[center][color=#ead2b2][h3]Darlene Kate Revie[/h3][/color][/center][right][color=silver]Various locations: Albuquerque, NM
August 27, 2016[/color][/right]Perhaps under different circumstances, she would have felt bad for Duncan. She might have noticed the pained way he looked. Would have felt bad for revealing to him that she hadn't needed his key. But she merely listened to his advice without any emotion showing on the outside, and once he was finished she turned to leave. [color=#ead2b2]"Thanks."[/color] The words were only a formality. Spoken without feeling.

Darlene didn't have much to prepare for her departure, so it didn't take her long once returning to Duncan's base to gather her stuff... along with a bike, some vegetables, ammunition, and a Go Bag. She considered not taking anything, but practicality won. He didn't need all this, and he had told her to take it. She wandered around the nearby area until she found a good car that Duncan hadn't taken for himself yet, hotwiring it and loading her stuff in. 

On a map she found in the car, she marked down the approximate location of Duncan's base before driving to her broken down car and getting her items from there too. 

Then she was ready. 

Darlene drove for hours, not sure where she was going even though she was somewhat following Duncan's directions without realizing it. All she knew was that she was going away. To be alone. Again. For how long? Perhaps forever. Her thoughts flew back to the prayer that Duncan had recited to her. Was there really a heaven that she would make it to when she died? Or was it hell for her? Was there really such a thing? 

She didn't want to think. She was tired of thinking. Dwelling on everything: the happy past that lived no longer, the tragic past, the tragic present, doubts of how capable she really was, doubts of what was real, what could be done. Spending time alone meant being alone with her thoughts all day, for weeks and then for months. But even when she had at last found someone... she hadn't been able to stand it. 

Where was that social part of her? The one who spent hours talking with friends either in person or online?

[i]Where?[/i]

Where was the happy her? Still riding in her car, Darlene let out a mirthless laugh. [i]Gone.[/i]

Or not. 

Apparently some part of her still hoped for [i]happy[/i], huh? With all that stupid hoping that Duncan would have been some... untainted person, even if him being untouched by all the unhappiness during the Plague would have meant that he would not have been able to understand what she had gone through. Stupid.

Darlene's thoughts ran on for hours as she drove, until the sun set and she pulled over to the side. Transferring her belongings from the trunk to the front passenger seats and passenger seats, she curled up in the trunk for the night.
[hr][hr][center]>  >  T i m e   S k i p  >  >[/center][hr][hr][right][color=silver]August 30, 2016: Sundown[/color][/right]Sleep. Eat. Drive a little if she felt like it. Think. Cry. Sob. Lament. Sleep. Eat. Drive. 

Again. Again. And Again.

The same things done over and over for three days, but she didn't care. Didn't know where exactly she was going, as long as her supplies lasted. 

But when Darlene woke up from a nap to see the sun setting, she paused. Actually paused properly, with her senses about her instead of zoned out of reality. She looked at the sun, about to disappear. Forced herself to look at it and not block out the memories as they came flooding in. 

[i]"Isn't it so pretty? Some claim that there's no difference between sunrise and sunset, that it's all the same. But you know what? They're different. Sunrises? Those who like sunrises better lack strength, and for that I will always pity them. Sure, they have a point. A new day, right? But it takes[/i] strength [i]to look at the sun setting, the star that keeps us alive, and keep smiling as it fades away. Because they have faith that it will come again, and so they embrace that part of the cycle. They don't cry for the sun to come back... they... they watch peacefully as it slips away. They love to watch it slip away. You know what I mean?"[/i]

She hadn't understood. She had always been a sunrise kind of person. 

She had nodded anyway.

[i]"You're going to have to be strong now, Darlene. It's not going to be easy. We may not all make it through. But you have to find your fire somewhere, I know you have it in you. And even when the sun has set, you need to keep burning. Got it?"[/i]

She had nodded. Believed she could do it.

[i]"I'm scared of the dark, 'lene. Can I sleep with you? Please?"[/i]

A hand flew up to where the leather pouch had always lay. When Darlene felt nothing lying there, she panicked. Where was it? She spent a minute that felt like eternity looking for the small item that meant so much to her, at last finding it buried under one of her bags. Where she had cast it, not wanting to remember. 

