girl on fire

Never gonna stop ‘til the clock stops ticking, Never gonna quit 'til my legs stop kicking, I will follow you and we’ll both go missing.

[hazelscode]

[hazelscode]

@the dirty alphabet: The game is changing. If you receive an ask then please note that if it is of the “seek & find” variety this is not meant to be an interaction but an individual response and can be handled any way you want. God modding is allowed.

[hazelscode]

"Didn't you love the game? Weren't you the Queen? How did you get to escape it when none of us did? Hazel, it's about time you paid the price that you were meant to. You have DESTROYED everything. You're already dead, so why are you still here? I hate to be the one to say this but, I dare you to jump. Again. Maybe this time you'll get it right. Didn't you know that not doing a dare has a forfeit? You made the rules. PLAY by them."

Weren’t you the Queen?

Hazel Marks stared at that sentence as if it held the meaning to life. A life like hers. 

The note was weightless between her fingertips but she couldn’t tear her gaze away, each word written in scrawl she had never seen before. Even if she had seen it, she wouldn’t remember now. She peered through dark eyelashes, her face pale and her hair tied up behind her head, perfectly manicured fingernails running across it like it was Art. Perhaps it was, to her. The game had been a beautiful destruction that freed her from her own mind and in the course of her reign, she had ruined everyone, including herself. 

Hazel had not known what she had started, that she was the wind in the propellers of a trail of betrayal that daggered each person she had loved so dearly in the heart. Perhaps if she had then she would of buried that box. Perhaps if she had then she would of told Sam that she loved him even without his hand dirtied by the thing she loved so much. Perhaps if she had then she would of never betrayed her oldest friend Tyson King. Perhaps if she had then she would of survived. She had lived but she has not survived. Nothing had survived. 

It had been four years since her death and nothing truly remained of the girl she had once been, she did not remember half her secrets nor understand them. The greatest mystery that everyone wished to solve was entirely stripped of it’s pieces. They saw her as a puzzle, each piece meant to come together to form a picture but she was not. There was not a full picture. There had never been. She had been broken her entire life and not a single one of them had attempted to put her together. They had loved her. They had hated her. They probably still disagreed on which was the most powerful of those two feelings. 

I dare you to jump. Again.

The writer of the dare did not understand the weight of those words, for they could not have possibly known, for all they did, that Hazel did not remember jumping. She did not remember many things, she had not remembered them when she did them and she would not remember them now. It was not possible. If the writer of the dare had known, perhaps they would not have written it. They would have known that their revenge would only ever be bittersweet, because they were going to be the undoing of a girl who did not remember why she was being punished nor care for the consequence that it would hold.

The writer of the dare did not know because although they knew the location of the girl, they did not know who she was. They never had. Now they played with fire and they were going to get burned because Hazel’s death, a real one, would not correct a singular fact that had preceded it. It would not alter anything. They believed she was the catalyst but she had only ever been a pawn. 

You made the rules. PLAY by them. 

Hazel laid down the note like a precious artifact, a pen lifted between her fingers and she drew a tiny heart on the edge. That was a sign. She had accepted her dare. She had made the rules, as they said, she would never refuse to play by them. After all, perhaps if they had asked they would know, she never had before. 

It was a trap but no more of a trap than anything else she had experienced thus far. Life had a way of caging things that had once been beautiful. Like a flower, she had wilted. Everything void of it’s true purpose. A simple factor in a chain of reactions that she could of never ended nor began. 

The pane of her window slid beneath a grip that had once been gentle and white cascaded against her skin, pushing open to hot London air, nothing below of concern. The first time she would see outside of the walls that she lived within now and the last. 

Hazel Marks did not care about death. She had been there before, it had not scared her any more than this life. There was no breeze, only sweltering heat, the ledge disappearing beneath her feet, her eyes averting, and this time, when she jumped, there would be no hero to grab her hand, only the memory of a boy that had tried to save her and everything she had taken from him. 

