“Hello,” the one in the suit greets. “Thank you for joining us. We just have a few questions for you.” The men introduce themselves. The one in the suit is Agent David Wilkes, FBI. A stoic and authoritative – though not unkind – professional from the looks of things. The man in the sweater is Dr. Parker Hessman. He doesn’t appear very threatening with his thick-rimmed glasses but he’s a trauma psychologist and it’s never good when one of those are around.
“We’ll start off easy,” Agent Wilkes begins. “Just some preliminary questions as we don’t want to overwhelm you. Let’s begin shall we?”
( once again stealing gray’s formatting bc i really liked it ily gray )
prelude.
Jenny wakes suddenly, eyes shooting open as they gasp for their first awake breath. But that first shock of waking up was completely usurped by the shock that came with seeing their surroundings. They shuffled back, their back pressing into the cold metal of the bed frame as their eyes darted frantically around. Searching desperately for something familiar they could cling to. What they really wanted were the others, the girls they’d spent the last twenty days with. Shane. Specifically the wanted Shane. But the longer they looked around the room , the more they would just accept anything. They’d take one of those stupid pink journals that had littered their campsite. But they found nothing. Everything in this cold, dull room was unfamiliar.
Then their eyes landed on it. They almost darted past it but they returned to it quickly and stayed there. A camera. They wished they could press further into the bed frame and wall behind them. They stayed there, watching it for a long, long moment before they moved. Rushing to the bathroom, dipping behind that slight wall, right next to the toilet. With their body against the cold wall, they looked back, confirming that they couldn’t be seen by camera from that position. They took a shaky breath in, letting themselves feel all the things around them in that moment. The cold wall, the warm clothes, the hard floor, the weight of their hair as it spilled messily over their shoulders.
In the few more moments they have before door opens and their solitude disturbed, they looked around the room. The bathroom first and then back out into the main room. Their eyes lingering on each thing they could see. Bed, bedside table with a drawer, rug, lamp, glass of something– presumably water. They didn’t know what to make of all this. The room, it’s contents, how they had gotten here. But they weren’t alone much longer, poking their head around wall when they heard door open.
–––––––
Still unsure of everything, they felt they had no choice but to cooperate when told that they needed to be interviewed before they could see the others, and presumably before they could go home. They tugged at the sweater they were wearing, pulling sleeves over their hands, as they stood hesitantly on edge of main room and bathroom. As they fiddled with their sleeves they realised that ratty friendship bracelet had been removed. They wouldn’t have taken it off. They knew that. Silently they looked to the camera again, and then back to Alex again. Moving towards the door when they were invited to. Or instructed to was probably more accurate.
interview.
1. What is your name?
They don’t answer. They hadn’t said a word besides their one question to Officer Harker. They look from the interviewers, to the camera, to the interviewers again. An undeniable nervousness, or fear encompassing them.
2. How old are you?
They don’t answer. They feel their heart thumping in their chest.
3. Where are you from?
They don’t answer. The tips of their fingers feel numb, they hold onto their sleeves to try and soothe the tingling feeling.
4. What is your nationality?
They don’t answer. Their fingers trace their wrist, remembering the missing bracelet. The missing thread. Tether, even.
5. Do you go to school? What school do you attend?
They don’t answer. They look to the camera again. Why was it being recorded, why were they being interviewed, why did it matter what fucking school they went to?
6. How do you know these girls? Did you know them prior to this retreat?
They don’t answer. They look back to the interviewers. FBI and trauma psychologist.
7. What is the Dawn of Eve retreat?
They don’t answer. They feel their heart beating, they feel that choking feeling of fear in their throat.
8. How did you hear about the Dawn of Eve retreat?
They don’t answer. Where were the others? Why were they alone? Where was Shane? Why were they being recorded?
9. What is your reason for attending the Dawn of Eve retreat?
They don’t answer. Their chest rises and falls as their breathing becomes more and more panicked.
10. How long was the retreat supposed to be?
They don’t answer.
( actual answers in case they are actually needed for something )
“Hello,” the one in the suit greets. “Thank you for joining us. We just have a few questions for you.” The men introduce themselves. The one in the suit is Agent David Wilkes, FBI. A stoic and authoritative – though not unkind – professional from the looks of things. The man in the sweater is Dr. Parker Hessman. He doesn’t appear very threatening with his thick-rimmed glasses but he’s a trauma psychologist and it’s never good when one of those are around.
“We’ll start off easy,” Agent Wilkes begins. “Just some preliminary questions as we don’t want to overwhelm you. Let’s begin shall we?”
( stealing gray’s formatting bc i really liked it ily gray )
prelude.
When Erin first wakes she feels heavy. And for a moment, it’s all she can feel. Like all her limbs and her body were weighed down and her mind was waiting for them to catch up. She knows the feeling. That dull heaviness, and the patchiness in her memory were hauntingly familiar. Only she wasn’t in her sister’s bed. She didn’t smell like booze and sweat and vomit.
She felt a little startled when door opened, sitting up quickly in the bed as she didn’t know what to expect to follow the sound. For half a moment she expected her parents. For another half a moment she expected Joss, or Halima. But no. None of those. And she tried to hide her disappointment in the face of scrubbed up stranger and soon following Officer Harker. She didn’t know what to make of it. She was supposed to be home by now, right? That was– that was what she had been working for. For her, and all the others to get home. “ Thank you, ” She thanked the person who left the tray, surprised by how hoarse her voice sounded. But when Alex explained that she had been passed out for over a day, that explained the hoarse voice. Though not the groggy feeling. Maybe you agreed to a valium or something. She tried to ease herself as Alex spoke and she lifted bowl of soup gingerly to her lips.
