Thomas touches his face, the little mark right under his eye that I've noticed before, but always assumed to be a scar from a childhood accident or something. I never would've guessed that it came from a knife, especially not one wielded by his sister.
Again, for a long time, all I can do is stare. And try to process.
None of it sounds real is the thing. It sounds like some kind of horror movie or a Stephen King novel, the kind that Coach likes. But if there's one thing I've learned about Darrow and the people stuck here, it's that everything is possible, everything is real. Especially the stuff that sounds completely impossible.
"That's, uhm... that's a lot," I finally manage. "Why was Lucille-- Why..." I trail off if only because I don't know exactly how to finish the question. "Did... Does Edith know you tried to help her?"
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2016-05-25 04:00 pm (UTC)Again, for a long time, all I can do is stare. And try to process.
None of it sounds real is the thing. It sounds like some kind of horror movie or a Stephen King novel, the kind that Coach likes. But if there's one thing I've learned about Darrow and the people stuck here, it's that everything is possible, everything is real. Especially the stuff that sounds completely impossible.
"That's, uhm... that's a lot," I finally manage. "Why was Lucille-- Why..." I trail off if only because I don't know exactly how to finish the question. "Did... Does Edith know you tried to help her?"