#camprep

          𝚃𝙷𝙴      𝙰𝙲𝙷𝙴      𝙸𝚂      𝚃𝙾𝙾      𝙷𝙴𝙰𝚅𝚈            i can feel it in my marrow  ,    stitched into viscera  .                    𝙞 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙮𝙚𝙙  ,     𝙗𝙪𝙞𝙡𝙩 𝙪𝙥 𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙧𝙪𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣  .                    (     there are incomplete parts of me     /     jagged pieces  ,    missing shards of glass  .    something broken     &     hastily put back together again     )                      i am nothing but a man  ,    begging you not to get cut on my edges  .                       𝙳𝙾𝙽'𝚃    𝙱𝙴    𝙰𝙵𝚁𝙰𝙸𝙳    𝙾𝙵    𝙼𝙴  .                     though i come home with blood soaking through my clothes     &     the smell of smoke clinging to my hair      /       though i am a wolf searching for it’s next victim  ,    a knife with a rusted edge  ,    the means to an end  .      when my eyes are tired     &     i fall apart in the safety of your hands  .                      (     you are the softness within me that i can never find  ,     the gentleness caught in the spaces between my fingers  .     you are a life     /     a world that i am not deserving of     )

          𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙛𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙨 𝙖𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙩𝙤𝙤 𝙛𝙖𝙨𝙩  .           shallow breathing  ,    nightmare clawing at the monsters skin  ,    too afraid of the shadows spewing out of his own mouth to focus on the sunshine of her eyes  .     a yell so forceful it rattles the windowpanes  ,     muscles twitching under the guise of heavy sleep  ----     forcing off the things that exist only behind eyelids squeezed too tight  .     there is a flick of light  ,     𝚒𝚝    𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚜    𝚛𝚎𝚍    𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚍    𝚖𝚢    𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚍𝚜  ,     a breath forced through the concave of his lungs  .     cathedrals erected by saints that abandoned him the second he wrapped his hands around life      /       i chose me  ,    and now i pay the price  .      I JUST WANTED TO FUCKING LIVE  ,    WHY AM I DEAD NOW  ?      don the reaper’s hood  ,    skeletal hands shake violently as they reach towards her  -----     there is no scythe there  ,    the grim blinks his eyes     &    disappears for another night  .     𝙨𝙤𝙤𝙣  ,    𝙨𝙤𝙤𝙣  ,    𝙨𝙤𝙤𝙣  .      it rattles around his skull  ,    volatile     &     angry  .       i am death  ,    i am dead  ,    so why am i still so afraid  ?

         words spill frantically  ,     though they are meaningless  .            twisted around his tongue  ,    drowsy with vodka  ,    yet sharp like knives still  ----     a bloodied flurry of russian as he gasps  .     there is only one word that can be dug out from the wreckage  ,                     ❛    brooke  ----   ❜                   eyes snap open  ,    knees draw upwards  ,    feet throwing off the sheets with a panicked sound  .                   𝚖𝚢    𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗    𝚒𝚜    𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎    /    𝚖𝚢    𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗    𝚒𝚜    𝚘𝚗    𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎                   trembling  ,    a shell of a man     /     a boy who had no life  .                     (    i hold your death in my hands  ,    little boy  ,     i am koschei     &    i dare you to fear me  ----     the snarls of his father still echo and live inside     )                   a sob pushed past his lips  ,     and all of heaven could weep for how mournful it sounds  .     like a stray dog    /    a wounded animal  ,    in memorium of that which is lost and never to be found again  .     the rough edges are smoothed  ,    the animal tamed as he shudders out desperate breaths     &     falls into her  .     𝙞𝙩 𝙞𝙨𝙣'𝙩 𝙛𝙖𝙞𝙧  ,    𝙞 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬  ,     that i ask you to hold me together like this     /     that i beg you to pull out your sewing needle    &    stitch together the wounds that are left from years of running and fighting and running and fighting                     (     while you are there  ,    embroider your name onto my heart  ,    leave me a reminder for when you are far     /     an exit wound for my sadness  ,    where i can hold you and never be undone     )

