"Please," Kalla hissed, pressing her feet harder against Morganâs skin. With her dirty set of claws, she placed them just under her chin but kept them out of harmâs way. "You lost your humanity the second you wore your first sparkly shirt, you spoiled brat. Iâm doing what needs to happen in order to survive, and if that means killing someone Iâll do it." But I never said it wouldnât haunt me for the rest of my life. Already Kalla could see the girl from District 8 watching her with fear in her eyes. And Axel, terrified of the monster she was becoming. Even Toby and Karen watched her now. Covered in sand and dirty rain water. This wasnât the girl who left District Five. This wasnât the terrified trembling girl who was afraid of catching an illness from her shadow. This girl was terrifying and making others tremble in her path. Germs are the least of her worries now. She shook her head now. Morgan was right no matter how wrong it seemed. âIâm sorry,â she whispered. âIâm sorry it comes to this.â Squeezing her eyes shut, Kalla shook as she sliced Morganâs throat three times with each claw. She felt terrible. Kalla was a murderer, but if she didnât how would she be going home? Home to prove that her fears wouldnât swallow her whole. Home to show everyone that she did it. She was strong.
Under normal circumstance, Morgan would have likely spat out another reply but she refused to speak another insult. God, why was the girl prolonging her inevitable death. "A sorry excuse." Morgan whispered under her breath, unsure if Kalla could even understand or note her words. She couldn't bear another word. With every second that passed, Morgan's skin grew paler. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry it comes to this." An actual apology. Morgan lifted her damp eyelashes to view this apology for herself. But her sight was blurred, and cleared only to see her death happen before her.Â
Red wasn't quite the color of her blood, but red was precisely the hue of the world around her as she drifted into that which she most feared. Why had she opened her eyes? To face a fear. That was karma's final revenge, forcing her to see her own death slowly strike her. She saw no help, no rescue, and no way out.
Morgan Saylor died with her eyes open, peacefully viewing the world around her. She admitted to fear, and to cowardice, but proudly stood for what she viewed as her loyalty to humanity. In her last seconds, she could not bear to see her friends, or even her father, but her assassin as she clawed her through. At last, she felt sorry - truly sorry for what she decided had been a misuse of life.Â
The last time Morgan had shot Kalla with a taser, she regained control over her muscles with almost everything she had left in her. But now, she found it less and less easy to actually stand straight and not fall over. Electricity poured through her veins like water through blood. Her back buckled and she was staring up at the rain, and for once she had no clue what to do. When all of the electricity ran out, and Kalla was still standing, it was clear Morgan had no clue what to do. She obviously chose to keep her claws in tact with her body, which was a dumb decision. Her wits: stink. Shoving her down weakly, Kalla now pinned her down in a more orderly fashion. Her feet pressing down against her wrists and her torso all but covered. She ripped the claws from her chest and watched Morgan emotionless.
It was hard to understand, to watch something like the event that was currently happening occur right before her. Kalla curved in an odd angle but in the end, she stood, triumphant. Morgan's taser's electricity, the cause of death for Ryan, the power enhancer for Kalla. It made no sense. None. For a moment, Kalla's strength was barely there as she knocked Morgan down, but her strategics proved valuable. What Morgan didn't have the guts to do, Kalla did. Morgan grimaced and parted her lips to let the familiar sound of pain escape her. When she managed to find silence, she stared at an emotionless Kalla. She wanted to cry, oh so much. Her tears were there all throughout the games. She was an emotional wreck. But now, under Kalla, her eyes were ever so dry because she knew. Her moment was coming. Her breathing was unsteady, her heart beat fast with fear. A strong thought remained in her head: I'm scared. Clenching her jaw, she forced herself to swallow the lump in her throat.Â
"I didn't want to kill. I didn't do it on purpose. But you. You're a murderer. You're just one of them now."
"I kept my humanity... So where's yours Kalla?" Her voice was so confident, so proud of herself, but her hope was gone. Morgan Saylor was gone.
