Paint It Black:: Verse - Tumblr Posts

“And we need to get you to a hospital, now,” She emphasized concern, as she takes an arm and wraps it around her should as she uses herself as a crutch to help him up. She did not see it as relief or a chance to celebrate their victory. The blood is a reminder of time. And another that needs to be taken with an immediate action or serious consequences will fall.

It would’ve reminded her of the blood Jean spilled for her. It was a mirrored memory of what would happen with him if they didn’t get him the help he needed. But she took her time taking him to the truck at the pace he was now. She didn’t want to rush him in his current condition out of concern he could faint and that would be game over.

Looking back at Jason, she gave him a thumbs-up, “Great job tonight. Thanks for that. How you holding up?”

She fell silent at that sentence. That scared her, knowing that would’ve been the consequence for her actions. Actions full of fear that almost killed someone. It would’ve been Jean all over again, and then what she do? That couldn’t be fixed. 

Starting up the truck, she looks back at him, she knows he’s not her. She couldn’t help it. Just for a moment, she wonders if she can fix her mistakes. To try and become better instead of letting her fear consume her. However because of tonight, because of him, she has hope for the first time. Maybe she’s wearing her heart on her sleeve too much.

“...I don’t intend to run again. At least not for a while. Not after tonight.”

With that, she drives off, away from the diner, from the scene of what transpired tonight. She’s driving past the speed limit but at the same time, she prays to whatever god’s at there to let them make it in time.

She keeps her eyes on the road, but even at night with her scars covered in all that makeup and her eye hidden by a contact lens, it’s starting to become difficult to keep a clear focus. 

But she keeps driving even if they zoomed past the cops. They had more pressing matters over at the dinner, that focusing on them would be a waste of time. Sometimes she inspects JD, making sure that he doesn’t pass out. She peers over from her shoulder checking on Jason. 

She doesn’t know how to worry for herself, and cannot stop worrying for the two with her now. She hasn’t been able to do so in a while even with her. Part of her is hopeful she’ll learn to one day. But the other part of her feels so stuck in in this habit of hers. But she’s hopeful.

Eventually in the dead of the dark night, they eventually made it to a hospital. Pulling up to the parking lot, she stops the truck. Unbuckling her seat belt, she walks around the front of the truck, preparing to help take him to the ER, despite feeling so drained and exhausted herself.

“He’s bleeding out bad,” She says to the nurse, as the concern in her voice raised. She doesn’t let go of him, only letting his arm slide away but keeping a hand on his hand. It’s only when she looks down does she notice the blood caked on her hands. Blood that came from JD, who she also knows now of as James 

The fresh ones overlapped with the dried bits and in seeped into her fingernails. Her hands start to tremble at the sight of it. The gravity of everything that had transpired was starting to set in. Not now, not when he’s almost getting help.

But she takes a couple deep breathes and thinks of memories with John. Conversations that happened those years back help to keep her legs from trembling. Keeping her hand wrapped around his, helped to calm her nerves if only until they take him away to help him, to get him the treatment he needs.

She watches as the blood drip from the bag. When she hears the doctor’s good news, her whole body relaxes from the heart-pounding adrenaline. Her hand relaxes but it stills stays wrapped around JD’s hand. It’s support to her, but she couldn’t remember the last time she had contact. 

The simple kind, like holding hands. Minus having to undergo a life or death situation. Simple things like that made her bones and her heart ache

But it was over now and she could leave to wipe her hands off the blood. Problem was, she didn’t know how to let go. And part of her was afraid something bad would happen. That some other danger would arise.

But another part of her is desperately screaming self-assurance. That she’s safe, and the trouble is over.

                                     Sometimes the ONLY pay off 

                                     for having any FAITH,

                                                      is when it’s tested 

                                                       again 

                                                              &&

                                                                   again 

                                                    EVERYDAY

“Not really...no,” She answers. “Considering we just made it through a near death experience.”

