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[ season two, episode six ]
Marley reached for her hand.
A desperate cry ripped through her sandpaper throat, agonisingly painful, a futile plea for help — but the blood coating her palms like a slick layer of oil made it too hard.
The chunks of metal protruding from the storage container dug into her ribs and it made it too hard.
The echoing snarls of the monsters swarming together like an Avian flock below made it too hard.
Too hard. Too hard. Too hard.
Marley couldn't do it — the one thing she needed to do. And she just couldn't do it. She was weak. Everything was crumbling at her feet, an unbearable tremor of pain blazing through her outstretched arm, crimson blood seeping through her jacket and dripping onto the metal.
Drip, drip, drip. Drip . . . drip.
It was too hard.
Bonnie's fingers slipped away.
And with them, so did her life.
━━━━━━━━━━━
Knots. Marley combed through them with gritted teeth, adding more unprecedented vigour to the routine each time a shoot of pain radiated through her scalp. She was only making matters worse, but, in her defence, she hadn't slept too well last night. At all. Her brain decided to repeat the tragic events leading up to Bonnie's death, taunting Marley with the main source of her guilt.
From the moment she awoke, it had been playing over and over again in her head like a broken record.
Distracting herself from the surge of guilt that accompanied the flashbacks was hard, too. Harder than Marley initially assumed. Whenever she closed her eyes, all she could see was Bonnie's face. Bloodied and bruised. Inanimate. Half-torn. Soulless. Staring up at the cloudless sky, betrayed and broken.
