(no subject)
She wasn't alone. Eden knew that. She had Gideon and Grigg, and while that might not have seemed like much to some people, it was a lot more than she could say for life before the island. She didn't mind it, not really. It had taken a while, but she'd figured, somewhere along the way, that if this was all she got, then she was just going to enjoy it. The day she'd died, she hadn't known she was going to die until she'd made up her mind to go down swinging, and with the work she'd done, it could have been any day before it. It was all luck of the draw in the long run, luck and a little effort, and there was nothing she could do about it but live while she had the chance.
So she had her friends and she had her classes, but there was still the heavy sense that something was missing. A week short of twenty-four, there was only so thankful a girl could be for yet another unexpected birthday when she'd just missed celebrating that of her best friend.
There were no problems to fix, no advice she needed to seek. She just wanted to sit with Penny and talk about nothing at all. Instead it was another day that seemed to drag on, the kind where she couldn't help asking herself what she thought she was doing and why she wasn't doing more, though there were no answers. She stationed herself at the edge of the orchard with her sketchpad and pencils, trying to focus long enough to draw something that actually looked like what it was supposed to be before tomorrow's class. Focus, though, seemed entirely beyond her, and soon enough she wound up scribbling quickly over yet another half-done garden scene, letting her pencil clatter down and roll away, pressing her hands briefly to her face in exasperation.
"This is ridiculous," she said, one hand falling to her lap as she twisted to reach for her pencil. "Pull it together."
[Set to Sunday morning/afternoon.]
So she had her friends and she had her classes, but there was still the heavy sense that something was missing. A week short of twenty-four, there was only so thankful a girl could be for yet another unexpected birthday when she'd just missed celebrating that of her best friend.
There were no problems to fix, no advice she needed to seek. She just wanted to sit with Penny and talk about nothing at all. Instead it was another day that seemed to drag on, the kind where she couldn't help asking herself what she thought she was doing and why she wasn't doing more, though there were no answers. She stationed herself at the edge of the orchard with her sketchpad and pencils, trying to focus long enough to draw something that actually looked like what it was supposed to be before tomorrow's class. Focus, though, seemed entirely beyond her, and soon enough she wound up scribbling quickly over yet another half-done garden scene, letting her pencil clatter down and roll away, pressing her hands briefly to her face in exasperation.
"This is ridiculous," she said, one hand falling to her lap as she twisted to reach for her pencil. "Pull it together."
[Set to Sunday morning/afternoon.]