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Shaking herself, she focused on the game and what she needed to do, reasoning that it all stemmed from her desire to be the best. But in this case,hewas the best.
Blue explained to her that this particular mystical beast was allergic to a plantdoryia. As soon as he said the name, though, she remembered she'd collected that a few days prior.
"That's it. You remember now," Blue observed when she removed the plant from her collection.
"How are we going to use it, then?"
"Here," he removed the same rope he'd used to save her, and coming to her side he took the plant from her hands and proceeded to lather it all over the length of the rope.
"Smart," she was forced to admit.
"I'll need your help to circle him with it. Think you can do that, curiouscat?"
"Of course," she huffed.
"Good," he said in an amused voice, followed by strong and sharp directions which she chose to obey rather than question.
She could always bicker with him more later—after her levels went up.
Like he told her, she planted herself on the opposite side of the room, holding one side of the rope while he held onto the other. They both started running just as the beast was set to attack, and in no time the rope started to coil itself around it.
Although a typical rope would have been useless, as seen by the way the beast broke free not a few moments after, the traces ofdoryiaaffected it, making it fall to its knees. Letting out a loud howl, it started writhing in pain before dying.
Right away, one hundred levels arose from its ashes, fifty going to her and fifty to Blue.
"I'll set mine aside for the others."
"Ok," she agreed, ready to split hers with him.
Suddenly, though, he rejected the transfer.
"No. Those are all yours. You earned them."
She hadn't.
But that was all he said. And Noelle had never been more confused.
9Noelle
Despite her initial feeling of being trapped inside her home, Noelle soon found a routine that worked for her—or, all things considered, workedas much as possible.
She would wake up, take her breakfast in her room, read a book and binge watch a show while eating lunch. This would all culminate in her afternoon gaming schedule, dinner and watching another show before bed.
Knowing she wasn't entirely alone helped, too, especially since her brother and Yuyu had gone radio silent after she'd moved upstate.
Once more, she had to wonder if they were as disappointed in her as everyone else.
It hadn't been just her social life that had changed in the blink of an eye. Her mental state had suffered, too—perhaps the worst damage.
She was still fixated on Ann Marie's death and the moment the gun had gone off. She could stillfeelthe blood on her body, sticking to her hair and skin. And she could still smell the stench of death…
Every time she closed her eyes, it was there. Every time she tried to touch the piano keys, she saw them covered in blood.
Lately, all she could see or think about was blood.
Even her media choices all revolved around blood in some capacity—from serial killers, to vigilantes, to gruesome horror shows, she voraciously consumed anything she could find in hopes it could explain what was happening to her. This…sickness that seemed to have taken shape inside of her. For as much as she still replayed the incident in her head, she could still not find it in her to feel guilty for it.
For the way everything had played out? Of course. But not for choosing herself. Not for living.
