I have a bad habit of leaving fics in the process kind of dangling. I'll get back to those soon. Ish.
What do you think your mental state would be if you had to do what I had to do? In a month, I lost my boyfriend, my best friend, and obviously, my own life.
I think all the time, what the fuck was wrong with you, Needy? Why didn't you keep that beautiful girl, your beautiful girl from getting into that fucking rapist mobile? I remember I was pissed. I was pissed at myself for being in love with her, pissed at that band just for existing and distracting her from me, and pissed at her for holding my hand and making me feel like her one-and-only while she was busy eye-fucking guys wearing more eyeliner than her, the whole time knowing I was totally in love with her! Who does that shit?
But who lets their best friend get into a creeper van?
Maybe, if she hadn't gone after Chip, I would have helped keep her alive. I could deal with crazy, PMS-on-steroids Jennifer. I would have helped her kill cows or something, instead of people. I would have done it for her, just to be able to hold her and still feel her. I could have held her tight and kept her safe from hunting people. I would have done that.
But no. She had to target poor Chip. I kind of loved him. I loved her, but I loved him, too. Crazy Jennifer does not outweigh Chip. I always chose Jennifer over him. I always promised her I loved her more. And what happened? It came back to bite me in the ass.
Yeah, she was crazy. Yeah, she wasn't my Jen anymore. She was just a shell. Just Jennifer's body, with a few rare moments of humaness before she got hungry again. But I still hate myself for killing her. I have to live the rest of my life knowing, remembering that I killed my girl. The girl I loved, in a kind of lesbo way.
That look on her face when she died, finally…I'll never forget her eyes. She was nowhere near full, but her eyes glimmered. They looked alive. There was a little bit of my Jennifer, my sweet girl still in there. But I had to do it. I didn't have a choice.
I remember thinking, at the time, about the awesomeness of killing her with a box cutter. She was kind of a cunt. How appropriate that I killed her with a box cutter.
But her eyes… I knew what Jennifer was thinking. Jennifer was hurt. A little bit sorry, even, that she was making me kill her. But you can't just let demons run around, even in a hell-hole place called Devil's Kettle.