007 / video
(River is lying curled on her bed, staring at the camera. Her eyes and nose are red.)
I'm tired.
(She rattles off her address. She sounds very small, and absolutely exhausted.)
Come find me. Come find me. I don't want to be a fugitive. I don't want to hide.
I know it's not what you'd want, Simon, but I...
(She shakes her head furiously, getting more and more hysterical.)
There's no time for games or curling up under rocks. Only staring, and watching them cart the bodies away. When spring comes, we all bring out our dead! And so it's spring, now. So here they are. Here are the dead. And you count them, you count them up, and you put them in piles. You name them their names and you whisper in their ears and they whisper back 'her' or 'him' or 'them' and they say 'jealousy' and they say 'lust' and they say 'madness madness madness' and you can't listen too long or you will break, like them. but you get the names, and you watch the feed, and you ask yourself, 'what's the right thing?' Morality is fluid and bendable for some but not for everyone. And when they whisper, they whisper the truth because the dead don't really tell you anything. Just what you can see. And you can see that they're dead and they weren't meant to be.
(She reaches for the button to turn the video off, tears streaming down her face. Before she does, she mumbles to herself.)
Too tired to listen to them anymore.
I'm tired.
(She rattles off her address. She sounds very small, and absolutely exhausted.)
Come find me. Come find me. I don't want to be a fugitive. I don't want to hide.
I know it's not what you'd want, Simon, but I...
(She shakes her head furiously, getting more and more hysterical.)
There's no time for games or curling up under rocks. Only staring, and watching them cart the bodies away. When spring comes, we all bring out our dead! And so it's spring, now. So here they are. Here are the dead. And you count them, you count them up, and you put them in piles. You name them their names and you whisper in their ears and they whisper back 'her' or 'him' or 'them' and they say 'jealousy' and they say 'lust' and they say 'madness madness madness' and you can't listen too long or you will break, like them. but you get the names, and you watch the feed, and you ask yourself, 'what's the right thing?' Morality is fluid and bendable for some but not for everyone. And when they whisper, they whisper the truth because the dead don't really tell you anything. Just what you can see. And you can see that they're dead and they weren't meant to be.
(She reaches for the button to turn the video off, tears streaming down her face. Before she does, she mumbles to herself.)
Too tired to listen to them anymore.