“ Where are the others? ” She asked once there was enough of a lull in her explanation. And again, the answer made sense but Erin didn’t find herself desperate for privacy in this moment. She’d rather see them. Know they were okay. But Alex reassures her that she’ll see them soon, and she believes her. She’s trusted Alex, she still did. And, even though she hadn’t been all successful in her attempt to help on the boat, the fact that Alex had asked her had to mean she trusted Erin to some degree as well, right? She nodded, showing she understood. She wanted to ask what the interviews were about, but maybe she could ask the interviewers. Maybe, just maybe, if she did a good enough job, then she’d get the answers she wanted.
interview.
1. What is your name?
Hadn’t she already given this information? She wondered for a moment, but not long enough for there to be a pause between their question and her speaking, “ Full name? ” She asked, allowing a beat for confirmation before she answered. “ Erin Kate Walsh. ” Maybe it was something about Officer Harker being Coast Guard and Agent Wilkes being FBI that meant they had to get the information again.
2. How old are you?
“ I’m eighteen. ” Her birthday had been the week before the flight. She had been eighteen for nearly a month and almost all of it had been on that island. Not the ideal way to start off adulthood, she thought.
3. Where are you from?
Another question she had answered before, but once again she didn’t hesitate to provide it. “ Stockton, California. ” And she would give just about anything to be there again. Anything to pull up to number 5722 Turtle Valley Drive and just be home. “ United States, obviously. ” She added with an awkward chuckle.
4. What is your nationality?
" American. ” Though, not like she could prove it. Besides her accent, she supposed.
5. Do you go to school? What school do you attend?
“ Mmhmm, ” She nodded her head, happy to talk about about her school even if it did feel a little out of place. “ Ronald E. McNair High School in Stockton. ” Named after an astronaut, she always thought that was sort of cool. As long as you didn’t think about how said astronaut died in an explosion. “ I’m a senior and I’m hoping to go to Berkeley in the fall. ”
6. How do you know these girls? Did you know them prior to this retreat?
Her brows furrowed a little. What a question, huh. At least the second question was easier to answer. She shook her head. “ No, I didn’t know any of them. ” Well– “ I’d met Grace once before the flight but, like, I didn’t know her name even, you know? ” She felt nervous suddenly, feeling the risk of an FBI agent and trauma psychologist know she had partaken in underage drinking holding her tight. “ Everyone else I met on the flight to Hawaii. ”
7. What is the Dawn of Eve retreat?
It seemed the moment the retreat was brought into it and everything that had occurred because of the retreat, that’s where Erin started to fumble. She didn’t read much into it, far too busy trying to come up with a good answer. The right answer. “ Um, it’s like, this feminism retreat. Like, kind of relaxing together and bonding and doing fun stuff in Hawaii. And learning together too. Kinda like a wellness thing. ” She answered, going with what she had thought the retreat was going to be, even if her and Jude’s words nagged in her mind. That sort of attitude she had about the whole thing. Like it was a punishment.
8. How did you hear about the Dawn of Eve retreat?
“ My mom heard about it through a friend, I’m pretty sure. ” She answered, nodding her head a little. At least that was what her mom had told her, that Kylie had told her about it. But it also wouldn’t shock Erin if her mom had been feverishly researching feminist wellness retreats for teenage girls. “ She does a lot of, like, that wellness stuff, you know? Healthy mind, healthy body, healthy heart. I think she wanted to go herself, honestly. ” She chuckled lightly, fondly remembering the way her mom had gushed over the brochure once Erin had agreed to go.
9. What is your reason for attending the Dawn of Eve retreat?
Oh. That’s the first question she’s hesitating to answer simply because she doesn’t want to say. She knows the answer, she knows it’s the right answer. But was it anyone’s business? “ Um, ” She scratched lightly at her arm, looking down at the unfamiliar fabric realising suddenly that she had a different shirt on now than she did the last twenty days. “ I just, like, wasn’t really– um, I wasn’t really myself, I guess. ” To a point where it was noticeable to her mom’s friends, apparently. She fiddled with the fabric of the sleeve a moment longer before she looked back up, offering a quick shrug. “ My mom thought it would be, like, good for me to have a break, I think. Meet some new people. A sort of refresh, I think. ” And in a weird way, she had gotten all those things. A break. Met some new people. And a sort of refresh. “ I was really excited for it. ” She added, not sure if that mattered but she didn’t really want to talk badly about anyone or anything to these officials.
10. How long was the retreat supposed to be?
" A weekend. Back in time for school on Monday. ” That had been something her mom had to assure her of before she even considered going.
“Thank you for letting us speak with you today,” Dr. Hessman says. He finally puts down the pen he’s been using to write notes with the whole time. “We’re just trying to paint a picture of what’s going on here and your answers have been most helpful. We’ll see each other again soon.”
aftermath.
And just like that it’s over. Her mouth parts to ask what the interview was about, what the others had said, would there be more, when would she see them again, when would she see her family again. But none of that comes out. “ Okay, sure. ” She says instead, offering small pursed smile with it. Feeling gentle hand on her shoulder, she looks up to see the person that escorted her to the room in the first place. She starts to stand, but as she does she looks back to the two men and says “ It was nice to meet you both, ” Before she turns away and allows herself to be led out of the room.
