ꜱʟɪᴘᴘɪɴɢ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴍʏ ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀꜱ┃ɪꜱᴀʙᴇʟʟᴀ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴇɪɢʜᴛ: ᴀʙꜱQᴜᴀᴛᴜʟᴀᴛᴇ

"You alright?" my voice has gone soft, and I hold out my hand for her to take. She takes a quick glance at it, and stands up herself, dusting off her white skirt and stockings. Beneath it are two button-downs, a cardigan, and four undershirts. Underwear and socks are stuffed in our pockets. As many layers of clothing as we could wear were draped off our figures.

"No wasting time," she declares. She's up and headed towards the door in seconds. My smile drops. I shut the door behind us, because no one else will. Rest well, Leslie.

We walk from the house and trudge through the forest. It's a cool night, not as bad as the day Isabella nearly froze, but still cold. It's threatening, like calm before the storm. I know I'm paranoid, but I run forwards anyway to catch up with Isabella and grip her hand. She's the one shaking, I find. Her hand is loose in mine, I almost wish she'd hold it too tight. It's funny what we complain about when everything is sunny.

We come to a sudden stop at the wall. From that point, I know what to do, technically. I grab the rope from the tree and haul it up to the top of the wall. I tie the blanket into a makeshift bag and throw what we grabbed from the house inside. Then, Isabella.

"Ready?" It's not really a question of if she's ready to escape- I'm already helping her up. I want to know if she's ready for a new life, not necessarily a better one, but a freer one.

I receive an answer when she pushes herself up to the wall and stares blankly out at the horizon of trees and sky beyond us. Her vacant look morphs into a slight fear within seconds. It's the shock wearing off. I want to tell her everything's ok, but I can't. When I saw the trees on the other side of the cliff, I saw an opportunity. She looks like she's being held at knifepoint. How can I tell her everything's going fine when she's obviously on the verge of a meltdown? I can't, so I don't.

"Hand me that rock" is what I say instead. She presses her lips into a line, and hands me the medium-sized rock. I tie it to the end of the rope. Mustering up my inner baseball player, I pitch the rock as far as I can, aiming towards the branch of a sturdy oak on the other side. Miraculously, it does what it's supposed to, and wraps the rope around. It's the small victories that matter.

Jumping down to the oak on our side, I tie the rope around the same branch we used to get atop the wall. You're ignoring her again. My thoughts are loud, and yeah, I guess I am. So I build myself up and walk over to her. I can't be making the same mistakes.

"Look, Isabella, what can I do to make you feel ok?"

She swallows, "can we maybe..slow down?"

My eyebrows knit and I'm taken aback. Slow down? She wants to slow down?

"I don't think I understand, can you say it differently?"

"God- (y/n), what's hard to get? I'm not ready for this!" she aggressively points to the other side. Overwhelmed. She's overwhelmed. But what can I do? You don't stop riding the bike when you're almost up the hill. My stomach churns, and the tablecloths in my hands- the ones we were going to use to zipline across- seem damp with sweat from my hands

"We're almost there. Please Isabella, just trust me." Isabella chokes up.

There's a snapping branch behind me, and I turn. This isn't happening. Mother is standing at the base of the wall, compass in hand, and a serene smile on her face. Isabella gives a sharp inhale.

"GO!" I scream, I throw one of the tablecloths at her. I'm shaking with stress.

"Please go first (y/n), I'm scared," Isabella is shaking too, and crying, on top of it. In her fist, the tablecloth is terribly wrinkled. Her fist is white around it. I don't think twice, and position my cloth on the rope. Inhaling deeply, I run forward in the direction of the rope. At first, I feel the pounding of my feet, then, a drop. I'm holding my own weight as I fly across the rope towards the oak. My feet hit the branch with intensity, and the scalpel on my hip digs into my pelvis.

As soon as I'm stable, I look to the wall again, anticipating Isabella to be on the line. Instead, I watch her back slowly depart from the rope, and the tablecloth is dropped. The world is silent, and moving heartbreakingly slow. She doesn't look back at me.

I feel like screaming, and crying, and rubbing my hands in shattered glass, and burning my eyes, and peeling my skin, and ripping hair out of my skull. None of it could compare to the agony I was experiencing, but the potential energy was there. Once again there was a hole in my heart, and I could do nothing but watch her walk away. The stars are missing tonight.

♡♡♡

【Vault】

✘ Leslie and (y/n) were aware of each other's crushes on Isabella.

✘ Before Isabella and (y/n)'s escape attempt, there were trees near the wall. They were cleared out afterward.

♡♡♡

WC: 1445

Ugh, your author is tired. Can't believe I reread Alamort for this shit. Anyways, here it is. I wanted to make sure this chapter was semi-decent because it's important. Also, Mitski does stuff to your emotions, lemme tell ya.

 I didn't realize I was putting this off until I logged back into Wattpad to see that this story has 1.1k views. What the fuck? Y'all are seriously amazing. I can't thank you enough for giving this shit-show a chance. I don't know if people usually have 1k specials, but if you have an idea in mind (like a oneshot ) I can definitely do that! Just let me know.

SO MANY KISSES BC I LOVE ALL OF YOU,

rem <3