Balling her hands into tight little fists, the girl shut her eyes and trembled under Kalla. Her lip quivered with fear but she did her best to keep herself straight. Even through her tightly squeezed eyes, tears pooled at the corners of her eyes. It was coming, it was coming. Rye? Pate? Daddy? Can anyone help? The answer? :)
Morganâs shove was surprisingly powerful and commanding that Kalla didnât have much time to react. Before she knew it, she was up and ready to hit again. She had the strength, check, but did she have the wits? Narrowing her eyes, Kalla slipped one claw to rest between her thumb and pads of her fingers. It no longer stayed on her knuckles, but rather in her hands. She stared at it a moment, acting as if she needed to make a decision. Just as she took her eyes away from her, Morgan began to run, full force toward her. The cornerâs of Kallaâs lips twitch upward as she threw the claws out in front of her. They stabbed her clear in the boob. Her eyebrowâs raised with surprising sense of accomplishment. When she and Axel had practiced knife throwing in the training center, Kalla was horrible. Axel was the only one good enough out of the two of them.
Kalla appeared to be unarmed and indecisive - beautiful. Charging towards her, Morgan was surprised to encounter something entirely different from beautiful. How the hell was she supposed to know the bitch could throw too? Kalla, too, seemed surprised and thoroughly pleased. Morgan couldn't even bare to look down, because she knew where the claws had landed. She paused so suddenly, so in place, so caught in the moment, it was almost ridiculous. What hurt most, stabbing yourself with a blade, or sliding the blade out? Morgan didn't want to know. So instead, she did what was likely to be predictable of her. Taking her taser out of her back pocket, she placed it as one of her last resorts in front of her. She knew very well a new bolt had barely charged. The one shot, the one final shot it would give was her only hope. What other weapon did she have besides her taser? Her fists proved little. She held it tightly, inhaled deeply - please God -Â aimed, and pulled the trigger.Â
With all her might, Kalla brought her legs under Morgan and kicked the girl in the stomach. Her jaw ached but she chose to ignore the pain in order to stay alive. This was her fight. The pressure against her windpipe vanished as she flipped over against the sand. Without hesitation, Kalla brought her weapon across her cheek once more reopening the wounds of the day before. She didnât care anymore, all she wanted was to see Morgan Saylor dead. Two more and then she could be home and she can show everyone that sheâs more than just the girl who cried on stage during her interview. More than just the girl whoâs sister died in the war. Kalla Price would be the girl always remembered.
Morgan let out a grunt of pain when force was placed against her stomach. She lost momentary control and found herself under Kalla, the sense of deja vu strong as she relived the same scene of the previous day. The stinging sensation made it evident her wounds were reopened and worsened. When Kalla's claws became visible, Morgan noticed the blood that covered its tips, but when they seemed to near her for a second try, she evaded them, with half a gasp as she understood Kalla wasn't just playing anymore. Firmly placing her hands on Kalla's shoulders, she tossed her off of her and didn't waste time with standing up. Wiping away the blood that rolled down to her chin, she balled up her small fists and placed them before her. She knew nothing of hand to hand combat, but she knew how to run and hide. That could work, right?
Kalla rolled her eyes but still stepped out of the boat and took one long stride closer to Morgan. Crossing her arms over her chest, she was unsure of what she wanted her to do exactly so she ignored basically everything she said. âI can see youâve still got some blood stains from yesterday,â she offered a low giggle before shaking her head. âItâs a shame youâll never get to wash those out.â Before she could think, Kalla felt herself launching on top of Morgan with a malicious grin. But her form was sloppy and ill-prepared. Her arms were clearly still usable and breaking Kalla away wouldnât be hard. Mentally she scolded herself for not thinking it through.
In that moment, Morgan made up her mind. If she had to kill anyone ever again, it might as well be Kalla. She didn't reply to Kalla at all, mostly because again, she didn't have the time to do so. Morgan moved with much more ease under Kalla's figure, and in the brief eye contact they had Morgan was sure to smirk. "You're becoming predictable Kalla." In the space they had between them, Morgan swung at Kalla with her elbow making square contact with the girl's jaw. The rain now had them both drenched and covered in wet sand that felt just like mud. Morgan's hands were slippery but still she gripped Kalla's neck and pressured with all her strength.