And though she can feel her heart racing, she holds the emotions back as she walks back through the halls. Her head turning curiously each time they passed another hallway, looking for some sign of the others. But nothing. Her features formed a small frown until she planted friendly smile as she was let back into the room she had woken in. Her room, she supposed. She turned and stood awkwardly as she watched the door close. She let go of the breath she’d been holding once it did. Maybe she was grateful for the privacy she thought as she turned around in the room again. Taking the room in properly now. Maybe she was lying to herself to make herself feel better but she didn’t think it was all that horrible. It wasn’t home. But it wasn’t the island. After a second of moving around, observing the room, she needed to find something else to distract herself. She didn’t want to think about that groggy feeling, or the reason her mother and her friends were so worried about her they suggested the Dawn of Eve trip. It only took her a moment to find notepad. She tore herself a page as she settled on the bed again, crossing her legs as she started methodically folding the paper, trying to remember how to make a star or a heart shaped ring or a penguin or anything at all.
The interview room isn’t the most inviting. It’s cold. There’s cement everywhere you look. A metal table is situated in the center of the room. There’s a single chair on one side of it – the side closest to the door. On the other side, two men are sat next to each other waiting for you. One is in a pressed suit. The other in a thick sweater.
“Hello,” the one in the suit greets. “Thank you for joining us. We just have a few questions for you.” The men introduce themselves. The one in the suit is Agent David Wilkes, FBI. A stoic and authoritative – though not unkind – professional from the looks of things. The man in the sweater is Dr. Parker Hessman. He doesn’t appear very threatening with his thick-rimmed glasses but he’s a trauma psychologist and it’s never good when one of those are around.
“We’ll start off easy,” Agent Wilkes begins. “Just some preliminary questions as we don’t want to overwhelm you. Let’s begin shall we?”
PRELUDE
The first thing Halima noticed when she woke up again was that her brace was off. Had it been off before? She held her hand above her head and turned it over as she blinked groggily. She slowly bent her thumb and watched the movement through blurry eyes. It felt tender, and she bared her teeth in a short wince, but it worked. She dropped her arm back by her side and breathed. The feeling came suddenly, hot and searing as it ballooned in her chest, and she pushed herself into a sitting position with stiff limbs. Her head felt heavy, the kind of muzziness that came from a too-long nap or too little water. Bile rose to the back of her throat, she bent her thumb into a fist and leaned forward to punch the end of the bed. The springs squeaked; it didn’t fight back. It wasn’t nearly as satisfying as she hoped.
Take two: in another act of defiance, she turned to press the heel of her foot against the nightstand and pushed. It didn’t move. It looked nailed to the ground, so she did the next best thing she could think of and knocked the glass of water off the top like a petulant cat. It clattered loudly then rolled across the floor, before the nature of its shape sent it rolling back and under the bed. The fluorescent lights flickered brokenly in the water’s reflection, and Halima suddenly took note of the tackiness in her mouth. She ran her tongue against the back of her teeth, then spit in the puddle. She didn’t have to clean up shit.
When she heard the door open again, it took everything in her not to hiss and spit (again) like a pissed off animal. Interviews? She’d mostly forgotten almost everything Officer What’s-Her-Face had told her, too busy grinding her teeth to dust to hear over it. But she remembered at least one thing clearly: the rest of the Eves were kept in other rooms, probably not far from this one. If anything, totally in the same corridor. Any one of them could be just beyond the wall to Halima’s left. So she just managed to resist the urge to scowl, and made her mouth form a sort of smile if her eyes had been able to reflect one at all. With a careless gesture toward the floor, she got to her feet.
“I’m not cleaning that,” she announced simply, then followed the interviewers out the door.
---
1. What is your name?
“Halima,” she answered shortly, offended by the assumption that she’d get ‘overwhelmed’ by whatever the two suits would throw at her. She hated their tone already. It reminded her of Basisschool, group 3, and her teacher Dhr. Van Dijk. He had a too-wide smile, round glasses, an air of smug superiority that came from anyone who thought they had any real power and ability to shape the next generation to their liking. Whether or not the two men in front of her were anything like him didn’t actually matter; she made up her mind. She couldn’t stand them on sight.
2. How old are you?
She curled her lip at the question. “Viezerik,” she said with a sarcastic smile and leaned back in her chair. She owed them English about as much as she owed them her time, which was that she didn’t owe them anything. So fuck it: it had been a while since she’d been able to speak the way she wanted to, her brain exhausted from thinking a thing, then thinking a translation of it over and over again. She would embrace the opportunity; their frustrations be damned. “Ik ben achttien, maar ik zal je niet neuken.”
3. Where are you from?
“Dit is een lastige,” Halima started, then hummed. “Is Nederlands spreken niet vanzelfsprekend genoeg?” She liked to forget about Belgium most of the time, and this time she did so for sarcasm’s sake.
4. What is your nationality?
She scoffed with a roll of her eyes. “Heb je het niet gewoon gevraagd? Of is dit een van die racistische vervolgvragen? Waar kom je echt vandaan?”
5. Do you go to school? What school do you attend?
“Je ziet eruit alsof je van boeken van Haruki Murakami houdt,” Halima started, pointing to the man in glasses. “Ik wed dat je dol bent op 'dit jailbait-meisje heeft zulke kleine en mooie oren. Haar borsten zijn ook zo klein en mooi... Ik heb een vrouw.’'' She raised an eyebrow. "‘Maar ik denk dat ik haar naar deze hotelkamer zal brengen en haar zal dwingen naar wat jazz te luisteren.’” She leaned forward and tapped the fingers of her right hand on the metal table. “Zei hij niet een keer iets over het niet leren van belangrijke dingen op school?”