For the second time in her life, Hazel Marks jumped.

On the other side of London, shrouded no more in the darkness of Whittemore than the darkness of their own heart, the writer of the dare would sit, their eyes dazzling like the night sky, thinking of the person they once could of loved and how she was now gone for good. They would not regret it, though. 

After all, in their opinion, she should of never played the game. 

[hazelscode]

You don't want to hurt me, But see how deep the bullet lies. Unaware that I'm tearing you asunder. There is thunder in our hearts, baby. So much hate for the ones we love? Tell me, we both matter, don't we?

[hazelscode]

"This game was your life. Now it's theirs. You or them. I dare you to choose."

She didn’t know where it had came from. She had never seen it before. She never would again. She held it in her hands, maybe she would of moved if she could. Except she couldn’t, she was stuck. In every sense. Nothing beyond this moment survived, the paper folded between her fingers. She would not know the significance of the choice she hadn’t made.

[hazelscode]

the betrayal trail. uprising // dareclue

X destroyed the box as he should of the first time around, each other letter now descending, a long fall for B, C, D, E & F before they hit the ground. 

Meanwhile Z in this game is nowhere to be found.

X = Tyson King, Z = Rose Hammond, A = Hazel Marks, B = Samuel Fawkes, C = Riley Delvaux, D = Leslie Winters, E = Chase Myers, F = Kitty Valance

From the shadows G and H collide, hands sweaty, hearts beating fast, eyes incredibly wide. They have been driven to the end of their wits, they don’t want to give up, to call it quits. 

G is angry, G is torn, G feels like their skin has embedded by each and every other letters thorn. H is tired, H is sad, H is trying not to let this world make them bad.

Together G and H decide it’s time to start a new game. This still starts with a dare but it’s not quite the same.

They want to get revenge on the letters that came before, where punishment once disappeared, now there will be more. Their moral compass is broken and shatters at their feet, together they will become a team that nobody else can beat.

They will torture every letter that came before until there’s nothing left, not a shred. They don’t care how this ends, they don’t care how many people wind up dead. If the other letters didn’t want to play then they shouldn’t of started this at all, they will only save X and Z from the brunt of this fall. 

If people thought B was bad they should be prepared for a shock because now if you find a dare at the door, you must answer the knock. 

[hazelscode]

RESOLUTION AESTHETIC: THE DARE BOX, ORIGINATION

Passed from hand to hand like a curse, they did not know that it was them and not the box making things worse.

[hazelscode]

the betrayal trail. XAZ // dareclue

X hadn’t started it. The box was placed in their hands wrapped in paper like a gift. They had no idea that it would inspire the universe they lived in to entirely shift. Life had stripped them clean of so many important faces, taken them to so many old and dusty places. Why not accept some light relief in a sea of sadness? Why not embrace just a little madness? 

A hated X. They wanted X to suffer as much as they could afford, they’d once been the driver at the steering wheel but now the options were far too broad. So in the epic prologue it was A who stole the box from X on a cool Summer night, except A had no idea that X wouldn’t go down without a fight.

X hunted long and hard and never gave up, knowing they’d get the box back with a little luck. After all, they only wanted the game to end, before friendships became too broken to mend. That was exactly why X never mentioned they knew it was A, they didn’t want someone they cared about to pay!

So X found that A had stolen the box from under their nose, a feeling of betrayal had immediately arose. What was it that made A want it so bad? They stole the box back to end A’s passing fad. 

Except A was more angry, purely enraged! This was their game! They were engaged! A ran to Z waving their dares, telling them that getting the box would end these affairs. A didn’t tell Z they had it before, they simply said that X’s game had a major flaw.

So it was Z in the end who whispered into X’s ear, causing X to be consumed in fear. 

Days passed and turned to weeks and A didn’t find what A seeks. In fact, it seemed, X was better than they thought, it seemed there was a lesson he was yet to be taught.

So A and Z they hatched their very first plan.

Z would be long gone when shit hit the fan.

