Independent And Uninvolved. Must Be Nice. -tris

I See A Kind Of Thirst In Her Expression, The Same One I Saw When She Told Me About Her Brother In The Back Room Of The Tattoo Parlor. Before The Attack Simulation I Might Have Called It A Thirst For Justice, Or Even Revenge, But Now I Am Able To Identify It As A Thirst For Blood. And Even As It Frightens Me, I Understand It. Which Should Probably Frighten Me Even More.

I Imagine The Wave Of Water Colliding With The Rock And Spilling Over The Tile Floor, Collecting Around My Shoes. Doing A Little At Once Can Fix Something, Eventually, But I Feel Like When You Believe That Something Is Truly A Problem, You Throw Everything You Have At It, Because You Just Can’t Help Yourself.

I Have Never Been Carried Around By A Large Boy, Or Laughed Until My Stomach Hurt At The Dinner Table, Or Listened To The Clamor Of A Hundred People All Talking At Once. Peace Is Restrained; This Is Free.

I Forgot My Watch. Minutes Or Hours Later, When The Panic Subsides, That Is What I Most Regret. Not Coming Here In The First Place - That Seemed Like An Obvious Choice - But My Bare Wrist, Which Makes It Impossible For Me To Know How Long I Have Been Sitting In This Room. My Back Aches, Which Is Some Indication, But It Is Not Definite Enough.

I Don't Really Control The Story. I Just Let It Go Where It Wants To Go. I Have No Idea What's Going To Happen In The End Or Who's Going To Live, So It's Kind Of Like Me Saying, "i Don't Know, Guys! Just Wait." That's What I'm Doing!