6. How do you know these girls? Did you know them prior to this retreat?
“Ik ken ze niet. Heb ze nooit ontmoet. Wat maakt jou dat uit?”
7. What is the Dawn of Eve retreat?
“Een filosofie, een beweging, een manier van leven…” She bared her teeth in a shark-like smile. “Heb je ooit gehoord van 'verpletter het patriarchaat'? Omdat ik denk dat jouw kont daar ook bij hoort.”
8. How did you hear about the Dawn of Eve retreat?
“Jouw moeder.”
9. What is your reason for attending the Dawn of Eve retreat?
“Mijn moeder.”
10. How long was the retreat supposed to be?
“In principe twee dagen. Is dat niet grappig?” She didn’t laugh.
---
“Thank you for letting us speak with you today,” Dr. Hessman says. He finally puts down the pen he’s been using to write notes with the whole time. “We’re just trying to paint a picture of what’s going on here and your answers have been most helpful. We’ll see each other again soon.”
---
AFTERMATH
Halima’s eyes darted between the two faces and the open notebooks in front of them. That was it? Like when her fist made contact with the microfiber sheets and came up with nothing, she felt a moment’s pause. She let out a tch sound and ensured the chair scraped loudly against the floor as she pushed away from the table.
“Ga jezelf neuken,” she said happily and allowed herself to be led back out of the room.
She counted the doors they passed as she went: one, two, three, four... Some of them had to be rooms like hers. And there had to be enough for at least a handful of the Eves near her. Maybe not all, but some. Maybe Erin, or even Izzy. The latter would probably be out of her mind by now if her trajectory back on the beach stayed the same so her walls were probably padded, but still. That was something to consider. Halima directed a quick salute-turned-middle-finger to the muscle who brought her back and kicked the door as soon as it was shut in her face. It didn’t give her much satisfaction, but it did equip her with a sore toe.
Her shoulders slumped, taking the false arrogance with them.
She tried not to panic. She pressed her lips together and tasted blood. Halima couldn’t remember when she bit them. She wanted to tear the room apart, so she pulled the sheets off the bed and threw the pillows toward the camera that watched her. The magazine in the drawer was clumsily torn; she gave herself a papercut on her pinky in the process. The smallest trail of blood slipped down the side of her hand.
A new glass of water sat on her bedside table. The floor was dry.
They couldn’t keep her here.
---
TRANSLATIONS:
1 → Basisschool = Elementary school
2 → “Pervert”, “I’m eighteen but I’m not going to fuck you”
3 → “This is a tricky one. Is speaking Dutch not obvious enough?”
4 → “Didn't you basically just ask this? Or is this one of those racist follow-up questions? Where are you really from?”
5 → “You look like you like books by Haruki Murakami”, “I bet you love the whole 'this jailbait girl has such small and beautiful ears. Her breasts are also so small and beautiful... I have a wife, but I think I'll take her to this hotel room and force her to listen to some jazz’”, “Didn't he once say something about not learning important things in school?”
6 → “I don’t know them. Never met them. What does that matter to you?”
7 → “A philosophy, a movement, a way of life…”, “Have you ever heard of 'crush the patriarchy'? Because I think that includes your ass”
shane sat across from the men for a second time. she’s told that it is the next day, but she doesn’t believe them. this whole experience reminded her of when she was in the hospital and how she had to trust everything the doctors were telling her, only this time, she knew these people didn’t have her best interest in mind.
after the last time they spoke, or well, when the men spoke and shane stared at them saying nothing until she was ushered away; shane didn’t sleep, it was easy not to, she was used to it after 20 days on an island where she maybe slept 20 hours that whole time. but she spent the whole time switching between staring at the camera and trying to sort out everything going on in her mind.
now back in the room, shane sat listening to their lies about how this whole thing happened because the flight numbers were mixed up or some bullshit that shane knew was a lie. nothing as serious as planes flight numbers would be messed up like that, not with america’s insane obsession with airline security. so as they moved on to try and get something out of her, shane just crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back in her chair, staring at the men.
How many were you on the plane exactly? What was it like inside of it?
silence. if she was honest, she didn’t remember much of the plane. it was nice because there weren’t babies or asshole karens on it like normal planes, but she wasn’t that focused on the plane itself. she could assume that it was just the 20 eves, the pilot, and one or two flight attendants, but she wasn’t paying attention.
Do you recall if there was anything suspicious on the plane?
silence. there was nothing suspicious about the plane, it was everything that came after that was suspicious.
Did anyone look or act suspicious on the plane?
silence. shane wondered why they were taking this direction. did they know she was suspicious of things and they were trying to turn her attention to the plane or the pilot?
How long were you in the air for before the plane started to malfunction?
silence. shane was too high to know how much time had passed.
To your best capability, can you recollect the moment before the plane crashed?
silence. she’s talked about with a few of the other eves and the consensus was, no, no one could recall the moment before the crash. just the tip of the iceberg of suspicious things that had happened.
What is the first thing you remember after waking up?
silence. sand, lots and lots of sand.
Did you have any significant injuries from the crash?
silence. yet another thing the eves agreed on, no one was seriously hurt during the crash despite where they supposedly went through. jill may have died but that was after the crash.
Who was around you when you woke up?
silence. this one made shane flinch ever so slightly, just enough that her hand tightened where it was gripping her shirt, hidden behind her crossed arms. joss.
