I.
It's all my fault, it really is. You can't blame her. She doesn't know what she's doing, but she knows he's been hurt. You should have seen the way he touched her, when he thought she was sleeping. It's my fault for not protecting her then. It's my fault for bringing him here in the first place.
But she can't go near the others. Not till she's snapped out of whatever fugue she's in.
We'll get out of here, Lisa, you and me. We can do it.
II.
As he orders me to my knees on the worst day of my life, my body responds to the comfortable familiarity of the position. Even more so when he reaches in and pulls on my hair. My body remembers all the secrets I've been keeping. Jack's thinking of secrets too. "What else are you keeping from us," he snarls. I can smell his breath.
And that's when I lose it. Like a dam bursting, all the grief and the loneliness and the resentment that I haven't even noticed I've been feeling, gushing out of my stupid mouth before i can put the brakes on. You never asked. You never even once asked.
As I hear myself, I'm panicking. NEVER a good idea to mouth off to the man holding you at gunpoint. But then again, I don't have very much more left to lose, so why not. If these are my last words, let them be true.
And the strangest thing, as my tirade pours forth: I feel his demeanor change. Have I struck a nerve?
"Haven't you ever loved anyone, Jack?" I ask him, and then I see his expression. And I realize just who he thinks I'm talking about. Oh no.
But he's putting up his pistol. He's letting me up now. One step closer to reaching Lisa, talking her out of this. I know she's in there. We can be like we were before.
It's all I've wanted, so badly for so long.
If I can just get her to remember…
III.
Was I in the pool? I remember speaking with Lisa, begging her, and then…
I awaken to his lips. Then, his eyes. Then, his big American hand, shushing me. No discussion necessary. Like always. Got it. But… his lips.
They feel like life.
IV.
Did I say already that this was the worst day of my life? I had no idea. He used MY pterodactyl. And then he handed me a gun and told me to finish the job.
And I find myself unable. Even behind this white woman's face. Even with what I can see that she's done. Even when she starts in again about the upgrade. God, I can't I can't
and my worthless hide is saved, it seems, by everybody, but first and especially by him. I can't help but scan their faces as they murder my girlfriend. Gwen looks sad about it, poor dear. Tosh looks stern but determined. Owen looks like a right sach blewog.
But he. He looks like a man who's died twice today. Brutal. I suddenly realize I'm looking to him for comfort in this moment. Some flicker of a microexpression that hints of the care he's shown me at…. those times. Please show me that you remember. Kill me next, but please show me I didn't make this up.
His face is impassive. I die.
And then I turn to Lisa, what she left behind, and I die again.
