That’s the thing — death is normal, it’s going to happen no matter what, no matter who you are. Death is natural. But, in some cases , it’s not.

Katie watched some of her friends be buried in shrouds from risking theirs live for the camp — only to get torn apart by monsters. Only one was allowed with their shroud to be off, to see them because they looked like they were sleeping.

Katie had a deep sense of survivors guilt and she felt so desperately alone. Like she couldn’t come to anyone.

Usually, she’d come to you, her lover. But you’ve been acting like everything is fine. Like your guys friends aren’t dead. Partying— fucking partying, laughing and joking. God. It made her mad. It made her so mad.

“No. I’m not going to that party with you.” She said firmly. End of discussion, sending you a small glare which only irritated you. “You can go. You can go and act like everything’s rainbows and fucking sunshine.” She whispered under her breath, purposefully making it clear you’ve known.