SINOPSIS — The lamuring lady, the sacrificial lamb, and you, the person who was in the newspaper, in large letters claiming to tell your story through art.
You are one of the members of the yellowjackets team, the number twenty three.
However, most people knew you like the girl who followed Lottie Matthews around like a lamb following a sacrifice.
She was your blessing and your sin.
You knew Lottie Matthews would be your downfall — but first, she would make you rise.
NOTE — english is not my first language, I apologize for any mistakes you might find. Please read the tw's first! Thank you for reading :)
TW's — animal death, cannibalism, death, homophobia, ptsd, sacrificial stuff, self harm, substance abuse, trauma, violence... so you know, normal yellowjackets things.
Chapter 01 — no spotlight shine as bright as her | It's 2021, you try to take a grip of your life just like Lottie the past has taken a grip on your heart.
Chapter 02 — between letters and lies | 1996, you pass your last moments on your hometown before heading to nationals.
Chapter 03 — as his son's | In 1996, they looked to you for answers that you pretended to know. In 2021, they looked to you for answers you didn't have.
Chapter 04 — the trees singing | The other girls went to a journey that Lottie didn't want to go (the other girls went to a journey you couldn't follow).
Chapter 05 — XXI The world | A reunion ball takes place on your old school. A reunion of memories burn your mind.
Chapter 06 — teeth teeth teeth | Lottie always gets more than she can have.
Gilbert Baker (June 2, 1951 - March 31, 2017) was a gay American artist, designer and activist, best known as the primary creator of the rainbow flag. In 1972 Baker was living in Chicago as an openly gay man, he was taught to sew by a fellow activist, Mary Dunn, using these skills to create banners for gay-rights and anti-war protest marches. It was also during this time that he met and became friends with Harvey Milk, an influential gay leader, who challenged Baker to create a new symbol of pride for the gay community.
The first rainbow flags were produced by a team that included Baker, seamster James McNamara and artist Lynn Segerblom. Segerblom, who was then known as Faerie Argyle Rainbow, reports to have created the original dyeing process for the flags. Thirty volunteers hand-dyed and stitched the first two flags for the parade. These original flags flew at the San Francisco Gay Freedom Day Parade celebration on June 25, 1978.
Though many variations have emerged in the decades since, the original design had eight stripes, with a specific meaning assigned to each of the colours: Hot pink for “sex”, red for “life”, orange for “healing”, yellow for “sunlight”, green for “nature”, turquoise for “magic” (though sometimes given as “art”?), indigo for “serenity” and violet for “spirit”.
I’m a little late for pride month, but I got all this done a lot quicker than I expected considering I only started working on it at the beginning of June (though I’ve been planning it on and off for a few years now😅). I did a lot of research and planning for each piece, and there was a lot I wanted to communicate with the project as a whole - it’s been a lot of work, and I challenged myself with a bunch of stuff I’m not familiar with, but I’m really happy with how everything turned out.
Happy pride, everyone, here’s to our community, to all the work that got us here, and to all the progress still to come! 🏳️🌈✨🏳️⚧️
[ID: A digital sketch of a butch lesbian standing with his hands in his pockets. He is wearing a plaid shirt buttoned to the top over carpenter pants. He has his carabiner clipped to the hammer loop. He is smiling, and lines are radiating both from his smile and from his carabiner of keys. Under the image is a handwritten caption that reads: “butch joy in the bathroom mirror at 10:38 pm”. END ID]
I'm right now writing a long Lottie x reader, a long lottienat + jackieshauna fanfic (and finished an au of them as greekgoddess) so I'm actually in need of requests or ideas, if you have any, please send them to me 😭
— I was thinking about a long (since pre crash) x shauna or x misty idk perhaps I'll make a long about dating lottienat or jackieshauna, cause those dynamics pre crash, wild and adult would be interesting.
CHAPTER SINOPSIS — Lottie always gets more than she can have.
NOTE — english is not my first language, I apologize for any mistakes you might find. Please read the tw's first! Thank you for reading :)
1996
You stood still at the lake. Shauna tried to take you back to the cabin but to no avail, you couldn't bring yourself to move, to think.
You cursed god, got mad at the divine and, consequently, got mad at Lottie. How could she allow such a thing, how could she not know?
Your clothes were wet as you kept yourself sitting on the holy lake — as holy as a sin could be — crying, sobbing loudly. You couldn't scream, your sobs weren't filled with sounds, but they were filled with a new-found hurt: you just entered a new life, a life without Laura, without her sweet words and thoughtful prayers. You didn't hear Natalie arriving, but you felt her steady hands on your shoulders, she pulled you up, holding you with a tight grip while silent.