If Stu had put two and two together with Casey's death and Brooke's words, it hadn't registered on his face. Even if it had, the likeliness of him feeling a similar pang of guilt was very LOW. In his eyes, Casey deserved it for tossing him aside so easily for a boring, sleazebag jock. Instead he focuses on biting and pulling off the plastic wrapper from a green apple flavored Jolly Rancher that Tatum had given him at lunch earlier that day. After popping the candy in his mouth and keeping it against his cheek as he sucks on it, he lets out a sudden BARK of a laugh. " No way, I'm super buff. I could take out any slasher with these guns! " Stu shakes his head, pushing up his sleeve to attempt to show off his biceps, patting his own arm with a CHEEKY grin before he lowers his it back to his side.

" You think I should get a box of hair dye just in case, though? " His voice suddenly lowers to a hushed, mocking whisper of concern. " What do ya think, Brooke? Would I make a sexy, fiery redhead? "

     “... then i realized i’m a 17-year-old billionaire.”

Kit strolled along through the hallway, humming a tune to himself as he walked. It hadn’t been long since he’d been let out of solitary after the fight he’d gotten into with another patient, but he was trying his hardest to go back to normal - or, well, whatever normal could be in a place like Briarcliff. As he turned a corner, he ran directly into someone and took a large step back to put some distance between them, hoping to god that they wouldn’t start screaming bloody murder. “Sorry ‘bout that,” He said with a gentle smile. “Are you alright?”

            kyle couldn’t sleep either. ever since being stitched back together and being brought back to life with body parts that weren’t yours , he had a hard time going to sleep. at least... by himself. things didn’t make sense anymore and he hated looking at himself in the mirror because he felt like he wasn’t looking AT HIMSELF. it was someone else’s hands , someone else’s chest , someone else’s shoulders... the only thing he had left that was his was his head and even that wasn’t working correctly. but one thing he knew was that he could go to brooke for comfort. zoe had been busy and all madison wanted to do was suck his dick. brooke understood him on a level he needed. he had went to her room just to bathe in her presence but upon entering , he sees a distraught brooke. someone he knew to be strong , always. but not right now. his first instinct was to place his hand upon her shoulder , to touch her. to make her feel like she wasn’t alone. he didn’t know why she was upset and he didn’t know how to ask her either     —     words didn’t come easy for him after the accident. but he listened to her and felt like she needed someone to be by her side , to make her feel like she was safe. he took it upon himself to sit on the edge of her bed , his face still straight as an arrow , and placed both his hands on her knee as a sign of reassurance. he wanted to so badly ask what was wrong but it was like his tongue and his mind weren’t connected , that there was a missing outlet somewhere between. instead he scooted closer and canted his head questioningly.

                 𝐓𝐇𝐄    𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑    𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐒                    the rays beat down  ,    incessant  ,    like waves lapping at the shore     /      nature’s immortality  ,    her ethereal pull on all things mystic and divine  .                      𝙞 𝙗𝙪𝙧𝙣    /     𝙞 𝙗𝙪𝙧𝙣     /      𝙞 𝙗𝙪𝙧𝙣                         do you ever get tired of it  ?                      (     you are something light  ,    something joyful  ,    something unending  ----      do you ever want to put it down  ?     )                           fingertips scrape idly against the wood of the picnic table  ,     silence pressed against the backs of his teeth  ;    gnashing molars  ,    secrets secured there     /      ground up into the dust of memory  .                       𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙡𝙚𝙛𝙩 𝙪𝙣𝙨𝙖𝙞𝙙  ,     𝙞'𝙢 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢                          teeth dig into flesh  ,    an angry tug     &     pull     /     unrelenting as he turns to watch her  ;     an innocence in his quiet fascination  .                        (    you know her name  ----     does she even know yours  ?     something that refuses to blossom  ,    words that keep hidden in the concave of your throat    /    as though flowers drowned out by heavy rains    )                            ❝    what are you doing  ?    ❞                              heel digs into the ground  ,     swinging one of his legs over the bench with a frown  ,    nodding towards her slightly  ,    shoulders scrunching up towards his neck  .                          ❝    whatever it is looks really nice  ----     complicated  ,    but nice  .    ❞