The lamuring lady, the sacrifical lamb and the woman who was in the newspapers, in large letters claiming to tell her story through art.
You are one of the members of the yellowjackets team, the number twenty three.
However, most people knew you lik...
CHAPTER SYNOPSIS — In 1996, they looked to you for answers that you pretended to know. In 2021, they looked to you for answers you didn't have.
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2021
Some nights, you used to stare at your dollhouse.
It was very big, with a garden, beds more comfortable than your own and even an attic (where no doll was allowed to go, but it mattered that it was there).
There was a doll with brown hair in the bed, she was always there, always warm and inside the place (you were not allowed to move her, not even if you truly wanted to).
Some nights, you would wake up and watch the dolls move on their own. A little Shauna walking around the kitchen, a tiny Van hopping the stairs.
But little Jackie never moved, she always stayed where you let her: on the bed, on the blanket. You used to cry about it, now you enjoyed the sight: she was safe, she was warm and, most importantly of it all, she was out of your grip.
Staring at your ceiling, you wonder if this was on God's plan.
You remember the cold lonely nights, the sins and blessings. How Lottie would hug you closely or how Jackie would dry your tears with shaking hands. How everyone was so happy dancing, how Misty called you nice and hugged you so dearly.
Or how, on the first nights, you didn't even eat, only to leave more for Lottie, in case she felt hungry.
God treats everyone as sons. Wasn't he the one to make the cross?
When you woke up from your memory, your fingers were stained with blood. Your belly was bloody too, with a few drops getting onto the bed below you. In your skin it was marked, again, the symbol of the trees.
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1996
You walked over in Jackie's direction, seeing her alone in the cabin. You smile at her, seeing her trying to do the same, but not succeeding very well. You keep quiet, just doing your chores of cleaning berries and leaves by her side, hoping your presence would be enough.
— This is all so fucking weird — she said, a sour taste on her mouth as she looked at you doing your tasks — I wish I could just live like you all do, but it's all disgusting and too hot.