You didn't bother to speak.
She helped you change your soaked clothes and she made you lay down on the floor, next to an almost sleep Lottie. You two stared at each other, sharing a pain no one else in the cabin could understand.
Lottie reaches out for your hand — you give it to her —, holding your lamb plushie on the other.
Sleep comes slowly, a calm slumber.
But when you wake up, you are terrified.
However, you embrace the tears and make a friendship with the fear, you did not mind the nightmare. There, Laura was alive.
— All okay, Tiq? — Shauna stared at you, from across the room, giving you a gentle tiny smile.
You knew she only meant to be nice, but to someone even consider the possibility of you answering yes, it was devastating, horrifying. Nothing would ever be okay.
You nod, anyway, getting up and putting your mattress on top of Charlotte.
It’s way later than when you normally wake up, but you suppose the girls gave you all a break since the last events. Your stomach is aching for food, and you have to hold onto the walls to not fall when you start to walk.
Shauna and you went outside, and she looked at the leaves you had bring to the girls, their taste was horrible, and there weren’t many of them, but it was better than sleeping on an empty stomach.
— I don’t think I would ever say that, but I do miss cutting meat.
You giggle at Shauna’s remark, your eyes drifting off to Jackie, sitting a few steps away from you two. Shauna’s eyes were on her too.
— Do you think this will end someday?
— Everything does eventually, Tiq. In a good or bad way… everything ends.
— You're harvesting then?!
Like a sinner, a nômade living on the consequences of Adam and Eve.
You hear Mari’s voice and your whole body gets on alert. You get up from your kneeling position, poorly trying to hide the little strawberry patch with your own legs.
She pulled you by the collar of your shirt, her face so close to yours that you could almost see the anger in her irises.
— it’s not for you.
You simply say, filled with hate too, angry at her for finding out,angry at her for being angry at you.
— Oh, yeah for who’s it then For your teen crush, yn?
Her voice is so bitter that your ears hurt. You hated arguments, you hated people arguing, especially at you.
— What makes Lottie more deserving of it than any of us?
You stare at her, and then you laugh.
Silly stupid little Mari.
How could one’s own mind be so deeply wrong? How could one’s own mind compare themselves with something as big and holy as a god?
— When they grow, they will be mine and Akilah’s too.
As she said that, she left.
You felt the urge to step on all your work, to dig your fingers deep on the dirt and take all those seeds elsewhere.
Of course you felt sad, everyone was thinking you all would die — and everyone was pretending to not care about the imminent death and only worry about the stupid ball. You weren’t mad because there was a ball, you were mad because everyone was suddenly losing hope.
For you, the absence of hope was a death of the soul. Soon, the body would go too.
What was the point of life if you didn’t hope for things to get better? You wanted to cry, but who were you to deny an opportunity to dance with Lottie? To deny an opportunity to dance at all?
If there was one thing Lottie liked, it was watching the moon. She would sit by the window and concentrate so hard that she could almost hear it saying goodnight.
She didn't hear you arrive, you didn't announce yourself, but a snap of your mouth did.
You smiled ungraciously and waved softly at her. Your furred ears costume had little ribbons on it, Lottie saw it as a sign: you were a gift from the wild to her.
— Why does your mom call you bambi? — you approached, leaning on the tree next to the girl and looking in the same direction as her.
— It's because I jump around when I'm excited. — Lottie smiled, looking at you; You were different, lighter. Maybe it was the mood of the upcoming party, nobody felt pressured to be someone different in the dark lights and upcoming death.
— What should I call you then? My deer? — you laughed, playing on the pun of dear and deer.
Lottie Matthews always knew what to say, making cheeky comments and being the outgoing type, but you took all her words, she could never finish a sentence, let alone a seductive one.
Ignoring the way her heart was skipping a beat at being called "mine", she followed what was comfortable: concentrating on the joke.
She liked hearing it. She didn't know if it was her instinct as an only child who was born without having to share, but the idea of being the only one to whom you felt comfortable enough to open up so much made her chest fill with pride.
She tried to push aside her selfish thoughts of keeping what you said to herself.
— Have you ever read Sarah Ruhl? In one of her short stories, she tells about a great American surgeon called Halsted. He was married to a nurse whom he loved very much. One day Halsted noticed that his wife's hands were red when she came back from surgery. — you were so enthusiastic, explaining everything with such joy, how could she remember and know so many general and random facts? How could Lottie pay attention to her costume when all she could do was stare at your lips? — And then he invented rubber gloves. For her. Sarah said it was one of medicine's great love stories, talking about how the difference is made out of love.
