[center][color=a187be][h1] Allison Revel[/h1][/color][img]http://i.imgur.com/qYQfQN4.gif[/img][/center]

[i]Allison's vision was foggy, everything obscured by a thick haze. She stood underneath a massive oak tree, beside her the wall of an old cabin. From behind her, someone was speaking, though their voice seemed to be muffled, as obscured as her vision was. 

Allison found her self staring down at the ground around the tree, which seemed to have been recently dug up and replaced. Tears rolled down Allison's face, her hands clenched. Everything felt so distant and fake. She found herself turning around to greet a pair of glowing, red eyes. And then the dream faded.[/i]
[hr]

Allison Revel woke up to people murmuring about someone named Benediction. A precursor, apparently, as well as the reason Allison didn't feel like she was dying anymore. Unlike several other people in the room, Allison had no interest in seeking out Benediction. She just wanted to go home, though that meant a room in which she had few freedoms and little privacy now. 

As soon as she was able to get herself out of the infirmary, Allison made her way to her room, walking slowly and carelessly. She was tired, not physically tired, but mentally. She was tired of death, and in a way, of other people. The two things she couldn't escape. Every step she made, she made out of hope, and everything would always come crashing down. It was always Allison's fault. Someone dies, and she never does anything to stop it.

How many was it now? 7? 8?

Allison entered her room and turned on the light. She hadn't actually looked around the room much. She found a bag full of her stuff. She dug around the bag until she found the only change of clothes she had, a tank top and shorts. There was also a men's long sleeve shirt that was much too big for her. Why was that in amongst her stuff? It was the closest thing to a jacket she owned, but she didn't want to wear [i]his[/i] clothes. The stench of death still clung to it. She tossed the shirt to the side. She would need to get rid of that later.

Allison looked at the state of herself. She was still covered in blood and pasta sauce, and her shirt was torn. She needed a shower, and new clothes. Allison hadn't gone shopping for clothes in a long time. Most of her clothes were hand-me-downs, or bought by someone else. Can't really risk shopping when you're trying to hide.

She went to the showers, luckily there was no one there, and relaxed as the blood was washed from her skin. She went to put on her clean change of clothes, realizing that she didn't have any undewear. What kind of idiot doesn't pack extra underwear? She would have to shop for that as well. The next day was going to be hell. She put the not-so-clean underwear back on, and threw on the clean clothes.

Allison made her way back to her room, carrying the bundle of bloody clothes. She would have to get those washed tomorrow, even the shirt that was in tatters. She put the bloody clothes on top of the long-sleeve shirt on the floor. Allison looked over the papers on the desk. The tests were mostly done, she only had a few more pages to go. She sat down and got to work.

Allison was able to finish those last few pages in under an hour, and was feeling considerably more tired. She was ready to go to sleep, but there was also the question of the acquisitions form. Was there anything Allison wanted? She couldn't think of anything off the top of her head. She decided to leave it for tomorrow and went straight to bed. Allison was asleep in minutes.

[hr]
Allison woke up around 8:00AM, and had started moving. She had grabbed something to eat from the cafeteria, and filled out the acquisitions form.

[hider= Allison's Acquisitions form]
-basic profiles of the students who arrived with her
-basic bathroom supplies (soap, shampoo, etc.)
-a cell phone
[/hider]

She delivered the papers to the appropriate office, finishing all of her tasks by 9:00. She had found herself sitting on her bed, looking through one the two notebooks from her bag, a brown one. She hadn't touched the thing in a while. It was small enough to fit in her pocket, and was visibly worn with age. She had had it since she was kid. She flicked through the book until she found the beginning of a list. It was the last page in the notebook that had been written on, less than halfway through the pages.

Absolutes:
1. People die.
2. People are selfish.
3. People will lie.
4.--------------------------
5.----------------------------------
6.----------------------
7. This is -------'s fault.
8. This is my fault.
9.--------------------

Several of the entries were scratched out, to the point of ripping the paper. Allison wanted to prove the little notebook wrong, she wanted to prove everything on that list wrong, but everything she did seemed to prove them more and more right. Why was she looking at this again? A reminder of her failings? A reminder of how weak she was as a person? Wasn't she trying to be confident and friendly before? Who was Allison Revel?

Allison [i]was[/i] the chaste, shy, friendly girl, right? No, that girl is dead. She died along with Tommy, John, Max, Laura, and Will. Allison Revel is not that girl. Allison Revel is the girl who wants to fuck everything that moves. Was that all that Allison was supposed to be now? No, no, no. Don't ignore who you were, just... add to it. Allison had no idea what she meant, but she supposed she would have to figure it out. She needed to go shopping.

Allison placed the notebook into the bag, grabbing the other notebook, which had a black cover, and a pen, and shoving them into her pocket along with her ID card. She left the room and headed out into the town, remembering that her choice in clothing wasn't too great for September.