bandaids & bullet holes

she disagreed with them, fundamentally. still, she had no desire to prod or provoke. the last thing they needed was to fall into petty squabbles when survival demanded unity. yet, a part of her itched to understand the reasoning behind their no-nonsense truth, to pick apart the mindset that left so little room for hope.

“i think there are precautions we can take,” she began carefully, her voice measured but not without conviction. “to make sure it doesn’t happen again. look after each other. hold everyone accountable when rules are broken...” her words faltered as she trailed off, the weight of her thoughts pressing on her. she hoped she made sense, that her perspective might be heard without sparking contention.

“i just don’t think there’s anything wrong with trying to stay hopeful,” she added softly, her gaze steady but tinged with vulnerability.

" it is not a matter of hope , " josephine shrugged , keeping her voice low , as if attempting to sample her tone to see if it was fitting before allowing it to reach the other's ears . alas , she hadn't accounted for the emptiness between them — nothing but the air to catch her syllables , no means of dampening their weight .

" — it is a matter of will , and not our own , but the will of whomever brought us here . it was with purpose , us finding that tree . a conscious choice made by one much bigger than all of us . to test them , to think we can outsmart them with precautions and careful footing , would be a lethal feat that would only speed up what seems to be an otherwise , , , intentional process . "

she looks at jo at her curiosity. she could have a point there. an example for them? could that be why they left her out? maybe it was to show them that they didn't know everything about this place like they thought. it wasn't just them waiting for someone to step outside and attack them and leave their bodies for the morning. those things could think and plan and do something like this. "can they feel anger?" she asks absently. "or are they just bored with us and wanted to play a game?"

no one ever forgot seeing blood .

leaning in curiously , josephine dropped her gaze down to the pages the librarian fiddled with , listening to the droned words that came from moving lips as if she were tuned in to some morbid radio station .

wonder burned in her chest , fascination making her full lips parted as she heaved a sigh ; " oh , " was all she had to offer in response , the sound of the fused pages rustling as they were tampered with pricking her skin with goose bumps .

the question catches josephine off guard , scrunching her brows as if she is surprised it had been asked . " no , don't fix it , " she replied , shaking her head , straightening her spine as if she had just been asked whether or not she had committed a crime . guilt gripped her sternum , clinging to her like an old friend in need of reassurance . she swallowed the glass that was stuck in her throat .

or at least honest .

" no , " came her curt reply , short and to the point , returning her stare to the stranger's for a moment before opting instead to look past her — over her shoulder , down the asphalt road and through the mist that always seemed to roll over it .

josephine's eyes then returned to the site where the body had been , nose wrinkling in some semblance of disgust ; uncertainty . josephine knew death itself better than any individual that resided in oblitus — but that didn't mean she enjoyed their companionship . jo often questioned its embrace , its intentions ; the reaper so fantastical at times it was hard to accept they were a real being , even when their handiwork was so prevalent in this town . in the world . " i didn't know her at all , and given how death treated her , i'm not sure if that's a good or bad thing . "

"yeah⸺" her response is brief, a small, curt nod of commiseration. words elude her, despite the undeniable truth that the world had lost someone so beautiful. tragedy had become a fixture in their new existence, so deep in their daily lives that it was too easy to grow indifferent to it. death here, it seemed, was inescapable.

maude's eyes flash towards jo, an instant of agreement passing by as the wind carries between the locks of her shoulder length hair. she struggles with offering the kind of sentimental comfort that others seem to find so naturally. instead, she clings to what she knows. “it shouldn’t have happened,” she says, her voice firm, the weight of logic anchoring her words. the town’s rigid rules were supposed to prevent such things, but now that they had failed, what did that mean for their future? “but we’ll make sure it doesn’t happen to anyone else.”

taste my flesh and my sin , her fingers would spell out as they wove the drafty air of her residence between them , breaths short .

josephine's expression soured for a quick moment , wearing a detest for the vow made by the other for a flicker of a second before it melted away ; back to neutrality .

" it will happen again , " josephine said in counter , lips buzzing like static , a slow inhale of breath followed by an even more drawn out exhale that shuddered as it clung to the air in a small plume of mist . " — and we cannot do anything to stop it . to promise such a thing would be cruel . "

"I get it, though I don't really understand it. I like some quiet."

Some people would say he likes it too much, but that's not important.

"So anything you want to share? It's been a minute since we caught up."