Lottie stared at her, smiling and vaguely remembering reading something about the construction of love. She knew that her feelings for you were big enough to make her invent something as good as gloves. Even if at the moment it was something as small as a party.
— Do you think everyone is going to have a love story this good? Or does the universe choose a few lucky people at random, Lotts? — you thought out loud, then laughed mockingly and denied it, asking her to let it go. Lottie smiled, handing you a box.
You had to hold back tears when you opened it and saw a tiara made out of leaves and flowers. You smiled happily.
You couldn't form words, so you just hugged her tightly.
— Your antlers are a bit too big — you laughed.
And Lottie felt the inspiration of a scientist.
2021
You loved gardening.
Everything you did in the mud, came back in some way. All your efforts would eventually lead to something, it didn’t had any subjectivity on it, it was simple and clear: plant it, take care of it and receive it.
You had a notebook to note every single one of your seeds and gardening cares, some tips and even pictures of your most beloved ones. However, your favorite of it all was, without a doubt, your strawberry patch.
It was so incredibly taken care of, strawberries as red as blood, leaves as green as hope. You would sit there, putting water, take off bugs with delicate fingers and eat a fruit straight from the patch.
— I never liked strawberries too much, most of them don’t taste like anything.
Laura said, playing with one of the ladybugs.
Or, rather, Laura’s ghost said. Today, she felt adventurous, following you outside of your house. Her clothes dripped water, and her neck was burned by flames. It was an unusual sight — that was already usual to you.
— You can’t know they all taste like that if you don’t eat all of them.
— That’s stupid — she giggles, shaking her head — you don’t need to know everything to hate it.
You smiled, taking off your gloves and smiling at her.
— I was never able to see the crickets; I used to get so deeply upset about it… — You confessed, your face holding a nostalgic smile; It was a strange action in Laura’s point of view: you were so young, what could you have in the past to be longed for? — Until one day a cricket got into my room and I ran away… I’m afraid that once a person truly sees something, she will wish to go back and never see anything at all. like you, with a strawberry.
You shake your head, it was funny, confess sins to a ghost.
There was a whole life in those woods, hungry and harvest, misery and tragedy and hope, and there was birth and death.
And it's hard because you can't kill the person you were in that lifetime, but you also can't still be her. So there's just this ghost of yourself lurking over your shoulder, despising your every move, watching you sin.
— And guess what, Laura: tomorrow when I wake up, I'll have a wonderful day, and when I put my head on my pillow to sleep, I'll think again: how much happier I would've been if I had been doing this at seventeen.
When on the stage, you felt a flower fall on your feet, you got down and picked it up, recognizing it as a white lily.
You didn’t see her right away, but you felt it.
Your soul was being pulled toward hers and then your eyes went to find her, looking non-stop for someone who would make your breath stop.
Twenty five years later, and you would still recognize her blind. You would still acknowledge her presence even if all your senses were compromised, for you would only be you if there was the flame of your love for lottie inside your body.
You just hoped that the you’s of other universe’s had a more kind life to love her.
1996
The doomsday ball
You’ve never felt happier as you did when Lottie asked you to go as her date to the ball. Finally, the rainbow before the thunderstorm.
Your mother said that there were five hells — and that one of them was destined only for people like you, but you didn't care about that anymore. If hell were as warm as Charlotte's embrace, you would walk through the gates with a smile on her face.
You had always had many doubts about the Bible.
You read the verses, imagining yourself in the places of angels and heroes — even though the position of sinners, and those who sought mercy, always seemed more real to you (as if you had been born with your hands in prayer and your knees already scraped).
You looked at the saints, seeing them deprive themselves of their desires to finally find the way to God. You thought about what you wanted — Charlotte — and saw no difference between your desire and your destiny.
You smile, seeing everyone so pretty and happy, like things were supposed to be since the beginning. You take a deep breath, going to take a sip of your drink as you watch Van e Tai give a kiss.
A whole new world seems to show up in front of you.
A world of possibilities and wishes, of love and care.
A world where there were no sins, only passion.
— C'mon, dance with me! — Lottie’s arms were moving like tentacles, like a snake calling you to sin.
Eager to please, you bit the apple. Your movements were too graceful for a party, you didn't know how to move without rules to follow, without an established pattern to be guided to.
One of Lottie's hands went to your left cheek, caressing it slightly while the other was holding a makeshift cigarette Natalie had made — you wondered what would burn more: the flame she was smoking or her touch.
