Hall 12

The Aftermath (REVISED)

"She's waking up."

No. Please, no. Not again.

"Do we have to leave or-"
"Shut up Smoke, we're her next of kin or some shit."

God. Why didn't I just die this time?

Footsteps. Shuffling. Whispers.

"What do you mean? We're her family, she wants us here!"
"I'm not saying that, I just want one at a time-"
"I dont't give a shit, I'm not going anywhere."
"Blue-"
"I'm not fucking leaving. I did this to her, I'm staying with her."
"That's not fair!"
"Life isn't fair, deal with it."
"I'm her best friend-"
"And I'm the girl who understands her more than any of you fucks!"

I open my eyes. They don't notice.

"She's new here, none of us know her more than I do!"

Smokey. It's Smokey.

"She's my responsibility now, I fucked her up, I fix her."

Blue.

"We're her friends too, if you couldn't tell!"

Heroin.

"None of us are leav- wait, shit, is she awake?"

Goddammit Crack.

They start to stare at me. Smokey looks like she's been crying. Blue looks like hell. Crack's hair looks especially messy. Heroin figets like he's going to implode at any second.

They surround me silently. Smokey kneels next to the left side of my bed, Crack stands behind her with a hand on her shoulder, and Heroin stands behind him.

Then, there's Blue. She stays where she is. Her eyes look wet with tears, and she puts her hand over her mouth. Her shoulders start to shake, and she walks closer to me.

"I'm so sorry," she whispers, breaking down, falling to the floor next to the right side of the bed.

I don't say anything.

"Please," Blue says, small and weak, "please don't hate me for this."

I could never hate you, I want to say. I couldn't hate you if I tried.

I don't say anything.

"I never meant to- I mean I just couldn't-" she breathes and I can hear her worry. "I wish I never said anything, I wish I could make it better, I wish you could see that I never meant to hurt-"

She takes a deep breath, turning around, and looks towards the rest of the group. "Can I have a minute with her?"

"I don't think that's a good idea," Smokey says.

"Please," she responds, so broken and raspy and I feel her pain. "Please, just for a little bit."

They look at one another and debate with glances. One by one, they file out.

So, now it's us. Blue and I. Alone. And I can't muster up enough energy to say a fucking word.

She pulls up a plastic chair, grabbing my hand and shuffling nervously.

"I didn't mean anything I said," she begins. "I was...I was taught that anger is a form of caring. I lashed out because, well, shit, I just care so much, Allison. Feels weird saying it. Your name, I mean." She pauses and smiles.

"I just. You're so fucking weird, Shakey. You're gorgeous and sweet and kind and shy and fuck, you don't belong here, babe. You're too...perfect. And that shit pisses me off because I never wanted to feel anything but lust for a girl who passed through this shithole because that's what they do, they pass through. They weren't permanent, and I know you won't be either."

I don't say anything. I'm not ready.

She continues. "And I never listened to my gut. Not before you. All it did was get me into bad shit, y'know? But you came to the Island and suddenly I heard it tell me that you're different. And guess what? You are, Shakes."

"You're new, so you don't know my reputation here. I'm...a player. Predator. I prey on the newbies before they go off the deep end. I didn't want to do that to you, and I still don't. If you were any of those other girls, I wouldn't be sitting here and explaining myself, because I wouldn't give half a fuck. You would be gone in a week anyway."

"Allison, you're so special. I never thought I would be able to find a girl worth anything here, except for the ones in the Island. But then you show up with your shiny blonde hair and beautiful eyes and your soft skin and your gentle voice and suddenly I feel like I found someone. You're- god, please, just say something."

I look at her. I list off a few things I could say. 'I understand', 'I'm sorry', 'I forgive you'.

Instead, I do what my mind (not the anxiety, not the depression, not the addiction; the me who I was before all that) tells me to.

I kiss her.