She made herself slow down so as to carefully take the folded papers out, so as not to tear it by accident. The creases were soft and worn from being unfolded and folded many times, and it was with the utmost care that she smoothed the paper flat. The moment she saw the young face staring out at her from the pages, she burst into tears. 

There was her sister. Her father. Mother. Friends. The faces and characteristics of all those close to her who were gone, preserved carefully on sheets of white. That was all that was left on them. The drawings weren't perfect, some parts a little lopsided, some parts drawn in a shaky hand. But they were still pretty good likenesses of the people she had been trying to draw, and she had captured their expressions well-- happy, sad, angry, thoughtful...

She was living, [i]scraping[/i] an existence out of life by depending on these sheets to carry her through the night. 

When there was a very alive person some miles back. Whom she had left without a second thought. 

[i]"You will be welcome back if you choose to do so. But I won’t be here much longer."[/i]

Not much longer. 

[i]"I don’t know what your problems are." 

"... leave your problems in the desert."[/i]

She couldn't leave her problems in the desert. Her so called "problems" consisted of people who were now gone, and she would not leave them. She carried them with her always. But perhaps she could leave her current mentality in the desert. Try to become strong? Like everyone had told her to be?

Reaching over to draw a blank sheet of paper from one of her bags, she got out a purple pen. There were things she needed to tell him, things that she was afraid she might mess up if she tried to speak them to him. So she would write.

She spent the all the time until all the light faded writing in her small neat script. By the time she was finished the page was dotted with some tear stains, and many words were crossed out and rewritten. In the end though, she ended up with this:

[hider=Letter][s]Dear[/s] [s]Hello[/s] 
Duncan,

I know it must seem pathetic, [s]me[/s] my coming back after only a few days when I said I was leaving. I'll leave again if you don't want me to stay.

I did a lot of thinking during the days I was gone. I thought so much about the past. What can't be changed. What is long gone. I dwell too much on the past, I will admit that. But when it was the only thing I had to keep me going... the memories of people I used to have by my side... I couldn't forget. Otherwise, I don't think I would have been able to make it this far. Without my memories... [s]I wouldn't be alive.[/s] I might not have made it down to New Mexico. 

The point is, I thought so much about the past that I didn't even appreciate what was in the present. The fact that there is you, another living being. The fact that you were so welcoming. All I thought about was how you weren't an [s]idealistic[/s] ideal [s]person[/s] [s]being[/s] companion for me. Because me, in my, yes, my... I don't know how to describe it, me, in my strange ways, wanted someone who would be "normal". Because I'm tired of thinking about tragedies. I didn't want you bringing more sadness in. Didn't want to have to look at you and, each time, think about what you have done and endured.

It's funny though, because though I tell myself I'm tired of thinking about the sad things that have happened, I can't let go.

I'm not going to leave my problems in the desert. Because my problems, they consist of the fact that the people I loved are no longer here. But as I said, memories of them kept me going. 

So I'm not leaving them behind.

But I want to add you to my stash of memories. [s]I want to draw you.[/s] I want to add the present to the past. I want to be able to move on (without forgetting), and if you'll let me, I want to remain in the same area as you. I don't know how much help I can be, but I can try. I'm not entirely useless. I'm not going to be able to be so cheerful as you are. I may sometimes fail in my goal, and I'll think too much about the past. I might need alone time. But I'll try. 

Does that sound unconvincing? The flimsy word: try? I'm sorry. That's all I can offer. 

[s]Hopefully,[/s]

Sincerely,
Darlene Kate Revie[/hider]

[hr][hr][center]>  >  T i m e   S k i p  >  >[/center][hr][hr][right][color=silver]August 31, 2016: Mid-afternoon[/color][/right]She arrived back at Duncan's base the next day, having found it without too much trouble. Pulling up nearby, she felt so nervous. Her heart was thumping vigorously inside her ribcage, and she couldn't say truthfully that her hands weren't shaking a bit. 

But she stepped out. Taking a few deep breaths, she attempted to steady her nerves. (She failed.) Then she took one more, deeper breath, calling out loudly, [color=#ead2b2]"Duncan?"[/color] In her hand she held the folded letter, which she would hold out to Duncan should he show himself.