— You're just such a pretty little lamb, aren't you?
Lottie’s tone was condescending, but she had a playful, even flirtatious smile for you — the look of a predator who knows how to tear every piece of his prey apart.
Lottie leans closer, her nose almost touching her lover's one. You could feel the warmth of her breath on your skin. Lottie pulls your body to her.
— I just can't hide how I feel... I want you so much. I've never wanted someone as much as you, darling... — she presses her lips together as she goes in to whisper something in your ear — Your heart is so sweet...
Lottie gets even closer, her voice barely audible:
— I want to taste it.
And the closer she gets, the far away she seems. You don't know why, but the booze might have made your thoughts and vision unclear.
You smile, giggling happily, your hips moving to the music playing inside your head.
Lottie’s mouth gets close, close to your chest and, having access to your skin by the cut of your dress, she licks your chest. Gently, at first, then eagerly, hungrily. Her mouth leaves hicks on your skin, you feel the blood being pulled and released and then you feel the first bite. Her teeth penetrate your skin.
You cry out, but it's a muffed one, not out of pain, but out of relief. You get out of breath, your shaking hands going to her hair, caressing it.
While you felt your meat being taken away from you, while Lottie took what always had belonged to her, your mind was feverishing with thoughts, screaming confessions:
I cannot confess anymore, it is not enough, I need to devour my sins, to let them perish from where they came from.
Biting my tongue, I wish to bite my hand.
I want the marks, I need the flaws and claws and teeth teeth teeth
Lottie takes a step away, her eyes watery from the pleasure she had felt, her fingertips aching to touch you, her teeth aching for more.
Her mouth was completely bloody, with your red ink falling down her chin.
— You are the most beautiful creature I've ever seen.
You felt the urge to kiss Travis too, only to be able to feel Lottie's lips, but then Shauna kissed him and suddenly the thought made you sick.
Your head was dizzy, you missed Laura.
You sit out the ground of the cabin, not able to recognize faces or things, you can hear voices but none of them is clear. So you stay still, trying to understand why your vision was so blurred.
When your eyes truly open, you are alone. A deep fear settles onto your chest, and you start to breathe heavily, your lips quivering and bloody tears rolling down your face. You put your tongue out, tasting their salt flavor.
You did not pray that night, but you had a serious personal conversation with Jesus. You hoped he had good days, good enough to show him that life isn't just about dying for other people's sins.
CHAPTER SINOPSIS — A reunion ball takes place on your old school. A reunion of memories burn your mind.
NOTE — english is not my first language, I apologize for any mistakes you might find. Please read the tw's first! Thank you for reading :)
2021
— So, what does it say?
You asked, looking at the cards in front of you. Only one could be read clearly from where you stood: XXI the world; The others weren’t very readable, but you could recognize a knight in one of them.
You were never one to believe in other things rather than God, but you needed a signal, it didn’t matter where it came from.
In the past, it would come with pretty lips and bangs, nowadays you had to contempt yourself with cards.
— The world usually means a completion of cycle, a chance to inspire others with what you’ve learned, however, your card is on reverse, which means you haven’t truly accepted the end of it yet. You are stuck.
You put on a facade, feeling your stomach start to boil with anger. Not over the tarot lady, but at yourself, at the truth.
Stupid plane, stupid game. Stupid heart that didn't know when to stop loving and when to start thinking.
You couldn't even watch a football game without balling your eyes out, how embarrassing was that?
— The eight of wands is about action and accomplishment, it talks about coming to terms with transformation of one’s own relocation or even, well, sexuality… — she keeps going, like she hadn't filled your mind with questions and worries — Now, the knight of swords… I can see you went through really hard conflicts — externally and internally — but this says for you to keep going, to maintain your pace: things will run smoothly as long as you keep going.
Keep going? Isn't that what you had been doing over the past years? Just surviving without exactly living?
You had never left the woods, not truly. Your mind was still in that cabin, your heart was still buried five feet deep in that mud, your soul was locked within the trees.
You were more lost in society than you were in that desert of hope.
— So, you have loved her for thirty eight years?
The madam needs to hold out her surprised face, perhaps even a mock disbelieving giggle after hearing your confession.
— No, we've met thirty eight years ago — you correct her, shaking your head — I've loved her my whole life, I just wasn't aware of it yet… but she was there, on the lucky coin on the ground to the kind words of strangers and being at the right place on the right time. She has always been there.
When you arrived at your house, it was more silent than normal.
You took a deep breath, going to your room to take a warm bath.
