Out by sixteen, or dead in this scene, but together forever.
Why did I make that pact? Why was I such a control freak?
Don't listen to that fucking voice. You're different now.
You're right, why am I listening to voices? In fact, why am I even talking to you? I must be going insane…
No you're not, everyone does this.
Are you sure about that?
Yes.
Brigitte moaned softly in her sleep, startling Ginger from her thoughts. But when she looked at her sister resting almost peacefully in her arms, she loosened. A small smile tugged on her lips and then she decided to try sleeping as well. She lifted Brigitte onto her bed. Some of the strength resided inside her still from the infection. What else still resided within her from the infection though? Could the deep voice be the infection itself? Or could it be the messed up part of her psyche? Or even both? She shuddered at the thought of having both the infection and her messed up mind working together. Though, that had already happened, when she turned into the beast, it was the two things working together, seizing her mind and body from the inside. She decided that after she'd awoken she'd ask Brigitte to make her more of the cure so that she could be sure the infection was totally gone. But for that time, she was mostly concerned with sleep…
The sunlight tried its hardest to blaze through the curtains and into their room. Ginger stirred from her restless sleep. Her eyes felt fat, almost like they were bulging from within their sockets.
"B?" she asked with a hoarse voice. The small figure of her younger sister appeared from the bathroom, behind her, the door was still perched against the wall. It startled Ginger to think that she was capable of breaking the door, and that it was her blood on it, and she had scratched into the door. I was only capable of doing that because of the infection had started intruding me with the help of that thing in me.
"Yeah, Ginge?" asked Brigitte.
"I was just checking for where you were," the redhead replied.
"Okay… Are you all right?"
"Yeah, just a little sick," Ginger said, sitting up in the bed. "I suppose I should get dressed, eh?" she asked with a little chuckle. Smiling, Brigitte nodded her head, and then returned to the bathroom.
Yes, Ginger, you should get dressed, the deep voice said inside her head. No! She silently screamed. Why do you keep coming back? Why not? Besides, your reactions to me are always fun. Screw off, she thought irritably. Are you glad that you killed Sam? Silence, then: leave me alone. Truthfully, she hadn't thought about the people she had killed. If the voice had a face, it would have been smiling in triumph.
Trina: she didn't regret her death for sure. But it had put them in a bad position.
Mr. Wayne: was he really what she claimed him to be? No, he was just a teacher concerned with the health of these two girls, annoyingly so, though. He was also going to do the worst thing the girls can imagine, tell Pamela that something is wrong with them. Was it reason enough to kill him though? Perhaps…
The Janitor: by now Ginger was just killing for pleasure. She implied that he was a pedophile, that reason wasn't good enough so she claimed that he found the mess so she had to kill him. She didn't have to, she could have just kept him out of the office. But, no, she decided to kill him. The two deaths at the school could have been avoided. She could have told Mr. Wayne not to phone Pam, but instead she killed him. The Janitor could have been kept out of it.
Sam: to her, he needed to be removed. He was keeping Brigitte from her by helping her mature. At the time she couldn't bear losing B to a guy, to anyone. But she realized something just then: Brigitte had proven to be with her until the very end. She was the one there to see if Ginger was all right, she was the one to get them out of tight situations, she was the one who cleaned up after Ginger, and she even infected herself to prove herself worthy. But she did lock you up, the deep voice said. A spurt of anger flowed through her veins, but then her reasoning came to her. Yes, she did lock me up, but it was to get the cure and for my own protection. How are you so sure that she did it just for those reasons? I'm positive. How so? She came back. She grinned at her accomplishment of shutting the voice up.
Shaking herself out of her mental conversation, she got up and went to the closet to get some clothes. She threw on a black skirt which went to her knees, a green shirt with a frilly collar, and a dark brown button-up hoodie. She reached to her chest, looking for something and realized that her bird-skull necklace was gone.
She walked into the bathroom, finding Brigitte tending the cut on her hand, then asked, "B, do you know where my necklace is?"
"You put it somewhere, I think in the drawer," replied the younger girl. Ginger nodded a thanks and walked out to the chest of drawers, finding everything was askew. She frowned, rummaging through their, her and her sister's, stuff. She found what she was looking for and wrapped it around her neck, clutching it with her eyes closed, her frown turned into a small smile.
I remember when you guys found those skulls. Weren't you the one that killed those poor ravens? No, she growled mentally. There was a cackling laughter that filled her head. Is that so? Then who killed the birds? I don't know, we found them dead out by that park. What park? Oh, that playground that I came and infected you? Ginger cried out.
"Fuck, B!" she said.
"What is it?" Brigitte asked concern in her voice.
"We have to get the fuck out of here."
"I know, but where are we going-"
"Who cares where we go. But the infection is still inside of me. I don't know what's going to happen, but hopefully it isn't strong enough to change me again."
Brigitte sighed and walked into the bedroom and then sat on her sister's bed. She wrung her hands in thought. Ginger followed and sat opposite her, also lost in thought.
What are you? she asked into the abyss of her mind. I am you, the voice said in singsong. No, really, what are you? The infection, you idiot. Tell me how you got into me. When the werewolf, your supposed "Beast of Bailey Downs", attacked you. How are you talking to me? I talk to everyone who lets me. You wouldn't believe the things I was telling your sister's boyfriend, Sam. He wasn't her boyfriend. Is that what you think? Yes. What happened to that part of my mind that made me so messed up? The "cure" killed it. The cure? Yes. It doesn't kill me, I can't be killed, but it kills the part of the host that wants me to be there. What do you tell my sister? Oh, I can't talk to her, yet. Her will to live is too strong for me, but not for long. The cure you injected into her has made her protective wall too strong for me to enter. But she will tire of you, and then the will to have me will appear and she'll go through what you went through last month. No she won't. I won't let it happen. It appears that the part of your fucked up mind hasn't completely died, you control freak. I'm not a control freak, I know this is for her protection. Besides, I probably won't even have to, she's experienced with you. Yes, but she doesn't know it. She will soon… I won't allow you to tell her. You don't have control of me. For now…
"Ginge, I don't know where we can go," Brigitte said, breaking the silence.
"Let's pack up and blow," Ginger replied.
"Kay, we can use Sam's van to get out of Bailey Downs."
"I'll drive."
Brigitte nodded her head, and then stood up.