As she sailed across the surprisingly peaceful ocean, Kalla had a lot of time to think. The Fallen has played in the sky as well as a steady rain that soaked her clothes and began to wash the dirt and soot from her skin, but she didnât care. She watched as every face from the previous day played and sighed. The one she cared for most was her fault. Always was, and she knew that Axel would die on her account, but it was now for some reason that she couldnât handle it. Kalla didnât expect to see any others at the smallest island, but was glad to see Morgan. If there was anyone sheâd love to kill, it would be her now. Hearing her sigh, Kalla returned her frown with a pleasant smile. âIt looks like youâve been crying,â she said with a smirk. Gripping her claws tighter, she waited for Morgan to respond.
Rain began to pour, not peaceful drizzling, but actual rain. Morgan looked up at the sky with the most displeased expression she'd ever given. "Are you kidding me?" she muttered mostly to herself than anyone else. Already the sand on the ground was clinging to her shoes. And now she had to deal with Kalla. Rolling her eyes, she placed her hands on her hips while her tongue spat at her. "Alright. Listen here bitch. I don't know or care what the fucking hell is your problem. Except that you're obviously insane and downright stupid. You want to fight? Then get your flat ass down here because I am done dealing and chasing after a fucking fourteen year old. And I know you'll get down here, you won't resist the temptation.. because I mean after all," Morgan smirked but her eyes spoke angry, "Bitches do what they're told right?"
The light rocking of the boat was enough to bother Morgan, not used to being near the ocean much less on top of it. Rubbing her eyes, she glared at the sun, angry at it for making its appearance. Why couldn't this game have a time out button? Or a rewind button where she could relive the best moments with her friends over and over? Or a fast forward so it would all be over soon, now. After the fallen were shown on the skies, it seemed as though Morgan's fast forward button stood in front of her, because everyone she knew was gone. How many did that leave? She didn't care to count and remember, because it meant reminding herself who exactly had already died. Taking nervous steps off her boat, she was surprised to see another boat arrive. She didn't even hide, or run. She simply stood there hoping whoever was arriving didn't have a bow and arrow. Eyebrows raised, she frowned and sighed to see who she was to meet yet again.
As the whole arena was manipulated into darkness, Morgan soon learned she didn't fear the dark, but what could be found in it. She held scratches that had slowly lost their stinging sensation, blood that had dried along her skin, and stained tears long ago gone. At least she wasn't cold, was her only thought of comfort as she carefully stepped over uprooted twigs. When sight was nearly impossible, she began to hope she'd run into Pate sometime soon. He was the only one who'd retrieved something other than a weapon, which meant a flashlight as well. The thought of her weapon, however, reminded her of the small spark caused as the electricity charged right before the bolt shot out. Deciding the small two seconds of dimmed light were better than nothing, Morgan slid out her taser and played with the trigger. Her surroundings were displayed briefly, confirming what Morgan already knew. She was in the jungle.. and the jungle was green. At least she knew she wasn't near any mutts. Continuing to keep the trigger near the charging of a bolt, Morgan made her way through more trees before taking a sharp, right turn. The footsteps that were heard once she took the turn gave her no time for thinking. Taser already half active, she accidentally shot the bolt out of fear and had but two seconds to see the lighted face of who she'd shot with electricity: Ryan.
