The itching was the worst part.
Of all the freaking things that Jade was feeling right now, somehow the itching was the worst. Pain? She had a tolerance and a million techniques to block it out, not a problem (she thought like a liar, because this was most definitely a problem). Cold? That helped more than anything, helped the bleeding stab wounds in her sides stop their flow and grow numb. Exhaustion? That was just a routine feeling, not even anything new.
Itching really really sucked though.
Even the itching had it's purpose though, something for her mind to latch onto instead of drifting, a sense she could stand to feel, something that didn't let her focus on memories.
Memories...
"Ma? Momma, he's laughin'. Ma we need t'run, now."
"'m sorry sweet gem, y'know I'd carry y' outta here if I- If-"
"I need to stay with her. Run."
"No."
"Ja-"
"No."
"Gem, this isn' up for debate. When the door opens we're throwin' you out, an' you're runnin'. Y' run, straight to Pam's, an' hide there. If we live you'll find us."
"Y' think y're gonna live? With him?"
"No. Tha's why this isn' up for debate."
"Cathy. He's right outside the door."
"You'll run?"
"Ma!"
"You'll run."
"I won'-"
"Joe, throw her."
"Ma- Dad-!"
"We're sorry Love Bug."
"MA!"
Jade blinked. Huh, the ceiling looked strangely blurry. Her face felt wet too.
Little reaching fingers of sickly yellow-green reached after her, wanting to fill her and choak her like they'd taken her parent's right to breathe.
She blinked again. Now she wondered why.
Why'd I run?
Ever since then she'd run, her first defense, her last line of fire, the first thing before fists. Runner. Coward. She was good at it.
Can't run with locked doors an' sprained ankles.
She hummed softly in the darkness to give her mind a new thing to latch onto, since the itching was clearly flopping. A tune. Something from Return of the King, her favorite movie ever since Jason showed it to her. She remembered another voice humming that tune.
She latched onto him with her arms around his waist and felt that now it was relief and tears and something else she couldn't name that wouldn't let her breathe, holding him tight and feeling him hold her back and she heard him start to hum that tune from lord of the rings that they both loved but he taught her.
The ceiling looked blurry again. Her chest heaved but abandoned the hiccup in favor of calming the spark of white pain it caused.
Jay. Jay, 're y' comin'? I need y' t'find me again.
Now her eyes squeezed shut. Well, they always said she was like him, so so like her brother in so many ways broken and beautiful and strange and wonderful. Maybe she'd die the same way. Maybe she'd return.
