Re: [No. 3 to No. 24: Iris & Sam]
Sam bounced back better than she did most things. Ok, so there were the drugs, yeah? But she was still here. She was still living, still functioning, and a lot of people wouldn't be doing as good as her, yeah? If they went through the complete mindfuck HELL Ian put her through. Yeah, there were other things too. Micah, Chloe, yeah, there were other things. But Ian. Ian and those WEEKS. Ian and THOSE WEEKS. Ian AND THOSE WEEKS. IAN AND THOSE WEEKS-
But she was here, yeah? Holding up. Doing good. She could get through this, too. This night, and maybe it was all bullshit anyway. All in her head, and there was no blood beneath her fingernails anymore, and she was only imagining the tang of blood in her mouth. If nothing happened, then no one would have to deal with it. She would fucking spiral and spiral and spiral, the world a maw that wanted to suck her down and a needle at its core. And, like usual, it was easier to think about Iris' starvation, yeah? About how they could get her sister help against her will, because it was always like that. Maybe Manning, yeah? Maybe she could talk to Manning. Or maybe Cris could. Not Lou. Lou had his shit, yeah? So not Lou.
And then Iris talked defensive, and Sam's blue eyes were cloudy and unfocused as she listened to her sister. OKAY. That was the world that reverberated. OKAY. Like Iris needed to defend herself, and maybe Sam was wrong to blame her. She'd always wondered that, yeah? Teetered, because she'd done what Ian said, yeah? After those first few days, she'd just done whatever fucking depraved thing Ian had wanted. She couldn't blame Iris for that, yeah? For her own filth or whatever. Yeah? Maybe they were the same. Equal or whatever, and she didn't argue about anything or ask Iris to clarify. She got it, yeah? Iris ran away from home and was insecure, and Ian told her things about her that were good, and he gave her a place, and Iris couldn't remember.
Sam didn't push or anything, and she'd only taken a few steps when Iris crouched and trembled and made herself small. Sam stood there, towering over her older sister. A sister who was skeletal, skin and bone and bone and skin. Sam hugged herself around the middle, and she had NO fucking clue how to get home. Yeah? None. Nothing looked familiar, and Iris was crouched down and Sam felt like some kind of storybook monster looming over her.
Slow and more dazed, giving up or something, she held out her hand, forearm pale and wrist bruised over old razor scars. "Come on. We'll just find somewhere to crash, yeah? We'll find somewhere for you to crash safe."