NO RETURN, NO REASON.

#𝟿.         @96buzz, ...        “      i need to go back home.      ”

she coils in towards herself.      serpentine tongue bit from uttering a callous remark.      obviously jackie,    we all want to go home.      knees are drawn closer to her chest.      a mannerism she has been doing often.      a defense in survival?      a hunger for familiarity and the comfort of home?      perhaps all:      a desperation to be cocooned,    a butterfly regressing to it’s chrysalis,    protected from the unknown.

the blonde’s comment resurfaced memories of her own home.      a portrait of a grand house with a white picket fence, the entrance perfectly lined with blooming hydrangeas.      her mother and father in the living room,    sharing a laugh over the aromatic smell of brewing coffee.      her brothers,   alex and michael,    in the garage tinkering with alex’s new car,    waiting for the opportune moment to lovingly tease nina.      and of course,    her room.      her sanctuary from the storm:      filled with photographs of friends,   of little trinkets collected in the span of seventeen years.      she wonders if everything is the same.

despite their differences,    no matter how much of nina’s disdain is caused by jackie’s carelessness.      she has seen too much of the other’s suffering;      witnessed all too vividly how high she has risen, only to fall so far in the ground.      losing her place in the group, soon existing only in memory.

in this she extends kindness.       not that jackie taylor,    of all people,    deserved it.      but simply it was hers to give.

with every blink,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎there's her bedroom,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎pristine and pretty:‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎an only child baby girl whose parents gave her everything she wanted.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎she looks back now to her own lack of gratitude.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎" oh god. "‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎nina's question has her lip curl,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎her tongue shift to press on the back of her teeth,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎and her stomach curl inside itself.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎it hurts,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎the question stings and for a moment she almost shuts down.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎no answer,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎no response,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎because she can see it.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎if the colors are fading around her,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎then the memories that seem to dance so clearly,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎with colors so bright and sensations so reachable‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎(she's aware now that her perception is dulling,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎every day a blur of sleep,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎starve,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎wake).

" honestly? "‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎her voice quivers,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎and she's quick to swallow.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎there was nothing wrong with vulnerability:‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎was.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎she showed it right before nationals,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎she showed the team how hard it was to struggle and how much she cared.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎but here?‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎she refuses.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎there's a wall between her and them.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎she is the other,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎to each and every individual she is the other.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎" sleep,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎on a bed,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎with pillows and blankets and- "‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎as her voice trails off,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎she finally turns her head to tuck her chin to her shoulder.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎hazel eyes have finally spilled a signle tear‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎(and when she rubs it from her cheeks it's with the heel of her palm,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎pushing,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎digging into her skin to make her feel the pressure enough to make her feel alive).‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎" sorry. "‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎for what?

dialogue prompts from the girl who cried diamonds & other stories by rebecca hirsch garcia.

second best is just first loser.

try not to make anyone else cry.

why did you say it was your fault?

tell me the truth. just tell me i'm unlovable.

people will look at you and wince. and then they'll get over it.

if i'm going to die, i'm going to die with you by my side.

i've done a lot of bad things, but i know god wouldn't let me die alone.

do you know what your name means?

after a while, i just stopped being afraid.

fear is exhausting to maintain.

you don't even know how good you are.

i will never help anyone else again, ever. as long as i live.

have you ever seen anyone die? like, in front of you?

you've really done it this time.

i know how this part is going to end.

my mom used to tell me she'd send me to siberia when i was being bad.

you should go somewhere romantic, or at least somewhere people have heard of.

everyone grieves in a different way.

i miss you, now that you're not here.

children have the strangest ideas of justice.

i would have done anything for you.

i must have been very angry, i think, but i can't remember why.

i would prefer if we pretended this day never happened.

i don't want to know anything anymore.

somewhere, someone is having the worst day of their entire life.

i keep trying to make things right again.

how did you even know about what happened? i didn't tell anyone.

you're a kid. no one would blame you.

my girlfriend is an angel.

if you're not dead, you should probably get ready for work.

i'm too tired for shame.

are you scared of being old and ugly?

i'm seriously considering having an affair.

your heartbeat is too noisy.

heights: some people are afraid they'll jump, some people are afraid they'll fall.

why is everything in latin, anyway?

maybe it's because when van looks at jackie all they can taste is smoke, like it's still burrowing in their lungs somehow, wafting. feels death lurking in the shadows. recalls the hot flames in all of their glory ready to devour her whole. maybe it's all of these things combined that just jut van's jaw and stir about an orderly type of defiance deep in her bones in the face of jackie. of course, it isn't as if van hasn't always worn sarcasm like a badge of honour. actually, they don't even try to. try watching a few good films though and see how far a riff of comedy can take you. crossing their arms, they regard her with an almost thoughtful look. van is certainly thinking in all kinds of colourful thoughts, but are any of them really thoughtful right now? your honour, may i have permission to treat jackie taylor as a hostile witness? it would be amusing if anyone other than herself understood the punchline. then again, marisa tomei was the best part of that whole damn movie. ❝   wow, jackie - that's deep.   ❞ for the two of them anyway. ❝   weren't you the one that made us line up and say something nice about each other or whatever? come on. what else do you love about me? y'know. for good measure.   ❞

she could lose allie,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎and they did didn't they?‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎she could lose lottie,‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎those two could hate her fine: ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎but if their goalie looked to their captain with twisted vision–‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎she would've been lost.

An assortment of prompts and/or starters using only four words. Adjust as necessary to fit pronoun and/or descriptor. Reblog, please do not repost or add.

“ I don't need you. ”

“ Celebrate while you can. ”

“ It was too much. ”

“ I'm so, so sorry. ”

“ Let me love you. ”

“ Where have you been? ”

“ Why am I here? ”

“ I would love to. ”

“ I tried but failed. ”

“ You'll never forgive me. ”

“ I want to confess. ”

“ I will protect you. ”

“ You don't deserve me. ”

“ I don't deserve you. ”

“ You are safe here. ”

“ You choose your fate. ”

“ I have lost control. ”

“ I don't recognize myself. ”

“ You are to blame. ”

“ You lack the skills. ”

“ Be still, don't move. ”

“ Yet again you lie. ”

“ You are so beautiful. ”

“ Take it off. Now. ”

“ Look at you now. ”

“ Shoot before it escapes! ”

“ You can't do this! ”

“ Please don't leave me. ”

“ Please leave me along. ”

“ Worship me or die. ”

“ Bow before me, peasant. ”

“ Did you make this? ”

“ I can't believe this! ”

“ You are my villain. ”

“ You are my hero. ”

“ I don't take sides. ”

“ Run, don't look back. ”

“ My life is perfect. ”

“ Don't lie to me. ”

“ When is it over? ”

“ What is this madness? ”

“ Cut loose, have fun! ”

“ I hate you all. ”

“ I love you, dear. ”