[hazelscode]

when are we going to find who's the father? #betterthanpll

Tell me when you find him.

[hazelscode]

i miss you crazy bitch

I miss you too, baby.

[hazelscode]

the betrayal trail. // dareclue

X heard it like the thumping of the tell-tale heart, a terrible reminder of the game they had all came to start. In the early hours they heard ( what they thought ) was the voice of God compelling them to run, so they took the devil’s box and dug a hole beneath the rising sun. X dug for hours upon end, digging deep into the ground, finding a home for the box of sins that they hoped would never again be found.

The only problem was that A had seen them run, A had a thirst to continue the game they had begun. With tender hands A dug into the dirt, wasting no time, for, they had a plan to exert. When A reached the box they so desired, they looked upon each piece of paper, each dare they now admired. A would be the one to kick start it all, a wonderful rise that would cause an even more tragic fall. 

So A ran along and called out for B, for they were the only one that would see what this could be. A had a plan and A was so sure, B agreed happily, not asking for more. 

B was having so much fun they forgot what they were doing was wrong, A and B together had grown so powerful and strong. Until the day that Ella Sinclair didn’t do her dare, that was when A and B realised this game could no longer be fair. Of course when B crept in the middle of the night to cut the breaks of a car that would eventually cause a crash leaving Justin Moore with a scar, B had not truly thought about how this would end and as A abandoned ship on he dares, the laws of B’s world came to bend. B had to get rid of the box! They were no pink panther! No silver fox! They ran that night to a river so cold, praying as they sent it off that this story would grow old.

Except C had been watching and C had a plan, this story, in their opinion, had a much longer span. So from the watery depths they grasped the beautiful box, nothing was lost in their dampened brown locks. They were drawn to the beauty of silent despair, the design of the box drawing their stare. They knew that this was how they got even, karma would finally be able to free them. Each dare they penned in silent glee was the downfall of someone else that they could see. They did not play consequence but nobody challenge C, they were all still much too afraid of what they ( wrongly assumed ) was still B.

X was entirely frantic, they were losing their mind. Wasn’t this meant to be a chapter they left behind? They had stifled the box for everyone’s good and now they wanted to speak up but they didn’t think they could. Little did they know that B was close behind, also very frantic, but the box? They would never find.

C was in their prime and enjoying it too much, they were having too much fun, pushing their luck. That was when little D came along and ruined something, restarting the chorus of this unending song, D now saw that C had the box and for D, this was quite a shock and so D waited for a while to pass and then they clasped the box as if it was made of glass. Originally D had been feeling sorry for C but now? They were just confused, bemused, amused. They did not know what C had been doing all this time but now D saw this was their time to shine. So instead of handing over C, this was where it began for D. They drew up dares that ruined lives but this was no tale of backs and knives, no, D had a much more fun approach to school! All their dares, in comparison, came with prices that were small. 

C was slightly worried about where the box had gone, but where most would look for answers? They were cool with none.

D was getting hot, they were reaching fever pitch but suddenly in skidded freaking E and made the switch!

E was a different story and they had a whole different view on what was going down, they passed out dares that sent rumours flying around. The halls were longer safe and gossip was wild and free and a lot of that gossip? It included B. E wasn’t entirely sure what they were doing but for some reason they didn’t stop, they knew that nothing was good enough to turn back the clock. They had lost so much, so why give up the game? Compared to the others, E was entirely tame. In fact, there were some, the ones E loved most, that never even got their turn in the roast.

Whittemore burned down and E ended the never ending story, putting to rest Whittemore’s most outrageous fury. X, A, B, C and D were all at peace with what now came to be. 

Unfortunately the rebuild brought guilt for the ever prone E, so they dug the box back up ( not a good idea, as we all can see ). Except the problem was not that they were going to continue to give out dares but they wanted to tell a truth that was only theirs, that they had been the one to steal it from D, it was sad that someone would not let this truth be free. After Charles’ outrageous dinner they returned to their room to find the box, and were horrified to reveal it had been stolen by yet another sinner! Oh, E was distraught, they had no idea what to do, but then they realised... Wait, nobody knew? That meant they could get away and pretend they had no clue.

