[for Beat; January 5th]
Afterward, she just wanted to be alone.
Even before it had really sunk in, she couldn't handle the company she usually craved. Blair and Chuck and Nate and Eric, their presence was a comfort, a desperately needed one, but stifling somehow, too. The kitchen was suddenly too warm by far, and long before the truth of those three absences was solid fact in her mind, the rest felt all too real. Her lungs and throat grew impossibly tight, every breath catching, falling short, and this and the heat and the pricking behind her eyes - so frustrating, so unfinished - were a dizzying combination. She loved them all - even Jenny, in a way, despite everything - but she couldn't be there, she just couldn't.
There weren't many places to be alone, not on the island, but Blair knew her well enough, after all this time, to understand when Serena just needed to be by herself. The bulk of her tears, at least, she'd managed to put off until she was safely in her room and alone, curled up on her bed with her face to the wall. In a way, that was the easy part. Crying like that, growing dizzier still, at least she couldn't get her mind in order long enough to think clearly. It was just this great unknowable grief, a twisting in the pit of her stomach, in every part of her, horrible but mercifully vague at once. Lying there after, emptied out, she had nothing but her thoughts. Then it settled in her. Then it was real.
Lyla. Tim. Dan. It didn't seem right, it didn't seem possible, that they should all be gone, all three at once, and nothing Chuck said about their getting to go home made it anymore palatable. She couldn't disbelieve him, though, or Jenny or Jason. About this, they had no cause to lie. Lyla and Tim and Dan. She should have done something, she should have said she was sorry, she should have, she should have, she should have... A hundred regrets, and all they did was tangle in on themselves - how cruel, how stupid she'd been, how selfish she was even now. Exhausted, she stared at the wall, unseeing, hands curled into fists against her chest, and the sharp press of her nails against her palms brought a strange comfort. Maybe it was just a simpler pain to bear.
Even before it had really sunk in, she couldn't handle the company she usually craved. Blair and Chuck and Nate and Eric, their presence was a comfort, a desperately needed one, but stifling somehow, too. The kitchen was suddenly too warm by far, and long before the truth of those three absences was solid fact in her mind, the rest felt all too real. Her lungs and throat grew impossibly tight, every breath catching, falling short, and this and the heat and the pricking behind her eyes - so frustrating, so unfinished - were a dizzying combination. She loved them all - even Jenny, in a way, despite everything - but she couldn't be there, she just couldn't.
There weren't many places to be alone, not on the island, but Blair knew her well enough, after all this time, to understand when Serena just needed to be by herself. The bulk of her tears, at least, she'd managed to put off until she was safely in her room and alone, curled up on her bed with her face to the wall. In a way, that was the easy part. Crying like that, growing dizzier still, at least she couldn't get her mind in order long enough to think clearly. It was just this great unknowable grief, a twisting in the pit of her stomach, in every part of her, horrible but mercifully vague at once. Lying there after, emptied out, she had nothing but her thoughts. Then it settled in her. Then it was real.
Lyla. Tim. Dan. It didn't seem right, it didn't seem possible, that they should all be gone, all three at once, and nothing Chuck said about their getting to go home made it anymore palatable. She couldn't disbelieve him, though, or Jenny or Jason. About this, they had no cause to lie. Lyla and Tim and Dan. She should have done something, she should have said she was sorry, she should have, she should have, she should have... A hundred regrets, and all they did was tangle in on themselves - how cruel, how stupid she'd been, how selfish she was even now. Exhausted, she stared at the wall, unseeing, hands curled into fists against her chest, and the sharp press of her nails against her palms brought a strange comfort. Maybe it was just a simpler pain to bear.