Morgan couldn't even shriek this time, Ryan's whole body was thrown backwards and forced to land flat with a loud thud on the ground. Morgan jumped forward and knelt beside him, vigorously shaking his body in an attempt to wake him from his immediate sleep. She refused to think it was anything besides just that, sleep. "Ryan.. Ryan!" She pressed her ear against his chest, but swore she couldn't hear a beat. Gathering herself into a small bundle of fear, Morgan began to hide her head in between her knees while sobbing to herself. She'd done it again, she'd killed another person! Her thoughts wandered towards Clark's deceased body. Ryan had told her it was okay, that his death was clearly an accident and that she'd be forgiven. But a second accident? Two in a row? And to a boy who'd done nothing but protect her. Surely this time she would not be forgiven.Â
How selfish of her, right? Here was Ryan Brookes dying, and Morgan was crying about the pains she'd receive from Karma. At such thought, Morgan sniffed and looked up. Another sudden thought hit her, a cannon hadn't yet sounded. It was then when she hit such realization point that a sound was uttered from Ryan's lips. At once, she was at his side, a hand placed by his cheek as she cleared one of her own tears away. His eyes fluttered repeatedly and as soon as they seemed to be focused on Morgan's face, she began to sob out several apologies for damaging him. His speech was slurred, and barely understandable, but he seemed to say no. No? No as in don't apologize. You've done nothing wrong. Again, he was taking care of Morgan, making sure she wouldn't worry too much. Morgan quit her sobs and furrowed her eyebrows. "No, okay, no. You're hurt, I hurt you," she repeated, with all she could not to break her voice. "I will take care of you and do what you've done for me." Ryan didn't reply. It seemed as though every possible word he gave drained even more energy from him. His eyelids drooped over his eyes. Morgan wasn't sure what she was supposed to do. They didn't have any supplies, no water, no food. Just a taser. What was she supposed to do, shock him again? No, even Morgan knew that'd be too stupid. So instead, she watched him carefully. Soon, his eyes were entirely shut from her. Exhaustion hit her, but she refused to sleep. All through the night, Morgan kept an eye on Ryan. Any odd mumbling proved to be part of his sleep, but Morgan still spoke to him as though he were awake.Â
Rays of sunshine shone, and so did Ryan's eyes. He didn't speak, he didn't move. If it weren't for Morgan being so attentive, she would not have noticed him awakening. "Ryan, how are you feeling?" Morgan's expressions proved to be caring, her voice as soft and warm as she could handle. The boy managed to shake his head. "G-goodbye, Morg." Bye? ... Bye?! ... BYE?! Morgan stared at him quietly for a second before panic set in. "Bye? What do you mean bye? No, Ryan. No, no, no, Ryan. You can't leave, Rye, you can't." His eyes reflected Morgan's own exhaustion. "Is. Is. O-over." Morgan's tears began to roll down, her own landing on his cheeks before she quickly cleared them away. "Don't say over." "Foh me." His speech, his sudden fluttering of eyes, his twitching, his incoherent words - his brain was damaged. And it was all Morgan's fault. His eyes began to seal yet again, but this time, forever. "Please don't go, please don't go! Don't Ryan, don't!" One last flutter, one last shaky exhale, and he was gone. Cannon.
Morgan sat at his side, her fingers taking fistfuls of dirt and leaves and flinging them uselessly around the air. She didn't even care about her nails anymore. She shrieked, and cried, and wailed. Nothing could stop her. A deep, pounding headache hit the temples of her head, but another glance at Ryan had her scurrying backwards. She killed him. Hyperventilating, Morgan scurried backwards on the grounds, trying to create distance between them. Her lip quivered, her eyes burned. her nails were dirty. She wanted to hold him, and at the same time, run as far away from him as she possibly could. His face, one of the dead, was one that would surely forever haunt her. She stood up, taser in her pocket, arms wrapped around herself. She walked backwards, eyes glued to his body. "I'm sorry... I'm SORRY!" She yelled, before resuming her violent sobbing and running as far as her legs would permit her. She stopped by the shoreline of the island. But soon she found a boat that carried her through the sea. She collapsed against the floor and cried out all the tears she could possibly have left. She'd told herself she'd stop at the first sight of ground, but exhaustion got the best of her. When her eyes, puffy and red, reopened, she was on the smallest island of all: Number Three.Â
Their moment shared of silence was enough for Kalla to relax. Watching Morgan's eyes, she saw her terrified glance morph into a more malicious and belligerent sneer. The coils around her neck blocked her windpipe. Then came the electric current that shocked her. Literally. Rather than scream in pain, Kalla clenched her jaw and gave a low growl. She opened her eyes at Morgan through the current just as she grabbed her hair. With her claws, Kalla punched Morgan across the cheek, leaving a deep red and raw gash. Grabbing Morgan's hand, she didn't hesitate in taking the ring off of her finger. "You spoiled little brat," Kalla hissed. Once mor, she dug her claws into the back of Morgan's hand. Standing, she ran against the tremors sprinting toward the direction Axel had walked.
