It's like she's there, again. TW: VIOLENCE/TORTURE

[callmeemily]

Trigger Warning: This thread contains violence, and torture. If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to tweet @thestarsplay for clarification. Thanks!

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When he'd closed the bathroom door, when he'd turned the light out, the room was plunged into darkness.

Raleigh had screamed until her throat was raw; she sobbed until she had no tears. She was in that basement again; that basement where she'd been so sure that she would die; her leg was numb but she tried to crawl, tried to crawl and reopened her foot, blood smearing the floor. She'd finally stopped, her cheek flat on the ground as she stared at the minuscule crack of light that was coming from under the door. She may have slept; she didn't eat the meal they brought, although after they brought it she tried to pull her hands from the manacles, streaking her wrists with blood.

Finally, she waited. She lay on the floor and waited for them to come. Help wasn't coming. Maybe... maybe someone had noticed; it'd been a day. Maybe Jason had wandered to the bakery. Maybe Spencer wondered why she didn't bring him soup like she'd promised.

Maybe nobody had noticed. Maybe they'd noticed, but nobody cared. Maybe... maybe they'd just assumed she'd moved on.

She was going to die here. She was going to die here. She thought, still. She thought about things she could do, that there'd be anything she could do... besides die. She heard the door open, and she squinted at the light, shrinking back from the light and all that would come with it.

Comments

[callmeemily]

There was, as far as Raleigh knew - especially because she had no idea what was going on with Corrine and the chair - no saving each other. There was the chance that she'd maybe be able to mess up the ritual - maybe die now, before he needs her - but she can't even make that happen.

She can't move. She can't sit up. She can't do anything, and that seemed to be Joseph's purpose. That she couldn't do anything but die.

"He made fun of me," she says thickly, when she turned her face away as Wulfric made peace with whatever afterlife that was supposed to exist. "He thought it was funny, I think, that I was scared of all this. Because I'm human and I can't- and now look." She remembers what Les did bring her, though. That was how she ended up in Jason's arms, how she had the best night she'd had in months because of the way he was so entirely clueless about people who weren't like him.

[starsfallen]

"No, but that's Leslie. He's a good guy. He's the best guy. W- when we get out of here... you should try making him something with pickles. His favorite." She's at the foot of the girl's bed now. On the floor. Banging the chair against the frame of the bed trying to get more to break, but it is a cheap motel frame and only succeeds in rocking them both. She hurts. She hurts so much. The jagged wood and dragging has scraped and opened wounds. The closer she gets to the girl the farther they seem from any feasible escape. But talking. There's some solace, some normalcy here. Maybe she can give the girl some comfort at least. They are still people. Joseph hasn't taken that from them yet.

"Your name's not Emily. What is it? Tell me your story. We deserve that. A good complete story." She rests her head on the floor, closing her eyes and just - attempting to find some peace in another's voice. She's a siren. Voices are entire worlds. Voices are power. "I was born in Siren Cove to a renowned adulterer and a pill-popping mother who likens herself to the height of society. When I was 3 I started singing and dancing. I was in my school play at 4 and never stopped. My parents thought I was too much, too wild and vibrant, so by the time I was old enough I spent all my free time on the boardwalk, performing for whoever would watch. That's how I met Leslie. He was my best friend. My everything as kids. And there was Owen and Lou... I grew up I got out, I found all the stardom that I ever wanted. I saw the world. They called me America's Sweetheart. But then... things happened. And I came back. But it was going to be better. It was going to be better..." It should make her cry. But there's peace here. She has lived. She has loved. All she can see is their faces now, and the scenes of her life. This is what they say happens before you die, isn't it? She is her memories now. They bring her peace.

[callmeemily]

"Pickles and peanut butter," she said as she shook her head. "I really don't think I'm going to be making anybody much of anything, sorry to disappoint you." She's staring up at the ceiling, taking big, gulping breaths of air as the tears still just slipped back into her hair.

"He found out. He must have found out, I don't know how, but they told me to keep it quiet and I didn't, and now I'm here." Her voice cracked, because where Corrine's finding piece, Raleigh isn't. "My mom- Tell my mom, okay? It's Raleigh Harper. Tell my mom-" She can't stop crying, and she wonders why she had to break; why she had to tell Jason, why Aoife was here. Why the man who brought her here brought her to the place she was in danger, when he could have just left her in fucking Bangor or something.

Why this is where she was, now.

Suddenly, all she can think about is Jason's damned dog, about how she'd said she'd stop in and check on him and she hadn't - it makes no sense, what happens when you're staring death in the face. "Can you-" She was going to say something else, anything else, but she can hear the rattle of a door, and all she can do is make a strained noise of fear before it swings open.