Hey everyone! Here is a very angsty Taylor fic.
Enjoy
She's just so tired of waiting. It feels like if she waits any longer she'll explode. But it's always going to be that way. It's just the way things were.
She's tired of waiting for this damn plane, or helicopter, or boat, or whatever to show up and rescue them. To finally let them live their lives again, but they've been here for two months and she's sure no one believes they'll get off this island, that their plane crash was now just a mere thought in anyone's mind. She's lost her hope in ever being rescued just like they have lost theirs in her.
She doesn't like the way her throat aches, or the way her eyes sting. In fact, she hates it for making her feel so weak. She may be self centered, and lazy, and annoying but she isn't weak. She's never been weak. So she decides she hates everything about this stupid field trip that was supposed to end months ago. It ruined her life.
She knows she's going to lose it because her hands are shaking and she has a strong urge to scream, and she hasn't in awhile. So, she invitingly lets it.
The scream is so loud. Louder than the crashing ocean waves, and salty smelling breeze. And she wants it to sound mad and powerful, but it comes out sad and pathetic making her cringe at the sound of her own voice.
Really she wants to stop. That's all she's ever really wanted to do. Stop working, stop trying so hard to survive, stop fighting over who should hold the power of leader. Just stop all the madness. She wonders if the act she puts up is worth it all. Worth all the glares and snarky comments she receives, but she knows it's a stupid thought. The mask she puts on is the only thing keeping her sane on this island. It makes her feel safe and in her mind safe was better, easier.
Maybe if her dad wasn't so rich and blind, didn't care so much about his money. Maybe if people gave her the time of day she wouldn't be so heartless and cold. Her soul wouldn't be so empty. She might feel something other than loneliness and not want to take the easy way out, she would be smart enough to not have to.
Somewhere in her mind she knows she should stop screaming. It's probably confusing the other 8 victims of Flight 29. Making them wonder why she isn't somewhere trying to get a nice sun tan or screwing something up. Not caring about if they survive or not.
Eventually her mind wins and she stops. Taking a second to survey the confusion she knew would be etched into their tired features. They'll ask me 'what's wrong', she thinks.
"Wha-", but she cuts off the owner of the voice quickly not wanting to hear the overused sentence.
"I'm fine."
And with those final words she leaves them all standing on the sandy beaches together to ponder over her words. Though she knows they won't understand.
"No one ever does," she mumbles almost inaudibly to herself and walks off into the trees.
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