It wasn't difficult to identify what the source of the shaking was, even Morgan knew it had been the volcano. She gasped lightly but it wouldn't distract her from the current task at hand. Her electrical current however, did not even stun Kalla at all.. was that even possible? Next thing she was aware of, her perfect curls made contact with Kalla's dirty little fingers and her cheek stung. Her ring was taken from her while she tried to regain her proper posture, but all she managed to hear were Kalla's footsteps as she ran away. Pressing her index finger against her cheek, she frowned to see blood at her tips. Her wrists and hand held deep scratches.. were they useless? Morgan began to cry as she walked through the jungle in search of her allies, all happiness gone. A cannon had already sounded during Kalla and Morgan's fight, and Morgan prayed it wouldn't be yet another one of her friends.
Finally, Morgan was complying. Good, she thought. I didnât want to kill her over this dumb ring. Holding the small silver object for Kalla to see seemed as if it had transfixed her. For a moment, it almost hypnotized Kalla as well. Shaking it off, she quick leaned forward to snatch it out of her hands. Instead of grabbing the ring, she fell face first into the dirt. Had Morgan pushed her? No. Something made her fall. Pausing, Kalla felt the earth below her hands quake and tremor. Eyes growing wide, she silently looked at Morgan unsure of what to do. Should she run without the ring, or keep battling her until she finally retrieved it?
Kalla's face zoomed into Morgan's, and Morgan was about ready to slap her for forgetting the rules of personal space when sudden movement could be felt beneath her. It shared the unfamiliar feeling of an earthquake that sent both girls smack against the ground. Morgan shared Kalla's silence briefly, but unlike the girl, Morgan showed no hesitation in her next action. Taking her solar panel charger, she took its wires and wrapped them tightly around Kalla's throat. Pressing all of her weight on her, she let her head take the fall down against the ground in a failed attempt of having her fall unconscious. As if to give herself a reason, Morgan repeatedly smacked the girl's head against the ground while yelling, "You nearly clawed my veins out, you frizzy hair-ed jerk!"
Kalla instantly regretted not asking her stylist to tie back her hair. After receiving a face full of venomous spit home to the disgusting Morgan Saylor, the pull to her head was enough to catch her off guard. She paused, allowing her to tug her hair for a moment, until the ring was brought into view. Kalla gripped that wrist tightly and attempted to slip the ring off her finger. That was next to impossible with Morganâs grubbly little hands constantly moving around. She screamed in frustration, and brought her claws into Morganâs wrist. âSTOP MOVING.â
What the hell was this girlâs problem anyway? It was a stupid ring. Morgan had seen far more beautiful in her past, but it was the fact that Kalla was the one who wanted it, that made her deny handing it. Her fingers pressed tightly around as she squirmed at every grasp Kalla tried against her. When the girlâs blade made contact with Morganâs wrist, yet another shriek loudly made its presence. Her face was flushed with the sudden heat and pain produced from the girl. She spat profanity faster than an angry sailor, and even considered screaming for an allyâs help, but no. This was her fight. If the ring was what she wanted, she'd give it to her, as a distraction. "Fine, fine! FINE!" Morgan yelled, "You want it? You fucking want it?! I'll give it to you." Bringing her hand closer to Kalla's face, Morgan worked the ring around her finger, rotating the object close to Kalla's sight. Something about the ring's movement seemed to daze her.. or perhaps the ring itself? Morgan didn't care.
"Looks like thatâs whatâs going to happen then," she said, and without warning, Kalla lurched forward, digging her claw into one of Morganâs arms. With the heels of her hands, she shoved her down the the ground by her chest and quickly pinned her down the the ground without any mercy. If one of her alliance members had found the ring, then it was obvious Tobin left it in order for Kalla to find again. He had to. She growled, mostly to hear the sound of her voice again, before hissing into Morganâs ear. âListen here, perky trash. I donât know or care where you found that ring, but itâs mine. You can either give it back now and live, or I kill you and I get it. Got the picture?â
There was no time for reaction, and if there was, Morgan wasted it on screaming as Kalla launched herself towards her. She kicked her legs against the ground when the claw entered her arms and wailed loudly before Kalla had her pinned down. Morgan's breathing became heavy at once, and it took all she had to shut her mouth, but she managed. She stared at Kalla's hair while the girl hissed her words. When she turned back to look at Morgan, she was greeted by nice, beautiful spit followed by a toss of legs that sent them on a whirl, each fighting for the upper hand. Her claw dug deep into her arm, had blood seeping out and a pained Morgan, but her anger and hatred for the girl proved worthy while she tugged at her hair.
