Y'know what happens when you give the government a chance, Sam? More than ninety-nine percent of life on Earth dies. And they don't just drop dead where they stand, no sir. They suffer. The lucky ones only have to go through it for a few days, but the ones who hang on for a few weeks... Every breath they take, they're swellin' up more and more, full of mucus and pus until you don't recognize 'em because they look more like a pissed-off bullfrog than a human. They suffocate to death, real slow, and there ain't nothin' you can do to help 'em. You ever see thousands of dead bodies, Sam? You ever had to cover up the kids and babies with every sheet and towel you can find? Because I have. And you know what the government, the politicians, was doin' while I was doin' that? They were tellin' us it was just a flu. That it would go away soon. They took the internet down, so we couldn't talk about it. And the whole time it was happenin', they knew, they knew, what they did. They made Captain Trips and they let it get loose, and while the president and all his lil' cronies were gettin' pumped full of morphine so they could die in peace, they left us to fend for ourselves. These people aren't any different than that, they just have magic to cover up their shit better.
[ She's been getting progressively more worked up as she speaks, and by the end, there are tears streaming down her cheeks, her voice choked and thick, her hands flung out to the sides, stuck from wildly gesturing the whole time. This is what Julie sees when she closes her eyes, when she sleeps, when she's not actively occupying herself or shoving various poisons into her body to try and quell it. The memories don't fade; the stench of thousands of rotting corpses is forever seared into her nostrils, the sound of their gasping for breath permanently echoing in her ears. She can hardly remember what it was like to not know.
And she hasn't even mentioned the fact that she's already died.
Once she finishes, it's like the wind has been knocked out of her, and her arms fall limp to her sides, her voice breaks. ]
I don't get to go back home. Ever. This is all I got left, Sam. If they take it from me over that stupid rock... where am I supposed to go?
cw just because this is real pandemic-y
[ She's been getting progressively more worked up as she speaks, and by the end, there are tears streaming down her cheeks, her voice choked and thick, her hands flung out to the sides, stuck from wildly gesturing the whole time. This is what Julie sees when she closes her eyes, when she sleeps, when she's not actively occupying herself or shoving various poisons into her body to try and quell it. The memories don't fade; the stench of thousands of rotting corpses is forever seared into her nostrils, the sound of their gasping for breath permanently echoing in her ears. She can hardly remember what it was like to not know.
And she hasn't even mentioned the fact that she's already died.
Once she finishes, it's like the wind has been knocked out of her, and her arms fall limp to her sides, her voice breaks. ]
I don't get to go back home. Ever. This is all I got left, Sam. If they take it from me over that stupid rock... where am I supposed to go?