[ she wants to say she's sorry but she thinks it so often that seeing it spelled out on her screen feels cheap, like less. and maybe it isn't anything to feel empathetic about. people rebuild their lives all the time, turn their back on what they knew and move on.
in the face of such honesty, she doesn't feel like she can be anything less.
Allison loves her father and she worries about Scott, and Stiles, and of course about Lydia. but some of those people are already here. ]
i'm not sure i have anything good waiting for me at home.
[ she thinks about what she could say. about comfort and hope, and hanging in and all of those things that people say to her. that people are supposed to say. and instead her mouth just quirks, and Hayley bunkers down into her chair before she taps out the reply. ]
well-
there definitely won't be anything good waiting for you here :)
comforting, really. has anyone ever told you that you should work with children?
[ oh, you want to be a doctor? please, you couldn't even be a cashier with that brain. but Allison laughs regardless. the blatancy will knock your teeth out but because it's so appalling, it knocks her back into reality. ]
[ can she just say how great it is to have a normal conversation with a human that doesn't revolve around: where is it and how do we kill it before it kills us? ]
are you kidding? i love candy why would i share that?
so speaking of once or never. what's the plan, for you know, before all of this? you're in highschool, right? or you're just a really petite university student. or a freakishly tall 6th grader. judgement free zone here.
to skip hoarding all of the cavities that come with it?
a judgement free zone that uses the word freakish. i see that happening. and you were right the first time, about high school. i'm seventeen. just trying to survive all the drama. ...and then some.
well that doesn't sound mysterious at all. no way.
and yeah. i was. am? am sounds like i plan on getting back. and all things considered? pretty much come to terms with the fact that california is probably the last place i'm gonna end back up.
i don't like jumping to conclusions. maybe they die. maybe they go home. but there are worse things than death and no guarantee for what really happens.
it sounds awful to say i'd rather assume they were home or dead but it beats thinking they're trapped somewhere in rooms we can't get to. suffering who knows what. have you ever explored that possibility? i mean, gone looking. does anyone bother?
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[ she wants to say she's sorry but she thinks it so often that seeing it spelled out on her screen feels cheap, like less. and maybe it isn't anything to feel empathetic about. people rebuild their lives all the time, turn their back on what they knew and move on.
in the face of such honesty, she doesn't feel like she can be anything less.
Allison loves her father and she worries about Scott, and Stiles, and of course about Lydia. but some of those people are already here. ]
i'm not sure i have anything good waiting for me at home.
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well-
there definitely won't be anything good waiting for you here :)
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[ oh, you want to be a doctor? please, you couldn't even be a cashier with that brain. but Allison laughs regardless. the blatancy will knock your teeth out but because it's so appalling, it knocks her back into reality. ]
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has anyone ever told you that you should give stand up a spin?
[ OKAY SO SHE MIGHT ACTUALLY BE LAUGHING ALOUD AT HER EMPTY ROOM
but that's beside the point. ]
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it might have come up, once or never.
[ can she just say how great it is to have a normal conversation with a human that doesn't revolve around: where is it and how do we kill it before it kills us? ]
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so speaking of once or never.
what's the plan, for you know, before all of this? you're in highschool, right? or you're just a really petite university student. or a freakishly tall 6th grader. judgement free zone here.
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a judgement free zone that uses the word freakish. i see that happening. and you were right the first time, about high school. i'm seventeen. just trying to survive all the drama. ...and then some.
were you in high school too?
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and yeah. i was. am?
am sounds like i plan on getting back. and all things considered? pretty much come to terms with the fact that california is probably the last place i'm gonna end back up.
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why is it so impossible to imagine? people have told me that others go home here. why couldn't it happen to you?
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people disappear. no one knows if everyone makes it home. just that some come back, and some don't.
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you can say it.
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i don't like jumping to conclusions. maybe they die. maybe they go home. but there are worse things than death and no guarantee for what really happens.
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it sounds awful to say i'd rather assume they were home or dead but it beats thinking they're trapped somewhere in rooms we can't get to. suffering who knows what. have you ever explored that possibility? i mean, gone looking. does anyone bother?
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it isn't that people believe they're dead or home or trapped. i'm saying that no one knows anything.