~:Chapter 44:~

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Claire listened to the announcement play, feeling the color drain from her face. It felt like it hadn't been long since Amelia and Claire started their search. Yet, how long were they there for? Claire didn't know. All she knew was that the killing was back into the game, and she was in the middle of the theatre wing, which was the equivalent of being circled by bloodthirsty sharks in the middle of the ocean. Running around alone, screaming, was far too dangerous. She knew she needed something, anything, to defend herself. Otherwise, she was dead. She could barely escape with Zach, so getting out of here alive would be even more complicated this time. She sighed, hoping Amelia was at least safe.  

She had lost track of her once the screams had stopped, which wasn't exactly the biggest concern for worry, as many of the rooms, especially the theatre, were soundproof. So, it gave Claire an idea of where to look, but without a weapon, she'd rather not.

Immediately, she felt herself regretting even tagging along with Amelia. She had told herself that this was nothing more than suicide essentially, and she still followed her heart, only for it to lead her here. She balled up her fists in frustration, wanting to yell at herself for being this stupid. Now that she thought about it, she couldn't even understand why she'd let herself return. All for some boy who she barely even knew? Better yet, she was helping that boy's girlfriend find him. At this point, she was more angry than scared. Of course, at this moment, she was terrified, only keeping it together by her angry thoughts, yet, she felt like once again, she contradicted herself.

She thought she was on a path to independence. Yet, here she was again, throwing herself in the face of danger for someone else and letting their thoughts on her control what she did and when she did it. Claire wanted to look out for herself, yet, the line between selfishness and self-care was far too blurry for her eyes, which she didn't fully understand.

She paused, standing in the middle of the hallway. Her mind immediately flashed back to her conversation in one of the many dressing rooms. That was the first time she fully felt understood, like, the woman in black had looked deep into her soul, analyzing all of her thoughts and bringing the repressed issues to light. Something which Claire thought she needed.

"Gah..." Claire grunted. Was she contradicting herself again? Did she need the comfort and validation of yet another person? She didn't get it. Why couldn't she be independent? Why couldn't she do what she wanted to do? Why did she have all these urges to be nothing more than a servant for others? Why did she let everyone walk all over her?

She felt the questions swarm her brain like wasps, each stinging her and sending another jolt of emotional discourse through her body. It was almost too much to handle like she couldn't think straight through the haziness that her endless confusion brought on by her questions about herself. In the end, she did think it was ironic. She felt like she barely knew herself for someone who was supposed to know her the best.

She stared at the floor as one question stood out in particular.

What did she want?

She thought about it for a moment. 

"Wait," Claire whispered to herself. "Is this... what I want?" She asked herself aloud, coming to a sudden epiphany. Claire finally understood her misunderstanding. It wasn't that she was letting people walk all over her, pushing her into doing what they wanted her to do. Instead, it was what she wanted. Claire wanted to save Adam. Claire wanted to help Amelia. It was all that she wanted, not what others wanted. She immediately smirked, finally understanding as she paced down the hallway.

"Alright, just got to find a weapon." She said with a smirk.

"PLAYER EIGHT ELIMINATED."

"Please don't be Amelia..." Claire whispered.

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