While all this unraveled and panic spilled free, this box had passed to F from E. F was not a player and had not enjoyed the game, they did not want this to be their claim to fame. F was tired and angry and caught up in unlimited chaos they could not escape, so instead they crafted a new version of fate. Oh, F wasn’t angry they were totally lost! They would make people understand that this all had a cost! F was determined, unapologetic and true, they didn’t care how this ended or who eventually knew. F hatched a plan that was worse than all before, because F was willing to make them beg and crawl. F thought they were idiots and watched them jump through hoops, F did not care that these were childish loops. 

As F sat now and reflected on what they had done, 

They still had absolutely no idea how this had begun.

[hazelscode]

more cluz comin soon this is an update while i shower because i’m excited

[quoteshack-blog]

Forgiveness is the final form of love

Reinhold Niebuhr (via quoteshack)

[barbarapalvinme]

[hazelscode]

FR4GMENT4T10N // DARECLUE

A blanked of snow, a storm, settled on the shoulders of England. It was like the fates knew. Ironic, really.

A woman wandered into the clasps of a deathly game, no recollection, nothing to gain. She had no idea when the game had began but when they started to sink, she had only swam.

Two little girls sat in inner city London in a school that looked no different to their faces. Dead, dead, dead. Everything was dead. Their hands were drawn to pieces of a machine they thought would save them. They had no idea how wrong they were.

The holder of the dare box drew a gel pen like a gun and penned one last note, this was not a dare. Little did they know that the game they were playing could have a rather deadly consequence.

He had finally got the love he had been told he deserved but the golden boy was preparing himself for a stab to the back that he could see coming. He just hadn’t realised yet, it was the entirely wrong person he suspected was holding the knife.

The illustrious being that had tempted their fates now knew answers that were not up for debate. Her fingers did not raise and yet lips stayed shut, there were pieces of history that only she knew where to put.

The long haired boy that had once been a hero sat in ruins, hands slick with blood from an escape. Everybody thought science had sent him insane but there was something else pressing on his mind. Some terrible knowledge that could change everything.

The raven haired daughter who nobody suspected made a call to her family to ensure the safety of her greatest secret, one, she was sure, would soon be exposed to the world. Time was passing fast.

In the darkness no longer lurked the ruined son, he had became a shadow but not his own, that of his father. A self made trap that he knew only one way out of... Unfortunately, it would take time.

The downtrodden son, who had fallen so far, sat without bandages for wounds none could see. He didn’t know that someone was close who could of answered his questions. He didn’t know, because the source of his pain was one he wanted to keep to himself. He lost his answers. He didn’t lose her.

And somewhere on the outskirts of London...

Hazel Marks woke up.

[hazelscode]

☑ ONE UNREAD EMAIL

Timer released email to @samfawkes from her school email address.

I heard you today, calling my name. The first person to give me that nickname I heard it clearly, your voice ringing in the school corridor. I raced around the corner, so desperate to see you. The teasing smile in your voice, like the way you called after me when you wanted my attention, when you wanted to tell me something. I waited, waited for you to say something more. But I realized that you are another person who has forgotten me. The voice wasn't real, but I could swear that it was. You are stealing my sanity, making me delusional. I'm losing my grip on reality.

[hazelscode]

☑ ONE UNREAD EMAIL

Timer released email to beatriceryder on her school email address. 

I wanted to look like art work. Didn’t anyone ever know that? Didn’t they see it?

I just wanted to look like pretty pictures that people drew and paintings. I wanted to be like fucking Titanic, I wanted someone to want to paint all the details of me but then I started losing them. I started losing everything, everything except for weight. Not that I was fat. More like things were weighing on my shoulders. 

I wanted to look like god damn art.

And I’m sure I will. 

In my coffin.