“ WHAT DID IT ... FEEL LIKE ? watching me ... die. ”
` i . @prhophet.

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“ WHAT DID IT ... FEEL LIKE ? watching me ... die. ”
` i . @prhophet.
↳ “WHERE ARE YOU GOING?”
❝ where the fuck am i supposed to go? i don’t know. my friends are dead. ❞ your words are chosen carefully, down to the pronouns you use. they might have been his friends too, but that doesn’t matter to you now. MY ---- you know enough about grief to know which kind you have to display. you’ve chosen the selfish kind, the kind that insists no one is taking it worse than you ( and isn’t that true? you’re the SOLE SURVIVOR of a murder spree that took all your friends, of course you’re the one people should be sympathizing with. of course you’re the one people should be worried about. ) ❝ not that you give a shit. ❞
you see him as lesser than you, but only because that’s how you want to see him. you didn’t have a reason to kill him and that’s what eats away at you. you didn’t want to leave any ties to the world before you picked up that knife ----- that’s why all your friends are GONE now. all of them except him, but he was never really your friend, and he’s definitely not now that everyone else isn’t here to create some sort of buffer between you and him. but how could you justify killing someone who hadn’t tried to hurt brandon? THAT’S WHAT FEELS UNFAIR, that lennon never gave you enough ammo ( or maybe you’re just upset that he wasn’t joining in. everyone else listened to you, everyone else believed brandon was a monster. why didn’t he? does he now? )
a scoff, eyes shot back at him. ❝ i bet you’re glad they’re all dead. ❞ you don’t actually think so, but it’s all part of the act: be upset, be angry, take it out on everyone else because the killer isn’t here for you to take it out on instead. in fact, you hope he’s suffering too, because if you couldn’t have killed him, at least you can hurt him some other way.
██ 🔪 @prhophet
" Who cares? "
❝ maggie probably does. ❞ and you keep looking for ways to convince her that she does, convince her that what’s happening to her isn’t something she likes. but it’s not really up to you, and if she finds that brandon isn’t the obsessive, annoying, freakish monster you’re trying to make him out to be, then you can’t really do much about it at all. you know that, but still you try. and you keep trying, and you keep trying, your mind constantly looking for ways to paint him as the villain you so badly need him to be. because if everyone sees what you see, then he’s no longer in your way. your friends, they believe you. they treat him like the garbage you tell him he is, and they have your back.
but it’s not really them you’re worried about ----- IT’S HER.
you’ve never done well with threats, quick to be defensive even when nothing’s really happening. brandon isn’t trying to steal her from you, he isn’t trying to get in your way, but your mind has convinced you of it anyway. you can’t stand the idea of maggie being with anyone else, and even if you know brandon isn’t the guy she would be with at all, you have to do something to make sure that never happens. everyone already sees him as a freak, a monster, a bad guy ---- but she doesn’t.
because she always sees the GOOD in people. even the worst kind of people, she looks at them and expects to find something that balances out their bad traits ( and maybe that’s why she loves you. you know you’re not a GOOD GUY. you know you’re rotten and angry. but she sees something good in you, so you make sure she never stops seeing it. ) you will continue to convince your friends that maggie’s just being nice; that she’s too naive to believe that brandon really is trying to hurt her, because the more you convince them of that, the more people you have on your side. the more people you have on your side, the easier it is to show maggie.
❝ c’mon, you know how she is, always trying to be nice to everyone. someone’s gotta tell her she doesn’t have to do that to everyone. ❞ but you’ve already told her best friend that, tried to get HER to show maggie that brandon wasn’t worth her time because it might mean more coming from her instead. ❝ dude’s a creep. she has to know that too, she’s just too scared to admit it, doesn’t want to hurt his feelings. ❞ you scoff, because that’s never been your concern. ❝ but she shouldn’t give a shit what he thinks. if she’s getting freaked out by him stalking her, we have to do something about it. ❞
WE, because otherwise, you’re just the jealous boyfriend who feels threatened ( and even if that’s exactly what you are, she can’t see it that way too. ) you’ve always had such good influence on everyone else around you, you know how easy this can be, but there are still people you know you can’t force to do anything. LENNON ---- he has never been too close to you. he doesn’t listen, doesn’t back you up, and you resent him for it. perhaps you have no other reason to hold any bitterness towards him but that, that he doesn’t WORSHIP YOU like the rest of your friends seem to do. someday, you intend to change his mind about that ---- right now, using maggie against him seems like the easiest option.
