PRETTY SICK! — shot on the sunday ☆ tw: depersonalization, mention of suicide
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Peace and Angelica Bell were never meant to exist on the same plain, it was something that she worked towards — something that was meant to be attainable as she clawed her way up from the depths of hell and out of her mother's womb; she was born screaming.
Born wailing about the horrors she would endure before she'd even lived long enough to comprehend the very idea of them. She would peel back her skin at some point in her treacherous nearly-18 years of existence and finally, finally, fucking finally transcend past the very thought of peace. Because at that point, there would be nothing left for her to do besides return to her rawest form, naked and covered in blood and amniotic fluid, this time, with the knowledge of anything and everything.
There was no peace to be attained the minute Raymond Murdoch barged into her house on the fateful Friday night. There was no peace in the universe without Peter Bell. There was no Angelica Bell if he didn't exist on the same plain as her.
They were an extension of each other, yin and yang, two magnets, the tide and sand, the sun and moon — forever connected in a bond that would never be broken, one could not exist without the other. They were created in the big bang together as a pair, they were never supposed to be so forcefully ripped away from each other. Pete couldn't be dead. He couldn't. He was dead. He wasn't dead. He was dead. He wasn't dead. She played "he loves me, he loves me not" in the confines of her skull, instead using the prospect of her brother's remains rotting in some halfhearted grave as the decision petal. He wasn't dead.
But... the connection had been severed, she felt it, and Angie felt her very own being get taken with it, stolen from her by those fucking government cunts.
When she heard it, the words leave Raymond's lips, a bomb went off inside of her. It started in slow motion, a climax that she never wanted to end, because once it did — the heat melted her organs and the shrapnel started to tear away at her flesh, it lodged in her bones and the pain was unbearable. She wanted to die.