Every thought Kalla had was focused on Morgan and clawing her perky little face off, but it wasnât until she noticed the shiny little band wrapped around her finger. Narrowing her eyes, she shook her head. That was definitely Karenâs ring. âWhere did you get that ring?â Her voice surprised her, but she refused to show it. The relief that flooded through her body was temporary, and soon she feared that electricity might be tearing through her muscles in only a matter of minutes. âIâm holding them up, Morgan how could they possibly be too heavy?â
Raising an eyebrow, Morgan looked down at her lowered hand, her ring reflecting some of the sunlight. Kalla's momentary lack of anger and annoyance displeased Morgan. "This? Ryan gave it to me, we found it in the arena. But that's not the point!" Morgan now held her taser parallel to her hip, a wicked smile teasing the corners of her lips. "I don't know, I would ask your weak, spaghetti arms." Morgan waited for a reaction to feed off of, but found herself sighing over dramatically when Kalla's sight wasn't entirely on her own. "Quit looking at my ring! I already told you, It's mine. If you want it, you'll have to rip it off my cold, dead body."
Axel reluctantly agreed to split ways with Kalla. With her voice still unreachable, she wasnât much of a great traveling partner anyways. She took the route closest to the river by nightfall. They agreed, only 100 paces and then return back to their campsite, now in the woods. It didnât take long for Kalla to find another visitor, and of course, it had to be Morgan Saylor. She rolls her eyes but remains silent, preparing herself for battle that of course is inevitable. Morgan wasnât quiet, either. As she walked she stomped through the woods and possibly even spoke to herself. Kalla was unsure if the voice she heard was really herâs or just her imagination. She was ready to fight her again.
Morgan was afraid of traveling alone through the jungle, and she didn't like the idea of splitting apart from her alliance, but if they were going to try and find food, it would be necessary they did. Not resisting the idea, Morgan hopped along the jungle. She was loud, unintentionally stepping on nearly every branch and leaf there was to step on. Aside from that, she hummed to herself and occasionally turned her hop into a pleasant skip. Her solar panel charger dangled from her neck, and her taser gun was already in her hand as she sang her favorite part of the song off key. Pushing shrubs aside, Morgan found herself surprised and gave a light gasp to find Kalla staring at her only footsteps away. Her taser was already directed at her, both hands on the trigger before she slowly lowered it, a peculiar smirk on her lips. Â "Kalla Cat!" Morgan made a point of looking the girl up and down, "Upgraded claws, I see. Hiss Hiss Meow." Morgan grinned widely as she feigned clawing the air. "Question: do you get to use those," Morgan said before completely babying her voice, "Or are they too heavy for you to lift?"Â
Morning could be seen -- and felt. The heat increased as the sun insisted on rising. Morgan laid curled, still settled comfortably against Ryan's chest. She slowly raised her head, unsure if anyone had even guarded during the night. Morgan's slumber had been so heavy, she'd slept right through all arena announcements. But now she stood wide awake, giving Ryan several glances as her eyes adjusted to the light. Rubbing her eyes she sat up but immediately turned her head at the sound of nearby movement. She looked at the tributes resting on the ground, one clearly missing. More movement was noticed from her right, and at once, Morgan was on her feet. "Ryan, Rye, stand up," she whispered as her loud footsteps left a trail behind her. Soon, her whispers served no purpose as the screams of another took over the silence. Â
Her eyes scanned the scene as she approached the river, finally landing on a sinking Tia. The girl's hands flailed violently above the water before they disappeared entirely and in its place pooled a crimson hue. Morgan's eyes widened, her whole body tensed, and her skin went pale. A brief moment of beautiful, peaceful silence consumed her right before it was dramatically broken with a piercing shriek of terror fit for a demon baby escaped Morgan's lips. She stood momentarily frozen, screeching incoherent words as a loud cannon boomed over the arena. "Pay, Ry, Pry, Rate!" Morgan wanted to throw up, this was worse than the bloodbath. She considered running to hide behind one of the guys but curled her fingers into tight little balls of fists. Stiffly walking forward, she knew Tia was gone, but Flora wasn't yet. The fish bit the air ferociously and Morgan didn't think twice about taking out her taser. Her hands trembled as she aimed her gun-like weapon. Biting her lip, she pressed the trigger, expecting it to blow up one of the fish but watching instead as the bolt of electricity flew straight into the water. At first, Morgan assumed she'd uselessly wasted her battery, but was proven wrong as electricity sizzled and stung the fish. They were dead.. for a few minutes. "They're dead! They're dead for a few minutes, someone swim across!"Â
