned meat. The too large and ridiculous kind during a promo or holiday. A very bright blue and piss-muted aluminum stack, looking like a very sad transformer. The DIY kind. A few of the small loose cans were already falling off to roll on the slightly uneven floor.
They stared as one more clanked loudly down. One face was blank while the other was a rising pink of confused irritation.
"I see nothing wrong, " Sophie answered so plainly it was almost innocent.
It was food. Preserved food with a long shelf life. More food was good food.
Her reasoning was, of course, a bit more detailed than that but overall it was a simple positive process right? Who wouldn't want this many bulk supplies? Sure it wasn't the healthiest or most nutritious but the rules were flipped out in a survival situation.
Humans need fat to live. Without it, the body wouldn't be able to absorb some necessary vitamins and nutrients from other sources of food. Which was absolutely a problem, right?
Sophie had seen what that lack could do firsthand. How much you could eat but not keep anything on your bones, under the sallow dry rashy skin. How people could waste away, not understanding how they got like that. How?
Do you know how many creatures actually contained a suitable amount of fat?
Do you know how lean a starved bag of flesh, blood, and bones gets? How utterly useless on an empty stomach?
That was a topic for another day, but Sophie remembers. Sucking. Chewing through large and small bones for the marrow. The only thing keeping someone alive in that environment.
Now that was tasty, messy but tasty.
Every calorie was precious when there wasn't enough. When one's every action costs set energy. Every action risked so much.
There were the coconuts, an easy fat source.. But even with those, the seasons could change, they could go bad, easily. The effort needed to process the shelled meat into storable oil was not little.
Energy was everything out here. Fat was everything here.
Not exactly the first line of thought to most people, especially the generally health-conscious.
Sophie had long stopped thinking in ways that would make sense to the average person. Or what was probably expected of her. Expectations were overrated. They were a trap.
Back to spam though.
She had no complaints. Good storage. Already dead and prepared. It was technically already cooked and ready to go. Didn't need to kill, clean, or process anything. Very little mess. There was also extra salt in the packaged meat. Naturally, there were not a lot of things with flavor out here. Anything that could act as seasoning was pretty good in her book. If nothing else but to make the contents of whatever of forgeable out here more bearable to swallow.
All positives.
More food. Good food. Spam very good food. Survive.
She was about to repeat that very simple thought process, again, much to Mattie's chagrin when a wild suspicious individual crawled in.
The figure tip-toed long and low. She wore a flowery scarf completely over her head, like an old woman, and some oversized cheap sunglasses. The behavior, however, was more in line with a mischievous child, a very young and silly one.
It was clearly indoors, the darkness of the cave only mitigated from the entrance and the electric camp lights further in. The hearth was only lit when they needed it, near the entrance enough to dissipate most of the cumbersome smoke.
So the image of June trying to be sneaky was doing the very opposite of whatever she intended.
Especially when she fumbled and knocked even more cans of spam from the display tower in a loud clunking and crashing. Down then went, further wrecking the sad figure of whatever the stacked cans was supposed to resemble.
"What are you even doing?" Mattie was too tired to keep judging.
He was pretty sure that he could be trapped utterly alone with his sisters on this island and never run out of things to judge. It wasn't good for his sanity. But here we were.
"Sssshhhhh, it's breakfast time. " June hushed behind her large slipping sunglasses.
How she could see in those was a current mystery. She stretched her legs absurdly far and tip-toed around, picking up the fallen cans with the glee of a gamer after a session of looting. At her current age, what was the most important thing? Fun? Fashion? All good. But for a growing teenager, it had to be food.
Food!
Don't think just because their sister had some supernatural supply shopping system that they ate well every day. Though a girl could fantasize.
Their main stock was still those local items the island could sustain. What Sophie had them squirrel away for a rainy day. A very long series of rainy days.
The foraged roots and tubers were stored away between layers of wood chips and ash. A small portion, they tried to dry and grind into something that resembled a powder.
That was meant to last longer and be added to thicken their meals.
The meat was long gone, though they still had some dried fish filets hanging. The fattest of their last early catches saved and shrunk over a smokey fire for these purposes. Herbs and leaves hung on a wire, both near and far. Baskets and woven mats hung half hazard here or there, keeping seemingly small and random things dried and stored. Only the now iceless party cooler stood out, and was kept as the occasional storage of fresh foods. A treat in these tiring times.
Meanwhile, the supplies that were brought over initially, such as seasoning, we meant to stretch and last. A careful ration system was kept in place, overseen by Sophie. One that was further enforced by Mattie.
Touch or luxuriously waste any of them and one could say goodbye to any perks the elder siblings may or not provide.
June understood all too well her weak position in this camp. She even occasionally monologued it out to any listening cats in the shadows.
