𝐄𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 ; 𝐙. 𝐁𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧

A Moment to Remember

𝗘𝘃𝗮𝗻𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗲𝗻𝘁; (𝚊𝚍𝚓) 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚊 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗.

After about a five minute walk, Michael Thatcher stood directly outside Cabin 5, where Ziggy Berman sat inside. Michael had second guessed going to Ziggy on his way to the cabin, but despite his thoughts, Michael thought it would be best if he paid the girl a visit, especially considering all of the new information he had acquired. With a final deep breath, he gently knocked on the door.

"Go away Cindy!" Ziggy's voice echoed through the cabin, Michael giving a silent scoff.

"It's just me. It's Michael," he shouted through the door. "Can I come in?" he questioned briefly.

"Sure, I guess," Ziggy responded, allowing Michael to quietly open the door and peak his head inside.

His jaw immediately dropped from the sight before him. Sure, he wasn't bothered by Ziggy, but around her corner of the cabin, there were bold letters painted on the walls around her. All Michael could manage was a simple 'woah.'

Ziggy looked up at Michael, their eyes meeting as the boy gently closed the door behind him. He then began to slowly approach Ziggy, his eyes meeting the wall again. "I like what you've done with the place," he said jokingly.

"This wasn't me," she simply said, leaning down towards the bucket in front of her, which Michael could only guess was paint.

"Yeah, no shit. 'Ziggy is a witch bitch.' 'Ziggy sucks cocks in Hell.' Jeez... Sheila I'm assuming?" he asked, finally letting his eyes rest on Ziggy again, after getting quite enough from the messages on the wall.

Ziggy looked up at Michael, raising a brow at him before a smirk broke through her lips. "Colonel Mustard."

Michael gave a lighthearted chuckle before he glanced down at the paint bucket, which didn't look like paint. No, it was much thinner and darker. "Looks like blood. Would make a killer movie effect, hm?"

"Didn't have a pig nearby, so you have to improvise sometimes. Doesn't look too convincing," Ziggy said with a defeated sigh, looking through all of the materials around her.

Michael almost instantly recognized the reference Ziggy had made to Stephen Kings, 'Carrie' letting a bright smile trace his lips. "I didn't know you were into Carrie. Small world, huh?" he said.

Ziggy looked up with a shocked, rather confused look on her face, her nose scrunched along with her eyebrows as she looked back up at Michael. "You've read Carrie?" she simply asked.

"Of course! Second favorite after Salem's Lot," Michael said, receiving a light chuckle and a smirk from Ziggy. "I dunno though, paint seems a little... pedestrian."

Ziggy's smile turned into a frown as her brows furrowed once more. "What, do you have a better idea? I'm working with what I've got."

"Well, maybe, but I don't want to barge in on your perfect scheme. I should be supervising that shitty Color War, but don't let me get in the way. 'Carrie' on," Michael said, turning his body to start towards the door again.