#YOUR LAST LINE IS KILLING ME sorry jackie but knife shauna is here to stay :/

[doomdays]

shauna's head falls back as she rolls her eyes, but it's not necessarily for jackie; she hears her, she knows she's right, she juts doesn't know the 'how' of it all, and without knowing that, it's hard to think too hard about getting home. it's not lost on her, the way jackie says 'i,' shauna's thoughts immediately going back to those left behind: they were surely all mourning jackie taylor, likely forgetting shauna was even with her, always the shadow, never the spotlight ( not when jackie alway shined too brightly in it. ) ❝  jackie, i know. but-- are we just going to walk through the wilderness and stumble upon some nice people who want to take us out of our misery? we're stuck, and-- ❞ her eyes close, because she doesn't actually believe the words she's thinking. ❝  rescue has to find us eventually. okay? but we have to find a way to survive until it does. ❞ 

if that means becoming the butcher, sharpening herself as a knife, preparing herself for whatever battle is to come, shauna is ready ( she has to be; back home, her edges were too dull, never ready for the fight, but she will be now. )

her jaw tightens, and she looks away, down to her sneakers that are far beyond repair now as they continue to dig into the dirt below. she wonders what jackie would think if she told her she liked that she was seemingly adapting to this better than jackie was ( no matter how much that was just pretending. ) she knew better than to say it out loud, locked away with all her resentments over jackie, fair or not. ❝  well, sitting around complaining about it isn't going to get us home, ❞ she mutters, not daring to look back at her just yet. something about the barrier between civilization in the wilderness gives her enough confidence to shoot back, to lightly step out of jackie's shadow.

(   she's careful not to burn herself in the process.  )    

❝   jackie,  just TRY.   it's not forever,  okay,   it can't be,   so just try to do something.   if nothing else,   then----   it's a story to tell everyone back at home,   right?  ❞    shauna's journals are filled with experiences that she can't imagine ever telling out loud,   but back home,   everyone hangs onto jackie's words,   won't they want to know all about what she had to do to survive the wilderness?  

PERHAPS SPOKEN AS MUCH FOR HERSELF AS SHAUNA, desperate - unsettled, she reaches for the light. a way out. girl not meant for the deep dark wood / everyone turning to strangers around her, 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚘𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚜 ; their pelts. soon all she can see in them is hunger. ravenous & all - consuming, bloodied maws ready to pick at the fallen dead. [ that's not what you're really afraid of though, is it jackie? ] bearing witness to a slow, violent descent. no, her true nightmare comes at night, to remind her. wide - eyed girl faced with her own deadly reflection. yes, what she really fears — becoming one of the fallen. one of the forgotten. . . the sacrificed.

the evident disbelief in the question makes her want to cry, scream, rage at the spinning world around them. ❝ shauna, i HAVE to get back home — the sooner the better. ❞ making no attempt to shroud the desperation on her tongue. 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 ; 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚛𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙. only no one hears. . . & then, would they even care if they did? she doesn't want to know the answer. ❝ are you being serious right now? ❞ [ that's how the gulf widens, how girlhood dies, understanding is lost in the woods. ] ❝ there is no getting used to this. ❞ so much left unspoken, trapped in the venomous delivery of her words. THE TRUTH IS, there's no getting used to shauna. not like this, covered in blood with a knife in her hand.