Sophie was the father who went to work and brought home the bacon in this mocking nuclear family. She provided their means to live and while she seemed to mostly keep silent, the final decision on most matters lay with her.
Mattie was the strict and probably right mother, homemaker, and caretaker. The only reason they could live in an environment as clean and homey as this was due to his meticulous care. After the initial confusion of this situation and set up of their permanent camp, could Mattie get into his usual groove of nagging. He kept them clean, on schedule in routines, and butt kicked into a wide variety of chores. Literally, all the chores. He even nagged Sophie about shit.
As for June, and now Leon?
Freeloaders.
So as a freeloader, June felt it was very important to suck up and be a good student.
With her magnanimous grace and the temporary feeling of superiority of no longer being the youngest in the 'house', she had announced just that very teaching to Leon as well. Or wherever she thinks the brat may be, usually from below the bed bunk.
Part of that sucking up was speaking nice words, taking a load off her sibling's shoulders, offering to organize and clean up and....
"How many things are you taking now? Stop that." Mattie scolded and confiscated the basket she was using.
With a quick rummage, he took out a majority of the goods for the morning rations, including the copious amount of spam. Leaving only miscellaneous cooking ingredients, some vegetables and small tubers, and a single can of the lunch meat.
"Brah. " June deadpanned, disappointment rang out of her like a tired older child confiscated of her Halloween candies to just one a day.
"You're right. You need help. I don't trust you to season anything not have it taste like bad fast food. " Mattie hung his arm around, moving them along out this area of spam.
"Brah!" June protested.
"You. We'll talk later. " he looked over to Sophie, threatening behind the glint of his glasses.
Sophie looked down to the sprawling cans, back to Mattie, back to the giant crate of spam, then back to Mattie. Maybe she could see where he was coming from? Maybe.
"We'll finish it eventually, sooner than you think," she spoke in all honesty, as if sure that would solve everything.
"That's not it, it's the principle of the matter and- oh later. Later, I will deal with you and all....that. " Mattie waved to the new mess on their cave floor.
"I support you, Sophie. Viva le SPAM!" June wailed out, before being dragged out to cook under supervision.
Sophie hardly waved them off, distracting herself with taking inventory. What was one sibling's mess was another's treasure, and a trove of canned goods was definitely a treasure out here.
Oddly, she found it was the youngest sibling that was adapting much easier this time, and not Mattie.
Sophie's first priority had always been their physical health and means of survival. In all honesty, there wasn't much she could do at this point for their mental health. About the stress, they keep, those hidden and in view.
Maybe June gamed too much, maybe she talked on and on the way children needed to be heard. Either way, she expressed it well and slept better every night. Mattie, despite being seemingly more capable, was rather incapable of fully relaxing or sharing the static in his mind. That one clammed up, kept it till it rotted cavities inside him. Pain like a ticking bomb.
Not was she one to talk? She did what she could in their prep, but was barely hanging on for the current ride as is. Taking it one day at a time, carefully judging the situation to their current states and abilities.
Mental was a priority for another day. One reserved for others.
Sophie certainly wasn't one to talk.
It could however be about the simple things in life. Even the most mundane little pleasures could bring joy and meaning to an otherwise empty and brutal life, of fending for oneself.
Pleasures like all this god damn spam!
The sight of so much of it put Sophie in a rare good mood.
So much so she didn't even mind to headache fogging her head, the invisible strain of lead weighing down her limbs. This ability was actually a handicap in any other situation, maybe too great of a risk. Physically, it limited her chances of defending or escaping. If they had stayed with the main group, there's no way Sophie could pull any of this shit off. She wouldn't, couldn't, risk it. Even if it meant missing out on more goods, or any goods at all. No way was she compromising safety, survivability, with luxury.
That's what all this was really, luxury.
You would be surprised at how little it takes to keep a person alive. On the other hand, it was just as amazing how little it took to kill them. Dire situations could push people to greater strength than they had ever dreamed. Just as well, it could drive them to a torturous death faster than you could spell it.
That was... if you could even remember how.
Education? Morality? Common sense? A lot of things fell apart out here, isolated and cut off. A lot more than anyone could have predicted.
It was a lot easier to just....be empty. Of mind, of memories, empty it all. Then it wouldn't kill you so much from the inside out. Wouldn't kill you before the others had their chance to do it themselves.
Such thoughts....made Sophie think about how the lucky ones weren't those who made it out alive. It's those who got to die. Die first, before all this mess erupted. It was a peaceful death, and that's more than any of them in the late stages of the game deserved. That also went for herself.
*Click clack*
She should have been on better gaurd. She should be on island mode, ready at all times. Ready to die and take everyone she can down with her.