“Right now, Michael isn’t my biggest concern. It’s just...This really brought up a really bad time I went through...And Jean, a girl I cared for lot ended up dying at Camp Sleepaway,” She shakes, her breath trembling as she brings up only a shard of what happened at Camp Sleepaway. It was all in the newspapers and in whatever segments covering the events. How she survived at the hands of the killer and ended up testifying against him. Or whoever they were. 

“Almost like you did tonight.” She sighed leaning forward. She finds disappointment in herself, that this may be the only time she’ll ever tell the truth about her sordid past is when someone almost died in front of her.

"Is he like you? A hunter?” She asks, looking around for a phone.

“It’s ok I’m pretty sure you had no intention of getting stabbed tonight,” She assures. “Just be a little more careful next time.”

“But yeah. It was difficult. I spent a lot of time trying to hide who I was and making sure nobody knew about it. I spent a lot of time avoiding people after that. I started thinking that I was cursed, that if anyone started caring and loving me then they’d get hurt too.”

“Hence,” She continued as she used the back of her sleeve to wipe the prosthetic makeup on her face. It revealed burns she had suffered from that night. “Why I graduated in Prosthetic Makeup Effects in college.” 

She also took out the contact lens in her eye, and it revealed a dull black colored eye contrasting the other eye, one that had vibrant blues swirling. It wasn’t a matter of showing the full extent, but rather that the contact in her eye was starting to bug her to an extent that couldn’t be ignored as she slides the contact back into a case.

“I have more of these on my left arm, but I won’t bore you with that,” She concludes as she pulls out her own phone, offering it to him.

“What should I do about Jason though? If you dad comes I mean.”

“I also go by Dana, but yeah that’s me,” She whispers, keeping quiet to prevent JD waking, turning to see the newcomer, one of his friends. 

She had her bomber jacket on, and her makeup reapplied in the little time she had before he came. But not enough to apply any on her arm, hence the bomber jacket. But it was cold as well, given that it’s almost November.

“You must be one of his friends,” She assumes, as she walks toward the indicated space, looking back at Jason and JD, checking on them before turning back to him. 

“Sure. What do you wanna talk about, while we still have the time?”

“It’s nice to meet you, Del.” 

“Sometimes I have to keep in mind that Jason drowned as a kid because of negligence by both the kids and the counselors,” She argued. “Personally, I’d have every right to be angry because my death could’ve been avoided. That and those responsible never faced justice or took responsibility for their actions.”

She took thought of his words though. Even though it was Michael that nearly killed JD, there could be no chances. Even though the fact that she’s still alive is remarkable. Especially considering Del and JD knew Marcus better. Sighing, this was something that needed to be done, even if she didn’t like it.

“But considering you know Marcus better, that’s probably a good idea,” She admits. She then whistles to Jason, then signs to him.

‘Go inside. Leave your weapons in the trunk. Write a note to the person at the front desk saying you can’t talk, and grab something to drink. I’ll come in and get you when we’re done talking. Sound good?”

“...That is gonna need a lot of coffee for that one. But for one thing, he kicked Michael’s ass last night. I’m not dead yet either and we’ve been traveling for a couple months at the very least.”

“He’s probably the only reason we’re still alive considering alive. Maybe roll with that?” She asks. Scratching the back of her head, she’s starting to consider that it may be a little more difficult than it seemed. 

She’s starting to wonder if there’s a correlation between the number of deceased parents and a knack for hunting the unknown. But she brushes that aside to think more of how to deal with this situation, especially now that another of his friends is coming at any second. It may take more time even if they all come up with a plan, so as to apply it better.

“It’s no problem though it was mostly Jason,” She answers humbled standing her ground, nonchalantly pointing at the room. “I’ve been well aware since last night. Here’s hoping my hiding spot keeps him hidden long enough.”

She stays quiet. It wasn’t her place, she had no deceased parents to relate to, but she had lost Jean. So death seemed to be a prevalent theme among the society of hunters. A part of their lives that intertwined into this very moment. She didn’t take notice of the necklace, but she does express mutual feelings. 

