[Goodbye my Lover]
Did I disappoint you? Or let you down?
Should I feel guilty or let the judges frown?
Goodbye my lover.
Goodbye my friend.
You have been the one, you have been the one for me.
Lucy-Marie Mickaela Soleil had known. From the time Thera and Remy had pointed their fingers to her it was without a doubt going to seal her's and Jared's fate. Those loosely put together facts, the hidden photographs, the finger pointing. She hadn't even gotten a chance to tell them she was more British than French, or the fact that she was only the first one responding to everything because she could hardly sleep- truth be told she might have gotten a few hours every night curled up against Jared, but even those had been filled with plaguing dreams that had her screaming before she could actually sleep decently.
So when she was awoken not by her own blood-curtling screams, and by Jared's movement- She knew it was over. The die had been cast and this was it. Up in a flash she hardly had time to think- This was the man that killed Jared's girlfriend. Emi. He killed Raivis and Valdi- This was the real killer, and the rage she had before was only capped off as she watched her friend fight him.
No. They weren't going down this easily. They weren't going down without giving this devil what he deserved-
But truth be told-
If Lucy-Marie was completely honest with herself in that moment, she didn't want to die.
Dewi's face flashed before her eyes and her muscles tensed in a fight response to the white devil in front of her, an apology and confession going through her head:
I'm so sorry Dewi- I'm sorry- I wish I could've told you I loved you... Just... one last time.
I'm so glad you don't have to go through this...
Her feet lifted her off the ground without her knowing, another vicious scream tearing from her throat even as she felt the knife plunge into her abdomen. Small hands gripped Gilbert's shirt and she fought- she fought with all the strength she had left in her, adrenaline filling her veins as blood spilt from the deep wound. She feels the knife twist and her remaining strength leaves her, coughing violently and slumping against the Prussian, hazel eyes slowly closing.
Luce isn't sure what goes through her mind as she's dying. It's certainly not her life; she doesn't think of her hope back on Seychelles, where her only real worry was cutting her foot on a broken seashell, and she doesn't think of her school, she doesn't even think of her parents, back at home, worried sick waiting for her- even though they'll never see their daughter again.
She thinks of the people that have condemned her. Thera. Remy. Yao- whoever else voted for her and Jared-
.
And she thanks them for sparing her from the rest of this sick game.
Goodluck.
And goodbye.