Josie took a deep breath and looked into the distance, a hand nervously twirling her hair. It was a nervous habit that she could never break -- hair-twirling. It sort of revolted her, the act of twirling her own hair. It reminded her of some brain-dead cheerleader, but here she was, curling a strand of crimson hair around her finger, over and over. She looked over at the log bridge, the river, the dirt road that led to somewhere. Maybe more death, maybe to another fabulous location as illustrated by their provided maps, or maybe even Micky Fucking Dee's. It honestly wouldn't surprise her.
She still couldn't shake Janet's death from her mind, and it made her sick. No, not Janet's death. That
didn't make her sick, it was the fact that Janet was applied to her brain like one of those goddamn temporary tattoos -- hideous and won't come off easily. Josie tried to convince herself that Janet died in a civil way. She was sure that others on the island had witnessed much worse. Josie decided to count herself lucky. She drowned. No blood, no gore, no decapitated heads, no mess. Drowned. I don't think I deal with blood that greatly anyway.
Josie shook her head a final time and looked over at Sierra. She was expecting Sierra to react.. well, differently. She thought Sierra would be as hyped up and upset as she was. Because, well, Josie didn't get upset or hyped up! She rarely raised her voice above a normal level, unless it was to yell or berate someone. Sierra was the emotional one, and Josie was the one who didn't give a fuck. Or.. she thought
that's how it was. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe it was all backwards, and Josie was losing herself.
She had no idea. It was a thought that both terrified her and interested her. Maybe losing oneself wouldn't be so bad afterall.
Josie's mind focused back on Sierra who hadn't acknowledged the body at all. Did it even exist? Was this actually an M. Night Shyamalan movie, and the plot twist was there is no body? Had she just imagined Janet drowning? Or had there even been a Janet or.. Oh shit, she couldn't even recall the other girl's name. It had all just been part of her imagination! Wait, was it Ema? Right, Ema. She felt slightly comforted that she could remember the other girl's name, but that didn't prove much. She was about to ask Sierra to confirm her own sanity, but then...
God, she's like a robot.
Of course she had to mention Omar Shot-Warren-With-His-Own-Gun Burton. The more she stewed on the Warren, the more her mind convinced her that it wasn't some accident. It was possible, sure, but how many accidents occur with taking someone's gun and killing them with it? Her resolve was rock-solid -- Omar Burton was guilty until proven innocent, not the other goddamn way around. She wouldn't let him get near her with a ten foot pole until he proves his innocence! Which.. he probably wouldn't be able to. It would be so easy to lie here. So easy to conjure up a story that tells of one's innocence. So easy to be all, 'Wah wah, that Danya man lied about me.'
I dunno. Sierra doesn't want to hear my suspicions right now. The last thing she'll want is for me to call Omar a killer. I'll play her silly game.
"Yeah, let's find Omar. He'll know what to do," Josie said in a natural sounding voice. She offered a smile and patted her best friend on the shoulder. "But we won't find him here. Let's head out." Pulling out a map, she gazed at it in search of the best location. She put a check mark with her pen on the northern cliffs. Been there, done that. Now, she placed a check mark by the logging road. Where else should they go?
If Omar really was a killer, he'd probably be somewhere with lots of other people. But where were other people? She had no way to figure this out. He could be anywhere! This was like Find Waldo or whatever. She didn't mark out the possibility that Omar could be dead by the time they reached him. And then what? ...Sierra would have no hope. After Omar's death, Sierra would probably rethink the whole cliff-side suicide pact.
Okay, Sierra. Josie decided she would play her game. She would find Omar (or steer away from him to the best of her ability without Sierra realizing it). She would find that little scumbag, and if he tried anything funny, Josie would break his fucking neck with her bare hands.
Fuck you, Omar!! I don't care how much you love Sierra, I'm not letting you near her! I'm the only one she needs! Not some killer!
Placing her things back in her bag, Josie shouldered her bags along with Sierra's and took a few steps forward. She peered back and motioned for her to follow. "C'mon, Omar's awaitin'" And she was off to search for something pleasant. Something that wasn't dead or rotting or murderous. Something great. Not Omar.
((Josie Vernon continued in But I Might Die Tonight