Work Text:
One – Trust Fedra. Stay alive.
Your name is Ellie. You’re fourteen years old.
They tell you to shape up. They tell you to stay in line. This is it. This is just how the world is. FEDRA is the only way to stay alive.
And it would be easier, it would be so much easier to fall for the lie. If you could just nod and say okay. If you could believe that surviving was the same thing as living.
But you can’t.
You fight and you mouth off and you get in trouble and when your best friend climbs through your bedroom window, hand outstretched, you take it.
Two – Trust the Fireflies. Follow the Light.
Your name is Ellie. You’re fourteen years old. You’re in a room, handcuffed to the wall.
You kissed her, you shot her, your best friend is dead, you’re all alone, you kissed her, you shot her
Don’t think about it don’t think about it
You’re in that box for three weeks. Your best friend is dead you killed her and they lock you up in an empty room and your brain keeps replaying it over and over you kissed her and you just want a hug but the only person who ever held you close is gone you killed her .
Marlene said they’d get you to safety, but there are gunshots in the hallway and now she’s telling you to go with a strange woman and an even stranger man. She says that they’ll keep you safe even when they said they’ll kill you over a car battery.
It would be nice if you could believe Marlene’s lie, could just nod and say okay. Because it doesn’t make a difference that you know she’s lying. You’re fourteen. What choice do you have? You can ask questions, you can mouth off. But you don’t have any other options. You go with them, knowing there’s no such thing as safe.
Three – Go with Tommy. You’re better off without me.
Your name is Ellie. You’re fourteen years old.
It’s been months now. Summer’s turned to fall and winter’s coming.
The woman is dead. So is a little boy who was your friend. So is his brother, who shot himself in the head.
It's almost a poem, but you’re too close to see it.
Joel’s still there. He’s still grumpy and he doesn’t like your puns but when danger comes he’ll squeeze you behind his back against the wall and protect your body with his.
You’re a million miles from anywhere, there are still infected everywhere, but you’re the most alive you’ve ever been.
So, when he tells his brother to take you, you lose your mind a little.
He says it’s for your own good. He says you’ll be safer.
It’s a lie, all of it. A bunch of fucking lies.
And it hurts that he thought you would believe it. That he thought you’d just nod and say okay, and go quietly.
You know the truth. You wouldn’t be safer – you’d only be more scared. And you tell him that, yell it right to his face. And he yells back. And that night it’s like being back in the cell.
You’re alone.
But it works. He listens. He doesn’t leave you.
Four – It’s just deer meat, darling…
Your name is Ellie. You’re fourteen years old.
Joel might be dead by now for all you know.
You’re back in another cell.
Winter has sunk into your bones. You’re cold all the time. You’re hungry all the time.
And now there’s fucking cannibals.
But here’s the thing – you really don’t want to die.
So when their leader takes your hand and strokes it, there’s a moment when you consider it.
You know girls who survived this way back in Boston. Found the biggest thug, bartered their bodies for protection.
You want to live so badly.
You ask yourself – could you do it? Pretend it’s really venison. Pretend you want this monster of man. Just nod and say okay.
Could you do it?
And then the moment’s over.
And then you break his fucking finger.
Five – The Hospital
Your name is Ellie. You’re fourteen years old.
You wake up (you don’t remember falling asleep) you’re in a moving car (you’ve only been in a car once before) you’re not wearing your clothes…
Joel says there was trouble (yeah, okay). He says there were other people who were immune (but you’ve never met anyone like you…) he says there were bandits (and you slept through whole thing?) he says it’s over, they’re not even trying to make vaccines anymore (why would they stop trying? what scientist would ever stop trying?)
But here’s the thing. You look at Joel and you finally understand what it means to be home. It’s not four walls and a roof. It’s a scruffy beard that rubs your face when he hugs you. It’s the smell of a worn leather jacket and the dusty smoke of gun powder. It’s his heavy sigh when you tell him puns. It’s how he always makes sure you have food before he takes his share.
You can’t say the word, but he’s your dad.
You’re fourteen years old. You’re scared of ending up alone.
So, you ask him, you beg him to tell you the truth.
“Swear to me, swear that everything you said about the fireflies was true.”
And he looks you dead in the eyes, not even blinking when he says, “I swear.”
You nod. You say okay.
You try to believe it.