“I think mine would be appreciative of that but also me and someone else protecting each other rather than have it one-sided. That way we both keep each other safe.”

She has nothing of her parents except the bomber jacket on her back. It belonged to her step-dad. It’s passed to her now, becoming an heirloom and a reminder of where she came from. Good for the cold fall and when she’s wearing a halter top.

“Well, hopefully, he appreciates it in the form of a punk and a camp killer. ‘Cause I’m not sure what will happen if this doesn’t work.”

“Welcome back to the land of the conscious then.” She waves back at him with a smile.

She looks back at Kait, taking a second look at all the little details she didn’t see before. Dana’s details included facial piercings near the eyes and the bottom lip, with the studded boots and the ripped shorts. The streaks in her hair, however, were natural. A result of emotional stress all those years back. But Kait’s little details were enough to give her Dana’s nod of approval, even though those two were far apart on the punk spectrum, one thing is clear; she’s keeping it for a long time.

“Good to know.”

She chuckled at the mention of Jason rummaging through her bags. If someone were to take off the serial killer, he’d just be one big kid. She isn’t too bothered, as long as it wasn’t her personal bag then she’s fine with it. Although if they started hanging out together after this, then she’d need to start teaching them to sign language for the sake of understanding Jason.

Though she’s curious about the mentioning of ‘super-powered’ teens she doesn’t bother to ask at the mentioning of limited time.

“So we’re all in agreement then? That we’re rolling with the ‘Jason protected JD’ angle right?”

Don’t go.

To myself,

I’m sorry I couldn’t complete you.

I’m sorry for the scars I gave you.

I’m sorry for the words I can’t take back.

I’m sorry I couldn’t love you.

I’m sorry,

Home is any place you feel muchly, dearly, and unconditionally loved.

juansen dizon (via juansendizon)

Quietly watching them leave for the room, she takes a lot of thought into that part also hoping Kait and Del get along with Jason, despite the lack of vocal language. Looking back at JD, she gives him an answer, one she’s still unsure of, because, for the first time, she’s afraid of what he thinks of her now.

“Well...There was this one guy, but I’m pretty sure given what I know about him, I don’t know if he’s even a hunter,” She answered, her fingers twiddling nervously. 

“His name... is John. We shared a couple classes in college after Camp Sleepaway, one of the popular kids. He grew up in a small town in Georgia, and we got pretty close despite our vast differences,” She added somewhat hesitant, explaining both him and their history. 

 “I never told him about what happened so I really kept him in the dark about me. And like I mentioned, I was super terrified of falling in love and getting someone killed because of me,” she said indicating her deep-seated fear of losing a loved one at the hands of a monster.

“I’m not really sure what he’s doing though. He’s probably in Custard’s Grove. Maybe he’s forgotten all about me at that point,” the last part she mumbled, unsure of how he’d feel about her at that point. She does feel regret, the feelings she felt while thinking of him last night started to come back. 

“Truth be told... you’re probably the only person who I really told what happened at Camp Sleepaway. Outside of my parents.”

Her expressions softens even further as she listens although the trembling does stop. Another commonality links them in unspoken confessions to their respective loved ones. He is right though, she can’t keep it in the dark anymore. She has to tell him. Otherwise she’ll be alone while he’s there with someone else and she’ll continue to be paralyzed and stuck in her fears. 

Even if he didn’t reciprocate the honesty, she thinks it would be better if he were to still know of her past and how it affected her. Maybe then her curse will be lifted and she can live without one fear at least.

“I’ll do that if I see a chance. Thanks.” She looks in his direction and sees the same thing. The van, but not his father at a far distance. Her contact didn’t do much to help with that.

“I guess it’s showtime then,” She states as she walks towards the van. Keeping her hands in her pocket, she decides to take the initiative to meet the man that was JD’s father.