How long did it take for you to find the others from your flight? We were told that there was a pilot and flight attendant with all of you on the plane. You didn’t manage to find them?
silence. shane still remembers how she went around and found the others, trying to gather up the ones she saw and brought them to what they had called camp those first few nights. none of the adult adults from the plane could be found. but shane was more concerned by the way they phrased that. her eyes narrowed as she stared at them. they were told. does that mean one of the eves was talking? she wondered who it could be. probably erin, maybe joss. a couple of the others probably. she trusted jenny not to talk, and even jude for the most part. shane made a mental note to think about that when she was back in her room, suss out which of the others are probably giving everything away like it was nothing.
What happened your first day on the island?
silence. so much happened that first day, so much that it felt like it all blurred together. joss woke her up first. they searched the water for anything from the plane and found the raft. shane’s mind lingered on the memory of how proud they felt pulling it to shore. how they touched fists in celebration. how she didn’t realize it at the time but shane had just met her best friend. she wondered if that statement was true after everything. she tried to push that thought away, another thing she can overanalyze back in her room. she remembered looking for the others, finding a few and leading them to where she and joss had decided to leave the raft and call camp. she remembered how they all tried to pretend this fucked up thing didn’t just happen and how they tried to play a silly little game to distract themselves. she remembered how jill had dropped to the sand. the eves gathering around and how shane was the only one willing to touch her, to check her pulse, to try cpr on her. maybe someone else like erin would have stepped forward eventually, but shane was the only one who didn’t freeze. but when it wasn’t enough, shane remembered how having to move jill’s lifeless body with the help of joss. she remembers how she couldn’t sleep that night, how she found someone else who couldn’t sleep. how she stayed up that first night and nearly every night since with jenny by her side and how they would spend the nights talking about anything and everything. shane wondered where they were now, if they were safe, if they were okay without her. she could assume the answers to the last two questions, and they were both no. would she ever see them again? would they get out of here and be able to be together? would shane be able to tell them that she loves them?
but shane doesn’t say any of this. she stays silent, like she did the day before. she just stares at the men with her arms crossed over her chest.
“Thank you for joining us again today. We know you have a lot of questions,” Agent Wilkes says once you’re seated. “We weren’t the most forthcoming regarding the details of your circumstance yesterday and we intend on clearing those up today. We just needed some time to get all of the details in order. I believe once you're aware of what we’ve found, you’ll understand why we’ve been so... reserved.” Agent Wilkes has his own folder and he opens that up and takes a look at the papers inside of it before speaking again.
prelude.
jude didn’t do so well with being bored. she paced. she hid from the camera in the corner of the bathroom. she wrote on the walls. she didn’t sleep at all. she started missing things more than she’d liked to admit. that’s what boredom did - she had nothing, and missed everything, and wanted to do something besides stare at the ceiling. even in the middle of her anger and suspicion and fear, she had enough free time to miss things.
she missed drugs and hockey and skating and the drums and driving. she missed fighting and music and having sex. she missed 7-11 and drinking. she missed the others. she missed her mom.
she juggled with pages she tore out of that stupid magazine. she drew intricate murals of stick figure violence and beautifully calligraphed curse words on the walls. she colored her nails with the marker. she tried to slap morse code into the walls just in case someone was roomed next to her, but she didn’t know morse code, and she wasn’t sure if any of the others did, so it was just nonsense. she tried to ignore the pounding in her chest. she felt more combative than ever.
they led her to the interview room as she maintained a distance like a feral animal, growling at animal control. she fucking hated these guys. she hated it here. it was like jail - “you can’t just fucking keep me here, i’ll fuck you up!” she had announced earlier in the day to one unsuspecting scrubbed-up people that brought her jello or whatever.
they started talking at her, giving jude all of this information that she had to pretend to be smart enough to comprehend, nodding as she tried to piece it together, cursing the fact that she wasn’t born any fucking smarter. jesus christ. and it’s not like she even knew at this point what to believe. something was wrong, and she didn’t know if these people had anything to do with it, but she distrusted them on principal, though she was pretty sure she’d never feel safe or secure again, so whatever, right? maybe these people were involved with whatever fucked up thing that had happened to them. maybe they weren’t, and had just presumably drugged jude and the others and kept them trapped here for fun. did it even matter now?
they were giving her these letters and numbers, and she chewed on her lip, processing very little - only that someone had fucked up, right? wrote it down all wrong, maybe, or whatever, so nobody actually searched for them, even though they should have. maybe it was a lie, or maybe it was the truth.
“a waste of resources?” jude repeated incredulously. “a waste of fucking resources? a bunch of fucking people died. if i kill you guys both is that just no big deal, then? no security guards gonna come in, that’s a waste of resources? you know, i bet the security guards fucking hate you, too. i mean, you’re british, and look at you! you’re wearing a fucking bowtie! someone’s so gonna fucking sue. you guys probably weren’t even involved but someone’s gonna ruin your fucking lives, too. probably one of the rich ones. they’ve got fucking lawyers, right? they’ll fuck you up,” she threatened.
interview.
how many of you were on the plane? what was it like inside?
“i don’t know,” jude answered. “all of us. some other people. pilot. i don’t know the exact numbers,” she said mulishly. this was an honest answer. if she had counted ( and she probably hadn’t ), she wouldn’t remember the number now. “it was a plane, i don’t know. private, a little airline charter or whatever. those are fucking dangerous as fuck. they are.” her mom was on a flight with a total of 12 people when she’d crashed.
do you recall if there was anything suspicious on the plane?
jude scoffed. “no. it was just a fucking plane. i mean - i knew something was fucking wrong. but, whatever, it was just a fucking plane.” jude had been on guard from the beginning; it was a tiny little plane going over the ocean, and something terrible was going to happen. but that wasn’t because she was psychic, or some ace detective - she’d just seen it happen before. she just knew.
did anyone look or act suspicious in the plane?
