"𝐎𝐤𝐚𝐲, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐚 𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐮𝐬, 𝐈'𝐦 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐬."
Cara Pritchard, a fun-loving and free-wheeling girl who has always been the black sheep of her family. Her older brother can whistle with c...
- THE SLIPPERY SLOPE PT 1 - "You killed my friends."
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IT WAS ONCE THOUGHT THAT CARA COULD NOT FEEL ANY GREATER DESPAIR than she did when she watched her own flesh and blood go tumbling out of the sky as though he were a stone trying to fight against the force of gravity. A raging candlelight dimmed by a douse of water containing a harpoon that had been shot at him, sending both him and his sister to emotional depths.
Though Cara Pritchard did not shed a tear, the loss of her brother had smashed her heart into pieces held together by the simple fact that she had other people she loved almost as much. However, gravity seemed to be the girl's nemesis as it had just ripped those lovely people away from her cracked heart, resulting in just a fragment of cardiac muscle remaining.
Just minutes ago, she had watched the only friends she had go tumbling down a slippery slope to their deaths delivered by an evil man in the front seat of a vehicle she was trapped in. Plenty of journeys had been spent within that vehicle, but by far this one was the worst. Lost friends, restricted senses, nowhere to scream, nowhere to run, trapped.
The weight that had been lifted off of her shoulders previously now crushed back on her like she was trying to stop a rockslide with nothing but her body - building pressure eventually breaking her and rendering her unmoving.
Fear wasn't unfamiliar, but she had never been in such a state of discomposure. Survival had been delivered to her by the friends she had just watched fall to their deaths, comfort had been provided for her by the same people and safety had been ripped away from her by their loss. Never had she imagined she would be doing this on her own.
Though she wasn't truly alone, Sunny Baudelaire was still living and breathing, but Cara Pritchard never had been good at taking care of a young child. Terrible with her brother, most likely worse with Sunny. Cara couldn't invent, she didn't have knowledge...she was truly alone and fending for herself.
Not to mention having to take care of a baby. The designated carrier turned to Sunny's main carer at once. Sunny was loved like she was Cara's own sibling, but the responsibility was almost too much to bear. Only adding to the rockslide of pressure crushing Cara slowly but surely.
Hatred for herself had never been so prominent. Back at the carnival when she saw Violet and Klaus in the caravan, she should've done something. When she was being held down, she should've fought harder. When they were getting separated, she should've done more. When she watched the caravan roll down the slope, she should've shed a tear. But she didn't and although her nose tingled and her eyes stung, nothing came out, nothing was threatening to come out and Cara spent the journey numb.
Hands in her hair, nails in her scalp, arms hiding her face, legs pulled up to her torso to hide herself from the henchmen, from Olaf, from Esmé. Sunny had been removed from being beside the girl moments after Cara had tried to strangle Olaf, onto Esmé's lap when she could've been with Cara. Cara could be comforting her like the Baudelaires had done with her, but she couldn't. Nor could she speak. Nor could she cry. Nor could she yell.