Your problem was your simplicity: to love Lottie was as simple as your lungs working, automatic. Well, automatic until you remembered it, then you got too self conscious and the Lottie-oxygen was ripped off you.
You stared at the dollhouse on the corner of your (filled with trinkets and blankets) room, frowning when you realized four dolls together. It wasn't exactly surprising, you've caught Misty and Natalie's doll together a couple of times, the same with the little Shauna and Taissa, but the four of them? Oh, that was different.
You looked at the clock. Strange. It wasn't very common for them to be so on time, but you wondered if things had changed.
Yes, perhaps they weren't the ones you've once known.
After the bath, you get yourself ready with an outfit you've picked three weeks ago, when the reunion ball had been announced. Twenty five years later. Twenty five.
A whole life.
You call a taxi, and you get to the school.
However, you stood in front of the building, unable to move, whether to enter or to leave. You just stood there, with a lost sight and aching heart.
An empty cage of flesh staring at the past.
It wasn't long till you found yourself in some company.
Natalie stared at you with those indifferent eyes of her, you wondered which one of your sins she was undressing.
— You saved me once, then tried to kill me.
Her voice was low, heavy on your ears as she smoked a cigarette.
— Well, don't be so upset, you're not special… — you giggle, nervous and anxious about the interaction, perhaps even embarrassed — I've done the same with Shauna.
— yeah, but it's different, you and I, it was different, — Nat shakes her head, not able to look you in the eye — we were truly friends.
— I'm sorry for upsetting you, Nat.
She giggles lowly.
— That's different than apologizing for doing it, — her eyes now are on you, angry — you can't even bring yourself to say it, can you?
You take a deep breath, looking at the floor like it has all the answers.
— I ask for your forgiveness like I ask God's one. — she waited for the “but” — I won't lie while trying to redeem myself, I cannot be sorry about anything I've done on her will.
Not even the devil had fallen as hard as you.
1996
You hold the meat on your palm, the blood running down your hands like red gloves, you have tears in your eyes, streaming down your face as you sob quietly. You didn't mind being the cook, having to be the one to take out the animal from the meat —be the one responsible for the others feeling a little bit more normal about the nerves and feet on their tongues. They could pretend they didn't know where it came from.
But you? You could never not remember the eyes of the rabbits, and the cheek of the deer.
However, you did mind today's date: you were supposed to be at the stage, dancing under the spotlight, waiting for Lottie backstage, waiting for her to give you a bouquet of flowers.
You wonder who got your solo — you wonder if you will ever be in the center of people's eyes again.
Lottie was watching you from inside the cabin, staring at you with care, her head resting on the window. She wished she could open a hole on time and freeze you two there together, perhaps in that way your worries of the future, present and past wouldn't cloud your happiness.
She wished she could morph her body into a wood platform and give herself for you to shine. She would make everybody in that cabin stop what they were doing to watch you, she would make sure everyone would clap at the end and smile during it.
But she couldn't, she couldn't make you dance when all you were thinking was how hungry everybody was, how soon it would all get to an end. You never said it, of course, too gentle and kind to confess your loss of hope, but Charlotte knew. She always knew.
And she needed to do something for you.
Something to change what she had seen —not your dance, but you in her visions.
You on a plate.
When Lottie got closer to you, you first felt the touch of her hands on yours.
When Lottie smiled, you felt your heart explode into a thousand needles.
When Lottie got even closer, with her lips shaking, you felt like you could ascend to heaven for being known by an angel.
And when she kissed you, everything sang. You felt like her lips could end wars — but, who knows, perhaps start then too. There wouldn’t be enough warriors for all the Troy’s she would make fall under her touch.
If beauty had been born in the ocean with Aphrodite, under Lottie’s touch Venus had been reborn.
You would put your own blood on the cabin's door to save Lottie from her own sins — you weren’t sure what you would do to save yourself, but you weren’t able to think about it that much: there were thousands of screams in your ears.
Had you already been sent to hell?
— Breath, Lottie, it’s okay.
You stood silent while holding your hands on the girl’s ears, trying your best to mute Van’s screams. You turn your head around, not able to look at Charlotte’s hurt expression. Your eyes meet Jackie’s and you two share an understanding look.
Your heart ached for Van —she had done what you would've done too: follow your heart to the depths of the woods.
You put Lottie’s head on your shoulder, hugging her tightly and, when the screams ceased, you stared at her again, taking a deep breath.
God would make a fifth hell if he knew how sinful you were; if he knew how your only true devotion was to Lottie’s soul.
You didn’t mind it though — nothing could be warmer than her embrace.