“jesus christ, no. i mean, we were supposed to be going to hawaii.” she’d noticed in passing that the other eves were all super attractive, but that was the extent of her observations. she’d been hungover. she’d been high. she’d been sure she was going to die. none of it had mattered.
how long were you in the air before the plane started to malfunction?
“i don’t know. long enough for me to get high. i can’t remember if that’s illegal or not. i mean, it probably is. i don’t know. i didn’t check, i didn’t, like, read the rules. i know plenty about planes, plenty about plane crashes, but i didn’t read the rules. think that’s why we crashed?” she challenged, arms crossed, rambling, antagonistic. “that? or ‘cause we didn’t all put our phones on airplane mode, or something? i don’t have any idea what the fuck all of that is even about, actually. i bet you do,” she said, and pointed to dr. hessman. “you look like you know a bunch of useless shit like that.”
to the best of your ability, do you remember the moments before the plane crash?
“nobody does. you probably know that, right? that’s, like, super fucked up. i mean, i remember the lights going out. some people screamed, i think. you know how in high school, when the power flickers, everyone screams like it’s the end of the fucking world? it was like that. but i won’t say it’s dramatic, ‘cause clearly it fucking wasn’t. and if you’re gonna die, or whatever, and screaming is what you wanna do, then fine, whatever. me, i just took a hit off my pen, but that’s me. what about you, huh? say you’re about to die. last thing you wanna do?” it was kind of a threat. not really, but, like, a little bit.
she had been calm. she had been strangely calm, because at the first sign of turbulence, she’d thought, i was right. of course. i’m going to die, just like mom. and the thought hadn’t really bothered her much at all. she had been so calm, like she’d known it was all going to happen. but the actual right before part, as they plummeted to the ocean? fucking blank.
what’s the first thing you remember after waking up?
“i laughed,” she admitted, shoving a hand through her hair. she had woken up, sand in her mouth, looked around, and laughed. “i thought maybe i was in hell, or something. i mean, i’m not, like, religious. but it was very, like, english class, full circle, poetic justice, or some gay shit like that.” she’d looked around and laughed hysterically, like it was all so fucking ridiculous, and she’d pretty much laughed like that until jill. and then, when jude saw that, and realized what had happened, and realized that someone was dead ( and realized that her mom was dead all over again ), she stopped laughing, and backed away, and she didn’t say another thing for a couple of days. she could be so fucking useless sometimes. people told her so all of the time, and they were right. she was so good for nothing sometimes. all of the time. so, how come she was still alive? ( if laughing was the first thing she remembered from the island, then that was the last: thinking she was no big loss. thinking she was going to die, but it was okay ).
did you have any significant injuries from the crash?
she shrugged, shook her head, scrubbed a hand over her face. she’d been injured when she’d woken, but how could she be expected to remember what had caused which pain now? the bruises, the cuts, the swelling, the split lip, the aching in her ribs - it could have been her fight at school, the plane crash, her uncle. “i’m here now, aren’t i? couldn’t have been that significant.” she was tough. she could take a lot. physically, she could take a lot. she prided herself on that. she comforted herself with that. “i’ve got a lot of fucking endurance.” that’s all it ever was: an endurance test. sharp pain in the jaw. one giant wound.
who was around you when you woke up?
“i don’t know,” jude said, and she felt like she was repeating the same fucking thing over and over. she hadn’t been paying attention. she hadn’t been paying enough attention, and now she had no fucking answers, but it was all bullshit, anyways, right? they probably knew all of this stuff already, right? or if they didn’t, they didn’t need to. anyways, someone else was bound to give these guys a full fucking map of who was where and when, knowing them. maybe bev or joss. “you’ve talked to the others, right? i bet i’m not your first choice to bring out here. i mean, i’m not plan A, or whatever. so, you’ve talked to them, huh? what’d they say? you probably don’t even need to talk to me. i mean, clearly i’m no fucking use to you, anyways. and you can’t keep me here forever. you can kill me if you want, or you can let me go, but you can’t keep me here. you can’t keep the others, either.” she wanted to know if they were okay, though they probably weren’t. she wanted to see them, though she wasn’t sure if they wanted to see her, and even if they did, whether they’d be allowed to see each other was a completely different question.
how long did it take you to find the others from your flight? we were told there was a pilot and a flight attendant with you all on the flight. you didn’t manage to find them?
she barely remembered the first couple of days after jill died. even jill dying was fuzzy, though she remembered the way she’d shut down. there was a lot she didn’t remember - that’s maybe why it didn’t seem suspicious that she remembered so little of the plane crash until the others confided that they also had a blank spot there. she was used to bits of her memory being gone entirely. used to doing things she couldn’t recall. especially since her mom had died, there were entire weekends missing from her memory. so, no, it wasn’t clear to her, the process of finding the others, or how long it took. she just shrugged, tired of saying i don’t know. she kind of scoffed at the question of whether they’d ‘managed’ to find the pilot and flight attendant. “no. did you?”
what happened on your first day on the island?
good fucking question. well, she didn’t remember the details, but she knew the highlights: “somebody fucking died. what’d you do with her fucking body? and odessa’s? where the fuck are their bodies? and, jesus, seriously, where IS your fucking bitcoin man, guys?”
