OC snippets

Polybuis; In which a change cabinet does not store change.

And then there was the train crash. Just 10 years ago, a bus carrying over 50 people crashed near Lansing, Michigan. On that bus was Michigan State University professor, Maurice Localine, High schooler Kasey Localine, and Culinary Student Daphney Localine. They apparently had made a habit of going on the same bus together since Kasey started high school. Their mother had said it started with anxiety about riding alone at first, but developed into a routine after his sophomore year. They were very close, from what Beth gathered. How ironic they would die the same way they lived.

Memorials had been built since, and the news had covered it enough that you would struggle to find anything else on at the time, but no matter what documentaries or films or local news outlets reviewed the tragedy, the exact cause of the crash was never found. Some said it was an issue with the breaks, others speculated the driver wasn't in their right mind. A few people even suggested it was an accident. Regardless, the tragedy had left one Localine Sibling alive. A 5 year old girl named Leselliene.

Each tragedy happened 10 years apart. The 10 year anniversary of the last incident was fast approaching, as well as Beth's final chance. Aside from the morality of the whole thing, this kid staying alive for just one more year could change everything. If she was right about this, that is. There was a possibility, like there always is, that she was wrong. That none of these events tie together, that she misheard or jumped too quick and wishful thinking had carried her halfway to a happy ending.

In the end she supposed that's why she was here. To prove something. To confirm that all of this was worth her time and effort, a concrete fact she could believe in.

She didn't know what she would do if she was wrong.

"Hey!" Leslie anxiously pushed her way through the door, causing it to slam a bit on the wall behind her. Beth jumped at the noise and turned around a lot quicker than she had meant to to respond to the new thing in the room. She could see Leslie flinch in return, and then immediately straighten herself. She was avoiding eye contact, and trying very hard to make it seem like she wasn't. After a second or two, she continued.

"So I just checked and apparently my manager isn't here today. So um. I guess it's just you and me here right now." She went for a nervous laugh, aimlessly tugging at the ends of her blue work vest. She was still looking away from Beth.

"Guess that means I've got free reign?" Beth crossed her arms absently, drifting over to where Leslie was stood outside the employees only door. She was attempting to make her gaze as unaccusing as possible, though from how anxious the poor teenager was getting she had a feeling she was failing. She had a tendency to do that when she was tired. That is is to say, she always ended up doing it. She couldn't remember a time she was free from bone-deep fatigue.

"Um, yeah, I.. think. Do you.. need a minute to get your tools oorr..?" Leslie took this moment to attempt to retain eye contact, her gaze darting anxiously down at the woman in front of her. She was still fidgeting with the hem of her vest, trying to distract herself from how much she disliked holding eye contact with this lady, especially when she was being stared at like she'd been caught red-handed.

The woman, Beth, she reminded herself, was doing that thing again when she'd asked her about being paid for her time. Her eyes had gone misty and absent, and Leslie contemplated asking the question again for the fear she hadn't heard. But, eventually, her thoughts were collected, and..

"Hm? Oh. No. All I really need is a screwdriver."
Beth made a noncommittal grunting noise as she shoved her hand in her hoodie pocket, a dull series of muffled clinks and shuffles eminating from within the dull grey fabric. Managing something close to a smile, she brandished a battered red screwdriver.

"..Alright then. Follow me, it's just through here." Leslie fumbled with her keyring for a moment, removing it from its place on her belt with a hasty series of jingles. She quickly thumbed through the keys available, looking for the one with the little triangle hole in the top. She'd memorized the key to the back room after last time. God Leslie was glad she was the only person here, if anyone else had been present to watch how bad she was failing at talking to this woman she guaranteed she would've been halfway to tears by now.