Tess is here. Tess. I thought I shit my pants. Of all the people she's probably the least offensive. She didn't go out like Riley, or turn and attack like Sam.
[A rough drawing of a woman face down, vague arches of a building's lobby behind her, soldiers standing in an open door. Dark scribbles on the ground. Her blood. Ellie never saw Tess' dead body, but she's imagined it hundreds of times.]
Fuck, my nose hurts.
Gotta pull my shit together. I'm here for Joel. I have to make this work. Get out there. Talk to people. Get assigned an inmate, get the fucker to graduate, get Joel back.
Get Joel back Get Joel back. Get Joel back.
I can do this.
-
[The next page is full of little doodles from around the barge. The deck. Library. Garden. And little made up space creatures that are more cute than scary.]
Harder to sleep after that train. How come I was happier there? I don't want to think some fake fucking family made me feel better than Dina and JJ. They're my family.
Finally, a temp pairing. Dancy. I remember her from the stupid train, so that's something. She'll be good practice to see what the fuck this is all about.
-
[Drawings of hands.]
Endlessly looking for Never knowing what it looks like Crawling Tumbling into Fuck.
-
William said Tess died here, too. What luck, right? Fuck. Stop being a little bitch, Ellie. Stop. Just suck it up and have lunch with her or something. I keep thinking about how Joel would deal with this. I know how he would: he wouldn't. He'd be worse than me.
I'm a less-worse him. Some days.
[Thoughts of Joel often lead to drawings of Joel, and there are several of his face here at different angles. The eyes are scribbled out on each one, with attempts at getting them right in the margins of the pages.]
Bet you can't stand me calling you that, but it feels right.
You weren't the only one happier on the train, but I'm not really the person I was there, nor am I someone who likes to die for the sake of others or the world. That's just who I can be in a situation I've got no other way out of. I am a survivor, and sometimes that means doing shitty things because it might get me ahead. You know how it goes because that's your life too, and it was his as well. Sometimes you lose.
For what it's worth, borrowing this? Wasn't worth it. I can own that. But no matter how long you want to be pissed at me, you and I still have a plan and I'm still planning on holding up my end of it.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
JULY.
[A rough drawing of a woman face down, vague arches of a building's lobby behind her, soldiers standing in an open door. Dark scribbles on the ground. Her blood. Ellie never saw Tess' dead body, but she's imagined it hundreds of times.]
Fuck, my nose hurts.
Gotta pull my shit together. I'm here for Joel. I have to make this work. Get out there. Talk to people. Get assigned an inmate, get the fucker to graduate, get Joel back.
Get Joel back
Get Joel back.
Get Joel back.
I can do this.
-
[The next page is full of little doodles from around the barge. The deck. Library. Garden. And little made up space creatures that are more cute than scary.]
I miss Dina. I miss JJ. They'd love this place.
AUGUST.
-
Harder to sleep after that train. How come I was happier there? I don't want to think some fake fucking family made me feel better than Dina and JJ. They're my family.
SEPTEMBER.
-
[Drawings of hands.]
Endlessly looking for
Never knowing what it looks like
CrawlingTumbling intoFuck.-
William said Tess died here, too. What luck, right? Fuck. Stop being a little bitch, Ellie. Stop. Just suck it up and have lunch with her or something. I keep thinking about how Joel would deal with this. I know how he would: he wouldn't. He'd be worse than me.
I'm a less-worse him. Some days.
[Thoughts of Joel often lead to drawings of Joel, and there are several of his face here at different angles. The eyes are scribbled out on each one, with attempts at getting them right in the margins of the pages.]
On some random page
Bet you can't stand me calling you that, but it feels right.
You weren't the only one happier on the train, but I'm not really the person I was there, nor am I someone who likes to die for the sake of others or the world. That's just who I can be in a situation I've got no other way out of. I am a survivor, and sometimes that means doing shitty things because it might get me ahead. You know how it goes because that's your life too, and it was his as well. Sometimes you lose.
For what it's worth, borrowing this? Wasn't worth it. I can own that. But no matter how long you want to be pissed at me, you and I still have a plan and I'm still planning on holding up my end of it.
The Old Hag