“Hello,” the one in the suit greets. “Thank you for joining us. We just have a few questions for you.” The men introduce themselves. The one in the suit is Agent David Wilkes, FBI. A stoic and authoritative – though not unkind – professional from the looks of things. The man in the sweater is Dr. Parker Hessman. He doesn’t appear very threatening with his thick-rimmed glasses but he’s a trauma psychologist and it’s never good when one of those are around.
“We’ll start off easy,” Agent Wilkes begins. “Just some preliminary questions as we don’t want to overwhelm you. Let’s begin shall we?”
clarke sat across from the two men in front of her, eyes darting around nervously, not sure if she should look at them or the table in front of them. she felt like she was in trouble even though this was her being rescued. why did she feel that way? hearing the one man say they had some questions, clarke looked up and gave a small nod.
1. What is your name?
she didn’t hesitate when the questions come, assuming it would only help her if she cooperated. “clarke walling.”
2. How old are you?
"18, almost 19.”
3. Where are you from?
"bristol.”
4. What is your nationality?
"british.”
5. Do you go to school? What school do you attend?
*insert a school name that mun is too lazy to google all that for. idk how schools work over there*
6. How do you know these girls? Did you know them prior to this retreat?
"no, we met on the plane. we were all going to the dawn of eve retreat.”
7. What is the Dawn of Eve retreat?
“it was a feminist retreat, it was going to empower us or something. to help us bond with others.”
8. How did you hear about the Dawn of Eve retreat?
"my parents.”
9. What is your reason for attending the Dawn of Eve retreat?
“my brother and i got into some trouble and our parents thought the retreat would help us.” she hoped they wouldn’t ask the full story. she hadn’t even told any of the eves why exactly she was sent to the retreat.
10. How long was the retreat supposed to be?
"just a weekend i believe.”
“Thank you for letting us speak with you today,” Dr. Hessman says. He finally puts down the pen he’s been using to write notes with the whole time. “We’re just trying to paint a picture of what’s going on here and your answers have been most helpful. We’ll see each other again soon.”
“thank you, i’m happy to help,” clarke said with a smile.
It’s a new day ( or so you’re told ) and you’re brought in for another interview. Agent Wilkes and Dr. Hessman are sat waiting for you on the other side of the table like the day before. “Hello again,” Agent Wilkes greets. Dr. Hessman smiles at you and nods his head instead of saying anything. His notepad is out though and there’s a folder tucked beneath it. You wonder what’s inside.
“Thank you for joining us again today. We know you have a lot of questions,” Agent Wilkes says once you’re seated. “We weren’t the most forthcoming regarding the details of your circumstance yesterday and we intend on clearing those up today. We just needed some time to get all of the details in order. I believe once you're aware of what we’ve found, you’ll understand why we’ve been so... reserved.” Agent Wilkes has his own folder and he opens that up and takes a look at the papers inside of it before speaking again ...
( stealing gray’s formatting again <3 )
prelude.
Erin didn’t sleep well. How could she? But she was better off than many of the others in that she was able to get a few restless hours at all. Mostly she’d stared at the dark walls and waited for time to pass. Waited for the next meal, for the next human interaction– each time convincing herself that next time she would build up the courage to ask about the others again, that she would ask to see them, that she would be firm footed. But she didn’t. She just lost that confidence so quickly when faced with yet another stone faced stranger.
She was sitting on the rug, cross legged again as she faced the empty glass she had put a couple feet away from herself. Folded stars and hearts scattered in the space between, a couple gathered at the bottom of the empty glass, evidence of a game she had made for herself. As the door opened she was in the middle of humming the chorus of Morning Train, thinking of her sister, as she tossed another small paper star across the room. She looked up immediately, her humming stopped along with her little game. She stood, easily following them out of the room as instructed to, though feeling a little bad for the mess she had left in the room
––––––––
The information she was given by Agent Wilkes and Doctor Hessman was .... a lot. To say the least. She sat and listened, and nodded her head to show she understood, even if she didn’t totally and she had about a million more new questions because of the new information. She felt certain she hadn’t gotten the flight number wrong when she told Officer Harker, she felt absolutely certain. And she thought the whole cargo plane thing was a little bizarre. And not to mention the explanation given as to why no one was looking for them. In a way she couldn’t describe it felt like each point was breaking down everything she thought she knew about that flight and about the Dawn of Eve. But since she wouldn’t ever dare to express that to anyone, much less the authoritative figures that sat opposite her, she simple nodded again. She was ready to keep trying to help. And she was ready to keep believing she was doing the right thing, and that she would be able to see the others again if she just kept doing that.
interview.
How many were you on the plane exactly? What was it like inside of it?
A question Erin had answered before, but it wasn’t as confusing to her this time. If what they said was true, then there were a lot of moving pieces. What Erin had said on the boat probably got lost somewhere on the way. “ Twenty of us, ” Meaning the Eves but that went unspecified, “ A flight attendant, and a pilot. So twenty two. ”
Do you recall if there was anything suspicious on the plane?
Her brows furrowed a little. Part in thought, part in confusion. But after a moment she answered all the same. “ No, I don’t think so. ” She shook her head.
Did anyone look or act suspicious on the plane?