" not really , " she exhaled , lowering the bottom from her mouth to rest its cool glass against the warmth bleeding from her face down her neck. her gaze found the bend of her knees , the hand not cradling the beverage picking at one of the tears in her jeans , twisting the frayed denim around the pad until it puckered from the pressure. not wanting to talk about herself , knowing there wouldn't be much of interest there , jo found something else to bring up instead . " sad what happened to that emerson girl , " josephine offered quietly , frowning . " i know death is commonplace in. . . this place , but , something about hers felt — " she lifted her eyes to the ceiling , as if the word she wanted would be imprinted upon it .

her exposure to books had been minimal growing up ; a bible , some other varying religious texts , a couple tampered textbooks and her mother's own spiritual documents from years past. . . but HERE ?? the limit ceased to exist , shelves stacked with titles varying from nonfiction to pure pornography . sometimes even just holding a book was enough , fanning through the dusted pages of faded texts . she particularly loved finding ones with annotations ; reading what others had learned , wondering where they had been when they had written them .

though one particular book she had stumbled upon appeared to have had pages glued together. . . and josephine had attempted to investigate it herself, make out what had unified the pages . the bondage seemed to have been oxidized. . . what it was , exactly , she wasn't sure — so she had headed towards the front to bring it to one of the librarian's attentions . the face behind the counter was familiar ; curious looking . from the furrow of her brows , to the intense way she observed the book's damage , to the meticulous manipulating of tweezers. . . despite her gentle approach , her methodical handling , jo felt uneasy . her question made the girl feel as if she was being interrogated , her breath shuddering as she slowly exhaled .

this place had been erin's nightmare since coming here, but if she ever found out that others might feel differently than her, it would truly throw her for a loop. what could possibly be worse than this?

seeing josephine continue to struggle, seeing her try and still break beneath her own thoughts and memories, reminded erin of her own struggle with grief and being in oblitus. erin tries to reconcile it with herself; tells herself that she sees potential in josephine, that she doesn't feel sorry for her like she feels sorry for most everyone in oblitus, but its difficult still. difficult still when there is a tug each time she sees someone young living out their lives here - reminds herself that she was young once too when she found her way here...

there is a thin line between them, truly. echoes of erin's own thoughts seem to be echoed within josephine and, often times, its like looking at a mirror in some ways. she can see grief there too - which is why she extends an olive branch; erin is incapable of letting someone suffer by themselves. the least she could do is keep them company whilst they go through it, she tells herself.

and josephine seems to be going through it.

there was so little about oblitus that josephine knew , and even less she understood .

seeing jo staring at the place where she was left, charlie wondered if she was mourning or just trying to piece together what happened. "hi," she says when she has her attention. "yeah, it's always sad when we lose someone." she thinks back to the storm that happened right after she arrived and the amount of people they lost that night. she didn't know any of them, but this was her first that she did know even if it wasn't well. "weird how she was left like that. i still don't know much about this place, but that doesn't feel right."

" it can be sad , " josephine sighed in response , sandwiching her palms beneath biceps as she pushes hands deep into the fabric of her unzipped hoodie . " — but death . . . it is part of this , isn't it ?? " of purgatory , she meant . technically , they had already abandoned their living bodies , their souls now tethered to this place - the in between . were they really dying here or were their deaths being completed ??

"I guess there's hardly ever a simple way to do things here. For as small as the community is, there's a lot to consider."

He gestures to a chair across from him for her to sit. Sunset is still a few hours away, so there's no rush to get her home.

"How have you been? Everyone at the motel treating you alright?"

He's a bit protective over Jo since he was the one who saved her from getting killed by the creatures. A good deed someone had done for him that he now passed on and maybe will have to do again.

in the silence , josephine find's her eyes returning over her shoulder in his direction , noticing the invitation to have a seat . to relax . to stay a while .

dread coiled in her stomach , and she swallowed hard ; it'd be rude not to accept his offer , just as it would have been to turn down the beverage . with slow and weighted steps , josephine moved into the living room , using the cuff of her zip-up to twist off the cap of the beer she had returned to her grasp ; a hiss sounding from the carbonation as she sank her weight into the worn furniture .

"It's all okay," he responds. "I'm honestly back earlier than I thought I would be."

He hangs his coat in the closet near the door and carefully lines his shoes in it as well.

"My day was okay," he says, walking toward the kitchen. "There's always something to do and no way to actually do them."

He pulls a couple of beers out of his fridge. He really only drinks when he has company. He walks back and holds out a bottle to Jo.

what she knew of men was very little , her two years in oblitus doing hardly anything to further educate her . what she did know was in PURGATORY , all were equal . he and her both , collectively , hung in the balance . at least that was one thing they had in common .

her lungs trembled , exhaling a quivering breath . " right , " josephine then offered as a response , half-attempting to work a smile on her face but her muscles seeming to have lost all knowledge of the expression . thick brows furrowed deeper at the beer he extended to her , lips rolling into a line , the leftward corner twitching as if she were about to scowl . then , tentatively , she reached out and accepted it — though she made no move to drink from the ambered glass .