*Click clack clack drip*
The cans fell and rolled, even with the movement of just one. It was unstable like that. No matter how the stack technically didn't really 'move' getting from point nothing to here. Always at risk of toppling, even on the good clean supermarket lithium. Waxed smooth to perfection, not like their rough rock and rougher planks of wood. Trodden over to force a fit.
Everything barely standing.
"You shouldn't have done that. You're not exactly the picture of health, even when you were older and taller. " Sophie still didn't look up.
Funny of her to say. The pale of her thin neck was fully visible with how short her hair was. It would be so easy to wrap around and choke the life out of her. Even easier to slash and stab with something sharp.
It was so funny. How fragile and easy it all way to really just end everyone and everything this way. What was all that suffering for? Why did they make things so complicated?
Why?
"Why? Did you get bored? Anxious?..." she picked up the clunky cans as easily and naturally as fallen fruits under a ripe tree.
Gathered them up in her skirts, into a bag. Calmly. As if the sights, sounds, everything didn't disturb her. Didn't even take her by any surprise or shock. Like nothing could, after all she's been through. Standing there far too serene for this.
*Drip drop clack drip drop*
"You're drenched? Let's put this aside for now and grab you a towel. For your sake I hope you didn't drag in mud, you have no idea how much Mattie hates mud." Sophie said. Simple as that.
She turned to do just that. Put down her goods, find a big spare towel. Turn back around to smother him blind.
"What have you done?" he hissed, threatening.
"Me?" she asked in wonder as if a bit incredulous.
Her hands focused on rubbing his whole small head under the roughly dried cloth, not mind the wet dripping puddles his thin frame brought it. Like a child that had been a bit too messy.
"You're the one running out to play when the rain is still like this. When you're so small and weak yourself. " Sophie didn't scold, she only spoke the lightest of the truth.
"What..." the boy choked uncharacteristically, voice foreign in his own throat before growling as low as this mouth, this set of teeth could go, "...have you done to me???"
Sophie chuckled, reaching for another towel.
"Me again? I think we both know, I didn't do a thing. You'll have to be more specific though, if I'm to answer anything you want to hear." her voice, as well as her hands, seemed to wash over gently. Like soothing waves, graceful as nature itself.
It wasn't a control or trait that she had before.
"Leon? What's wrong? You're not normally so stupid as to risk your physical being, not like this. What made you go out there hmm? Antsy? Annoyed? Bored?" she began to lift the big towel, intent on replacing it with another, dryer one to work with.
It wouldn't do to catch a cold. It wouldn't do to degrade, to be waste.
"What's wrong?" small hands gripped from underneath, the tension in them tight, veins visible even under tanned skin.
He didn't let that towel budge. remaining a dripping wet ghost. Thin bare legs, bug-bitten and thin, edges of grey wet, faceless under there. If Sophie didn't know better she'd say he was shaking from cold.
"Contrary to your conspiracies and suspicions, I don't know all. I hardly even know enough about myself. " she tugged, feeling no give. "You can mope, but I didn't do this to you. Something did, maybe, but not me. I'm not 'your' enemy."
She already knew that reminder wasn't going to be enough. Hell, if she was in his position, she wouldn't know what she would do either. How to react, how to take it. Day after agonizing over thinking day. She still doesn't.
But this was a game for the long haul.
"What's wrong?' the boy comes to grip her wrists, the thinnest part under her hands.
The action was done oddly so from underneath, through a veil acting under the towel. One that lacked any modern softness or fluff. He gripped incredibly hard for a child, as if intent to do harm. Not that he could break her, not with that feeble strength.
That was, until the pressure seemed to suddenly disappear, even faster than if he suddenly let go.
"This." Leon's voice hissed like smoke.
And the damp cloth fell.
It fell into nothing but the empty space between Sophie's hands, and the little wet puddles left on the ground.
Like a magic trick. Like a dream.
"Oh. " Sophie flipped over the towel, seemingly unsurprised at seeing nothing, no one, there.
One should stop thinking too much about anything out here. One should stop having expectations or standards of any kind. Key word, 'should', humans were so fickle.
"Well....that's convenient," Sophie spoke up, unsure if it was just to herself or anyone else.
"What is?" Mattie had come back into the room without her noticing.
That's funny. That's odd. How reckless of her. How long had she been standing there like that? Dazed but for holding the damp sheet of a ghost.
If Mattie noticed the oddity, which he long did, he didn't question anything much further. Some topics were a little too deep to wade in, to drop, first thing or so in the morning.
"The cat," Sophie turned to him, slow- blinking back her own sense of time, self, "little guy just got a lot harder to find. "
"Hmmm," Mattie made a small noise of acknowledgment, before taking the towel out of her hands, oddly already folded. Then nearly dragged her on out the sudden room of spam. Back to the world of the living than the musing.
"One problem at a time, Sophie. He'll come out when he's hungry."
It would be nice if it could stay as simple as that.