This time she didn’t think on it, she didn’t have to. She shook her head again. “ No, no one. ” Had the time between crash and rescue been shorter, had she not had the opportunity to develop the connection she did to the others then maybe she would have said something. Something about some of their anti-social behaviour, or the amount of trips some of them took to the bathroom, or anything along those lines. But she didn’t believe any of them to be suspicious, not after what they had been through together.
How long were you in the air for before the plane started to malfunction?
" Um, ” She trails off as she thinks on it for a moment. She realises where this line of questioning is going maybe a few questions late. And the idea of having to recall that traumatic event makes her stomach tighten and she has to resist the urge to scratch the itch at the collar of her shirt. “ Maybe an hour? ” She said after a moment, her eyes returning to the interviewers. " Or a little more. I don’t really remember, sorry. ” She also hadn’t thought to check her watch when she thought she was about to die.
To your best capability, can you recollect the moment before the plane crashed?
In a way, her answer is yes. Yes, she can. She could remember everything clearly before the plane started to fall. But in other ways her answer was no. Because once it did begin to fall, everything went foggy. “ Not really. ” She answered honestly, taking a small second to think on her words before she continued. “ I remember when it started, like, the turbulence and that first sort of drop feeling. ” And she felt it again then in her stomach as she spoke. “ But then not a lot after that. The others got the black box, and they said the flight recording said we all passed out. So that’s, like, probably why I don’t remember. ” She tried to explain, but she also didn’t feel especially eager to explain that herself and Joss had missed its playing.
What is the first thing you remember after waking up?
Water. Endless, endless water. She could still see it now if she closed her eyes. She wondered if she would ever feel the same way about the beach as she had before all of this. “ I remember waking up in the water. I was on a piece of debris and I was just– ” She paused, feeling emotion bubble as she remembered that feeling or total despair that had hit her. She swallowed and cleared her throat, taking a breath before she continued. “ I just thought I was alone. I couldn’t see anyone else, for a moment it was like I couldn’t see anything at all. Just water. ” Until she saw the island. And until she saw Jenny.
Did you have any significant injuries from the crash?
She shook her head. For the scene she woke up to, she was shockingly fine. Not something she had ever thought about on the island. “ I didn’t, no. ”
Who was around you when you woke up?
" No one, at first, but then I heard someone calling for help near me and it was Jenny ... ” She trailed off, looking down as she realised in that moment that she didn’t know Jenny’s last name. Nor did she know anyone besides Jill’s and Jude’s, she didn’t think. “ Sorry, I don’t know their last name but I– ” She hesitated slightly as she looked back up to them, “ I mean, I assume you’ve talked to them as well as everyone else. ”
How long did it take for you to find the others from your flight? We were told that there was a pilot and flight attendant with all of you on the plane. You didn’t manage to find them?
“ Um, yeah, that’s true. We never found them. ” She answered that part of the question first, seeing as again it was information she had already told Officer Harker. “ The pilot’s bag washed up a couple days in, but that was all we ever saw of them after the crash. ” It was horrible to think about, that they were just out in the ocean somewhere. Probably eaten by sealife. Never going to see their families again. Horrible. “ But, like I said, I saw Jenny in the water and then we saw the island and we swam for it. When we got to land we were exhausted, you know, but we found some others quickly enough. Maybe ... 20 minutes? Half an hour? After we got to land, I think. ”
What happened your first day on the island?
" A lot, um, ” She answered first, giving herself a brief second to try and think back. “ It was a lot of walking on the beach, trying to find people or anything that could help us. A bit of a camp was set up and Joss tried making a sign for help, so if any other planes flew over they would see us. And um, ” She hesitated again, finally not able to resist that itch at her collar. Uncomfortable with what she knew had to come next. How could she describe what happened to Jill? How could she possibly? She swallowed, uttering a quick “ Um, ” Before she pressed her lips together for another moment. Finally, she braved it. They were just words. “ And um, Jill passed. On that first day. She, um– ” She crinkled her nose, frustrated at her own stumbling, her own falter that meant this had to go on longer. “ She got hurt, and I think she was pretending she didn’t. And we had no idea. Then at some point, she just fell. And she was dead. ” And Erin had frozen. She hadn’t done anything. And it was yet another fucking guilt she carried with her. She crinkled her nose again, feeling her eyes grow wet. “ And Shane tried CPR but, um, yeah, she was– it was too late. We buried her up the beach a little, away from the camp we had made. ” And there was more to it, to the day. But how could she say anything else now? She wiped stubbornly at her eyes even though the tears had yet to fall, grateful that she was soon after thanked and escorted out of the room once more.
“Hello,” the one in the suit greets. “Thank you for joining us. We just have a few questions for you.” The men introduce themselves. The one in the suit is Agent David Wilkes, FBI. A stoic and authoritative – though not unkind – professional from the looks of things. The man in the sweater is Dr. Parker Hessman. He doesn’t appear very threatening with his thick-rimmed glasses but he’s a trauma psychologist and it’s never good when one of those are around.
“We’ll start off easy,” Agent Wilkes begins. “Just some preliminary questions as we don’t want to overwhelm you. Let’s begin shall we?”
shane sat across from the two men, arms crossed over her chest as she stared at them. she hadn’t said a single word since she was escorted out of her room.
1. What is your name?
silence
2. How old are you?
silence
3. Where are you from?
silence
4. What is your nationality?
silence
5. Do you go to school? What school do you attend?
silence
6. How do you know these girls? Did you know them prior to this retreat?
silence
7. What is the Dawn of Eve retreat?
silence
8. How did you hear about the Dawn of Eve retreat?
silence
9. What is your reason for attending the Dawn of Eve retreat?