You came back from Misty, bathroom time, the trees in the walk there had ripen a piece of your dress that you instantly tied to cover.
But Charlotte saw, she looked at your scraped knees, almost in living flesh.
— applepie... What have you done?
Both your eyes widened — one in surprise, the other in fear.
— I mortified.
— I know what it is, what I want to know is why.
You didn't have the courage to look her in the eye, you barely had the courage to stand up, to stand in the sight of your best friend.
— I, I...
— You don't even have the courage to admit it, because you know you shouldn't. It's different with us, don't you realize? You're not afraid, you're not afraid because you know you're not wrong, or do you think we're wrong? Do you think we should suffer and die just because we love someone different than what is expected?
Charlotte's questions went on and on, Your head began to spin, you felt dizzy, your stomach in your throat, your heart devastated.
— No! I don't think we should die, that's the problem, Charlotte! —you shouted back, thick tears streaming down your face, your hands shaking from the adrenaline rush in your body — That's the problem, I can't think it's wrong... I can even make a mistake, then I ask for forgiveness, repent and never make it again, but this? But us? Oh, Charlotte, I sin and I want to sin again and again and again. I look to the heavens and I can't see any god greater than you, I can't believe that there is anything more divine than your lips on mine... don't you see how wrong that is? How can I commit countless blasphemies just because I love you?
— Love isn't a sin, it's salvation, darling...
— So why do I feel so dirty? — your speech was interrupted by crying, which intensified when Lottie's arms gripped you tightly in a strong, secure embrace.
— Because they made you feel this way, because they're the ones who made up the rules, that doesn't mean they're right rules, — Lottie moved closer to her best friend's face, putting her hands on you, holding your cheeks — if it was something that needed a cure, why would God have made you sick from the start? No one is born to suffer, sweetheart. Not even the lamb.
You wanted to kill her.
You truly wanted to kill Laura Lee, but not in a dictionary definition of killing, you wanted to lock her in the forest cage you all were in and deny her freedom of choice. You wanted to murder her hope and stupidity.
To think of flying was one thing, to actually open your wings and decide to jump was another one, very different.
— I want to go with you, — you cry out, eyes stained with tears, your cheeks burning — Leonard won’t mind sharing the seat.
Laura smiled sweetly at you, her hand going to yours.
—You need to stay and pray here, — she answered, a lovely smile on her face — besides, Lottie needs someone around.
— You need someone too.
— I’ll always have you two. And you two will always have me.
Her response is the end of the conversation, and you take a few steps away, going to Lottie’s embrace to watch Laura Lee go.
CHAPTER SINOPSIS — The other girls went to a journey that Lottie didn't want to go (the other girls went to a journey you couldn't follow).
NOTE — english is not my first language, I apologize for any mistakes you might find. Please read the tw's first! Thank you for reading :)
Chapter 04 — the trees singing
When you looked in the mirror, you brought your notebook with yourself, with a red and white pattern fabric cover, and in it you made lists, listing every little thing that was different from the day before. You liked to keep yourself sane, to keep track of where you had changed and how you perceived that change. Most days, things stayed the same, but there were moments, like this one, when you felt that something had changed, but you had no idea what it was.
Something in me wants more. I can't rest. Sylvia Plath, Your first forbidden reading.
You thought about the notes in your notebook, how your hair grew a finger after you started not straightening it, and how when your mother found out, you would cut it off.
You thought about the white dress you were wearing, about how you couldn't even look at your own body without your nightgown on.
You thought about Stephen and how you would hate the life you were leading, you thought about being angry, angry at literature, at thoughts and at Charlotte, because you knew, you knew, that the only reason you wanted so much more was because you knew there was more than what you had.
You wondered if it was worth living a life of ignorance or a life full of incomplete desires.
You thought about Lottie's eyes and came to the conclusion that nothing would be more valuable than having her attention on you.
And then you felt a tear run down your cheek, the drop taking you out of your train of thought and back onto the tracks of the real world.
It wasn't a tear of sadness, but a tear of polish. You had been staring at yourself in the mirror all this time, without blinking.
As for me, I had a lot to say. But I remained silent. Albert Camus, 1932, studied it in the first period, between free classes and before cheerleading practice, where you went just to steal the other girl’s glances. Nothing fulfilling.
You stared at the little desk on your left, a decorated letter on the top of it.
All of your promises were handwritten and sealed with wax in a beautiful colored envelope full of stickers. You liked concrete things —including words.
You wiped your eyes and left the room, straightening your clothes and walking to the kitchen to start preparing breakfast.
