The water—it was good for me, y’know? Okay, maybe you don’t, but the point is that despite my griping and groaning and bitching about water not being my type, it was workin’ wonders on my nerves. The calm ebb of the waves hitting my sides eased my shaking—yeah, I shook-- and they help regulate my gasping and even helped disguise the tear tracks running down the black of my cheeks—yeah, I cried. Because after the black and the fearand the exuberant show of fake irritation and the getting the hell out of dodge, other, normal things started to settle back in my head. And as I rewatched the whole fiasco in my head, I was embarrassed. I had flew from that black cloud—feared it-totally willing to leave everything and everyone behind just to get away from it.

Twice.

*"What the hell was that?"*

With a hiccup, my head flew upwards, my ears forward; I guess I had been breathing too loudly and been too embarrassed to really register that someone had actually followed me. It turned out to be Teeny—or, Mr. Snow—or, that one huge white dude that pretty much saved my life. I was still gulping down huge breaths of air, and I was vaguely relieved that I hadn’t been sobbing—the whole right side of my face was dripping wet from the gentle tide of the pond, so he wouldn’t see any tear tracks there. I could hide my childishness—well. I could hide that instance of childishness.

“I dunno,” I gasped, shaking my head and rolling onto my belly, my legs folding underneath my weight. Squeezed my eyes shut, hard; just thinking about it threatened a panic attack. “I just know it was huge,” and scary, “and black,” and scary, “and annoying as hell!!” I bit my tongue on the last syllable; I groaned in my throat because, suddenly, I was too tired to be angry anymore. I had spent all my angry coins on the false showing on the beach. I was just tired now, and achy and shaky and still very much afraid.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve seen it,” I said, rocking onto my feet and feeling the way my joints seemed to ooze into themselves like warm jelly, “ I saw it swallow the Veins. It’s like—it’s like it’s spreading, or something, or—“ or maybe it’s chasing me?. The thought struck me super suddenly, residue of my recent panic, and I froze, looking at Mr. Clean with a look of horror in my wide, wide eyes. I couldn’t help it. I was scared all over.


@[Mauja]
speaking