Morgan was able to restore herself to normality, and normality meant she was definitely not the one going to get her hair wet or her nails dirty. "She's going to get away!" Morgan cried with annoyance clear in her tone. She now took the time to look back at the friend she'd not placed attention to since he'd started grossing her out. She could understand some people had no problem displaying their love publicly, but watching Pate and Tia had been unbearable. But now, as Pate's expressions were pulled together in what she could only think was pain, Morgan inched closer to him. She barely noticed Ryan entering the river as she pressed the palm of her hand against Pate's. "I'm sorry," she whispered. She placed her trembling lips against his cheek before squeezing his hand. "I won't talk if you don't want me to.. but at least now she's a pretty angel looking down at you wishing the best for you.. and hoping you'll live and survive.." She let her sight linger on him but did not expect an answer or a word of his part. It no longer even bothered her that Flora had gotten away.
Refocusing her attention on Ryan, she watched nervously as he cut through the water. When he returned, she offered a weak smile. "I think we should start walking," she spoke softly while looking both Ryan and Pate in the eye. "The Career girl knows where we are, we're not safe here anymore." Morgan stood up, Pate's hand still in her own. She moved wordlessly, finally dropping Pate's hand and beginning to lift all she'd brought with her from the bloodbath. Numbers were dwindling down, and Morgan would admit her worry, but in the end she was loyal, and she'd carry on with Pate and Ryan up until the very end.
The silence that surrounded the whole alliance as they set up camp would usually be broken by one of Morgan's random ancient urban-wanna-be high pitched voice, but preoccupations held her brain captive.
She paid no attention to Pate or Tia, or even Ryan who would normally have Morgan poking at his side. Eyes wide and arms wrapped around her legs, Morgan rocked softly on the ground, thoughts navigating to the one and only. Dear God.. 'sup. Morgan cleared her throat and shook her head though the conversation was mental. I mean, That was very disrespectful I'm sorry, err, sir. So um, you're not exactly shoes and I'm not really excited about talking to you, but let's dooo thiss.Â
Morgan's fingers twitched lightly as she stressed over her thoughts. Well I. I just. You see. It's like. 'Kay I'm just going to say it... SORRY. I sah-wear I didn't mean to kill the old Clarkster. Yes he was annoying, yes his fashion sense always embarrassed me, yes he was quite the idiot, yes he looked like he was about to break whenever he walked around shirtless, and yes sometimes I considered stuffing a pillow up his pie hole so he'd stop snoring, but I didn't exactly mean to kill him! But my gosh though his snoring was horrible! Um yeah. Anyway, I guess I'm just trying to apologize, ya know? He was human, I'm human.. I feel like killing him was killing myself.. Am I deep or am I deep?Â
If we were back in that room with the funny tubes that took us to the arena, I think I'd tell him that I'm sorry I killed him.. I feel like crying, but then again.. nahhhh. He was going to die anyway, I even told him so myself. It's just the fact that I was the one to kill him, ya feel me? Yeah, I know you do. You are Him. Not Clark, ew no. I mean, you know, Him Him. I'm sorry if I'm being disrespectful.. I've just never spoken to you before.. It's so weird, It's like talking to myself. Well I am talking to myself.. well thinking to myself. Same chiz. ANYWAY, I'm trying to accept the fact that I can kill, it's like -- Watch out bitches, I can kill. But at the same time, I haven't really realized I can kill. I'm making no sense. I'm Morgan. I always make sense. Ha, I'm funny.Â
Well, how do I close this thing? Love, Morgan.... Um. 'Kay, bye! ... I'm just going to talk to Rye 'till I forget I was wondering how to end this chat.. Yeh, that's what I'll do. See ya later, Big Guy.Â