1996
— I still have a bad feeling about this place.
— I can sleep outside with you if you want us to.
Lottie smiled at you, shaking her head.
— We all need to stay together, or else, everything will start to fall and freeze.
You couldn’t really grasp what she was truly saying, but you were used to it by now: always looking for more of Lottie to understand. You two were laying down on the floor of the cabin, sharing a mattress while watching everyone else sleep. Things had turned a little sour ever since the night where Lottie screamed in the attic. You still were mad at Laura for hitting on her with your own bible. What kind of forgiveness could a bloody thing give?
You shake your head, looking at your dirty nails with a sigh, you really wanted to have some nail polish right now. A lot of the girls thought you were a bit stupid for wanting to keep getting yourself dolled up while in the middle of the woods, but you had an urgent need of being pretty all the time. Perhaps it was simply a like to dress up.
Or, perhaps, it was the thought of always having a man over your shoulder, telling how you needed to look or be, what to say and think. Who to kiss.
Lottie held your hand extra tight when she was having nightmares. You felt jealousy of Lottie’s body. Not in a way “She’s much prettier than me”, but in a way of “her cells can reach places my hand can’t”.
Her hand went to your knee, caressing it slightly.
— I don’t like when you do this, — she said, fingertips passing so very gently and carefully on your wounds — you don’t have to ask forgiveness for anything.
You wished she was right, but Lottie didn’t even know what you did, how could she grant you forgiveness?
Charlotte smiled in between the silence, sitting on the floor next to her best friend, her mind creating narratives, possible paragraphs for the letter she was writing to you.
"I'm sitting here with you, at the kitchen table. I'm holding a knife, but my grip isn't the same as your mother's. I'm holding it to cut an orange. I hold it to cut an orange. I give you the juiciest part."
She had gotten stuck on that part. How were you able to write so many promises so subtly and quickly? You made it seem as if pledging your soul to someone else was something trivial.
— Do you think my mother takes pleasure in hurting my heart?
You turned your face towards your best friend, tilting your head to one side as you always did when you expected an answer. Charlotte had it, she always did.
— I don't know, maybe she wants to soften the meat before she eats it, only in this case the hammer is words and there's only one person at supper... who keeps banging on the already cooked meal.
— So my mother wants to eat my heart?
— No, but she certainly wants it for herself. Maybe she'll freeze it, keep it in a box and only give it back to you after your wedding... of course, under the guardianship of your future husband, not yours.
Charlotte's words made you snort, your lips quivering slightly at the mere thought of marriage —you shivered at the thought that you might, at some point, have to make promises to a man. You would never write letters to a boy and, if you had to, you would burn them as soon as your mother saw it, make a little house out of the leftover dust (and live with Charlotte there forever).
— quia pulvis es et in pulverem reverteris.
You murmured quietly to herself. Charlotte looked at you curiously, her eyebrows raised in doubt, not understanding what you were saying.
— I'd burn with you.
— Do you miss too much of your family, Misty?
Your sudden question took her out of her bubble of thoughts. She stared at you for a couple of seconds in an awkward silence before speaking.
— I don't know, I don't remember much of our time together... In fact, I remember almost nothing. — Misty complained, frowning. It was a lie, she remembered, she just didn’t want to.
— I wish I could forget. — you said, getting closer to her with a smile on your face. Big gentle eyes looking at Quigley as your hand goes to her shoulder — I think we should make lots of memories together, then. That way, I can keep them for you.
The phrase made Misty's body warm up, a happy smile on her face as she nodded.
You two giggled together, pressing the berries you’ve found to make the medicine Misty had the recipe for.
Misty looked at her palm, and then at you, offering a piece of her meat. You shook your head, denying it.
— No, thank you, I cannot eat today.
She frowned, asking: — some kind of religious fast?
— No, no, not really, — you shake your head, giggling — I’m testing some plants I've found… to see if it is poisonous or not.
— So to test it you fucking ate it? — her mouth was wide open — are you crazy?
— It’s the only way to see if the other can eat it… — you say it isn’t such a big deal — I don’t eat everything I find! I have a process, okay?
Misty is still wary about your ideas, but she listens closely. Maybe wondering how you two never found each other before, you were so alike, so eager to be needed.
— First I inspect it, I don't eat the ones with little bites on it or the dead ones, then I smell it, if they have certain odors you shouldn’t eat them, like peaches… I rub a piece of it on my belly and wait a long time… If it doesn't get red, I start a whole other routine to see it is edible.
— Sounds like a lot of work… a deadly one.