❝ you really want her to torture herself like this? ‘cause i care. i’m tired of watching her try to do the right thing and only get hurt in the end. i’m going to do something about brandon, and you should help if you give a shit at all. ❞
🔪* @prhophet.
“ what the fuck is he doing? ”
❝ he’s been staring at that stupid rock all day. ❞ you scoff, but eyes never look back at the boy in question. you don’t need to look now, not when you’ve spent the last twenty minutes stealing glances and trying to figure him out for yourself. everything you do is always fueled by your jealousy, that hatred you feel for the boy who you know is so close to trying to take away the one thing that really matters to you ( that one thing you know may just be better to destroy yourself rather than let anyone else do it for you. you won’t let brandon win. you can’t make it that easy. )
❝ he’s carving some shit into it. i don’t know who the hell gave him a knife, but i wouldn’t get within thirty feet of him. he’ll probably snap any second. ❞ OR MAYBE THAT’S YOU, maybe you’re the one who can’t stop thinking about that knife, wondering what kind of damage you could do with it. and not just the physical kind ---- the mental kind. how easy would it be for you to twist EVERYONE’S views about the boy sitting across the room? you’ve already started it. your friends, they all think he’s a monster because you’ve convinced them of it. someday, she will see it too. maybe you just need that knife first; maybe it’s the tool you’re missing.
your mind can’t go there, not right now. brandon is doing nothing but minding his own business, yet it still gets under your skin ---- and maybe that’s part of it. HE’S DONE NOTHING WRONG, yet you resent him for it, because you know what a cruel guy you can be. you know how ROTTEN you’ve become from all the jealousy, the competition, this misplaced anger. finally, you set your pen down, head tilting to look up at brandon as eyes roll. ❝ probably something for maggie. ❞ words are much calmer for what you’re insisting, but you won’t give yourself away. ❝ the freak is obsessed with her or something. ❞ the more he can engrain that in other people’s mind, the more they will BELIEVE HIM, and the more they will suspect that something’s off with him ( but what will they say about the jealous boyfriend who can’t seem to let it go? )
❝ whatever. doesn’t bother me. ❞ luckily you’re good at faking an expression of apathy and nonchalance, but your words don’t do the same. ❝ just hope he gets the hint soon and fucks off. maggie’s way too nice to tell him that herself. ❞
██ 🔪 @prhophet
Whether Job even has a blanket to spare to begin with is questionable, to say the least. The only blanket he does have access to belongs to his motel room -- which, ordinarily, would not bother him -- but seeing as to how this guy is uninterested either way, suppose the debate is rendered somewhat futile. Boy howdy, is he familiar with the hardships of the Northern American winter -- this is the first time in at least five years that he’s owned a proper jacket, and only because someone had been nice enough to hand it down to him. It is flannel-made and obviously does not belong to him, fitting poorly; too loose around his narrow shoulders and too short on his long arms, leaving hints of the illustrations etched onto them in black ink exposed; but that remains true only for the brief moment that passes before he shrugs the jacket off his shoulders. Left only in one of his sleeveless, hole-ridden band tees, he holds it out for the boy to take.
“You don’t, my pasty white ass.” There isn’t much Job can offer anyone at all at nearly twenty eight and homeless, with only roughly fifteen bucks to his name; but if he can offer someone whatever little help he needed when he was younger, nothing in the world can stop him from doing so. The standoffish attitude is entirely unconvincing; suffice it to say he’s met his fair share of different kinds travelling across the States for the past twelve years.
“Just take it, huh?”
@prhophet / continued from this.