— Well, we all got to help in some way, right? — you didn’t mention how the first ones gave you a horrible headache and stomach pain. Perhaps this was your cross: the suffering of Jesus was integral to his obedience and faithfulness to God.
— Have you had any luck yet?
— I did actually, and it tastes almost nice.
— almost nice sounds horrible — Misty answered, laughing, making you laugh too.
— Hey! Don’t be mean to my sweet little leaf — You retorted, putting the most strength you could get onto the berries, you needed to have all the liquid pass through the fabric — Such a pretty color for lipstick.
— Only if you want poisonous lips.
Misty comment made you think about the idea of having poison on your lips.
You would kiss every man on earth.
Natalie and you were looking at Lottie eagerly, staring at the young lady, Nat with the gun and you with the can in your hands —like Cain and Abel unknowingly setting their fates onto their offerings, looking at God (only one receiving the eyes back).
Lottie didn’t say anything, only putting back the bullets on the gun and taking the can out of your hands, closing it to give to Taissa and the other girls. She and Nat left quickly.
Van got closer and looked at you, with those orbs who could unravel all your secrets.
— You like her, don’t you?
You frowned, tilting your head slightly.
— Who doesn’t?
Van decided not to put so much into the conversation, she knew it would come to you at the right time.
— You truly won’t go with us?
You wanted to go, truly wanted to, but found yourself unable to go somewhere Lottie wouldn’t be able to follow.
— No, I won’t… got to keep everyone on track around here since you won't be able to do it.
— Ah, of course I would — she giggles, hugging you before starting to leave.
You stare at their departure, a pang on your chest: you did not want to have the group split.
Your mind goes to a few days ago, when Lottie had been redeemed, Laura and you at the lake, with Lee holding Lottie. You wanted to be present, but not to be a part of it —too afraid your dirty would pollute the holy lake.
It was a place of holiness, ever since the beginning meaning that things would get better, a symbol of hope. Whenever Lottie felt lost, she could find assurance and answers on the water —which, coincidentally, was your favorite place to be. You loved the idea of it all being washed away, cleaned.
However, watching them leave, knowing about the red lake… you wondered if even Moses would be able to bend such obstacles.
You knew nothing would remain the same.
— I'd be afraid to sleep near a window that big… — you said, staring at the huge window on the right side of the cabin, a heavy but very damaged curtain folded at the side.
— It's a better view than your scary porcelain dolls… —Lottie answered, throwing your sheep plush in your direction.
— Please don't talk badly about my daughters, it's a delicate subject! — you laughed, putting the plush on your lap, making Laura laugh too — oh...
With the sudden change of subject, Charlotte followed your vision, sitting down on the floor next to Lee and you, looking out of the window at the view outside.
— They're making a nest in such a horrible tree! It moves too much...
Lottie frowned, taking a step forward, as if the proximity would make her better able to understand the animal mentality.
— Is it bad to find familiarity without stability, tiq?
She asked, but her eyes remained outside, studying the way the wind made the leaves move, the branches wobbly and about to break, the roots thick and strong.
You listened, but your eyes remained on your best friend in silence, studying the way her bangs fell over her forehead, how her cheekbones shone in the orange light of the room.
You two both smiled into your fields of vision as if you two were seeing all the wonders of the world at once, an epiphany of beauty so close to the touch of your hands.
No man can bathe twice in the same river.
2021
You were not able to sleep, to eat or think about anything else but the blank canvas on your room. Twelve hours ago you had entered your office and weren't able to leave since, having the urgent need to make the perfect painting —there were already four finished on the corner of the room, but they weren't good enough.
Nothing was good enough.
Your stomach was hurt and you could feel your underwear wet from how much you've been sitting down without going to the bathroom or even moving, your body ached for a stretch.
You hear a loud noise, an animal scream, so you turn around, it gets you out of your obsessive haze and puts you into another one: one that searches for directions.
Your feet take you to the forest, the one only a few feet away from your residence, like your own personal (haunted) garden.
You smile as your bare feet touch the hard floor, stepping on rocks and sticks, you giggle with yourself, your arms moving freely, your hands dancing around your body.
I cannot take the idea of a yellowjackets au where Jackie doesn't die frozen, but the hypothermia (+ the need of believing in some spiritual) leads her to a type of hallucinations where she believes Lottie is against her because Jackie is the true savior.
The group splits into two and the hunts are actually one against the other, the cabin is on fire over a member of the other group doing it, and so goes on with an insane jackie who needed so bad to believe in something that she becomes it in hope she could be in the control and not let it get too far.
