Brigitte Snaps - Ginger Snaps II

Part 4 - Heroin Overdose

Ginger and Brigitte stand hunched over on the field smoking a cigarette. The class is playing lacrosse today but the girls aren't. They're looking around, trying to catch Jason McCardy. 
It's not too obvious since they always to this thing: Search and Destroy. Everyone knows they do, especially after the Brigitte and Trina dead dog incident.
"Where the fuck is he." Brigitte mumbles, taking a drag.
She hands it to Ginger and she puts it out.
"The fuck should I know."
Brigitte peeked over he shoulder and sees Trina, then whips her head back around. She doesn't even want to think about that right now.
"When you where seeing him did you go anywhere. Like does he have a spot?"
"You know what.. he's probably in his car. Let's go."
Brigitte shakes her head. "No. You go. I'm not apart of that."
Ginger scowls slightly but goes, and leaves Brigitte at the felid.

Brigitte doesn't like being alone out in school, especially with Trina near by. She's got a special glow to her today and even though shes never really felt jealous, somehow, today she does.
Brigitte leaves the felid in the direction of the school and the teacher doesn't notice. She's to focused watching the other girls.
Brigitte walks by Jason's friends and they don't even bat an eye. That makes her feel invisible, and again that bothers her even though it never has before.
She sulks into the school, through the empty halls and into the change room to change her pad.
Gross, she thinks.
After she's done she walks up to the mirror and looks at herself. The hair she wears like a gothic veil, always covering her face. She's always liked it. She still does.
Her skin is very pale today almost like she's painted her face white. It's ghostly.
She takes off one of her coats and reveals the tight red button up she has on underneath. She doesn't know why she wore it today. It used to be Gingers but she out grew it and gave it to her sister, never really expecting her to wear it. She's still got a loose sweater on overtop but the pop of colour is different in a way she likes.
A tight silver chain wraps around her neck sitting right below where a choker would go.
She smiles, like she did this morning when she put it on, then shakes that feeling away like a fly.
Brigitte knows it's the infection thinking, not her. What she doesn't know is if the infection is lycanthropy or womanhood.

Brigitte skips her next class which is English. It's easy for her so she doesn't care. It's very rare she skips a class without Ginger but today it's different. Gingers talking to a guy and she feels left out of something just sitting in class, even though that guy is Jason and she hates him.
Brigitte sits on the bleachers going through the suicide photos. The photos of Ginger and her being crushed by the car, dying on a steak and overdosing on pills. It's morbid, she knows, but they reminder her of an easier time. Ginger was so easy back then. They fit like puzzle pieces together, not needing anything or anyone else. Ginger didn't like drugs, guys, sex or anything other then death and her sister.
Brigittes infection makes her feel like there's more to life then that. It makes her want to open up and see more, and Brigitte is stuck in between the lines of if that's good or not. She starts to think that maybe it's not all bad - Growing up, that
is. Maybe life is more then death. More then her sister.
"Hey." A voice creeps up from behind. Brigitte jumps and scrambles to clean up the photographs.
It's Sam. He steps up the bleachers and takes a seat beside her.
He immediately notices her clothes. The red top on her pale skin and chest. It wraps around her fitting just right.
Brigitte feels him scanning her, searching for imperfections which she knows there are many of, but she likes that attention.
Sam sits beside her and looks at the bundle of photographs in her hands, all facing down so he can't see.
"You alright?"
"Been better." She doesn't know if that's the truth or not.
Sam motions to the photos. "What are those?"
Brigitte pull them closer. She knows they're fucked up. "Oh there nothing."
"Oh cmon let me see. Cant be worse then that one of the werewolf, right?"
Brigitte debates showing them. It gives her a reason to talk but also let's him In a little too close for comfort.
She bets Ginger never talked about them when she was with Jason, but Jason's different. He's a stupid, immature guy who probably doesn't understand his left from right, at least he used to be.
Sam's not like that. He's smart. He's a real person.
Brigitte flips the photos around and hands them to Sam. "They're death photos. Suicide. Ginger and I made them for art class."
Sam smirks. "You showed these to Mr. Wayne? The guy probably shit him self."
Brigitte laughs. "You know- knew Mr. Wayne?" The humour fades when she remembers that her sister brutalized him.
"Yeah. He was my English teacher, and the guidance Counselor back in my day."
"He still is.. well not anymore."
Sam flips through the photos of the sisters. He skims the ones of Ginger and focuses on the ones of Brigitte.
There's one of her laying peacefully like the Virgin Mary in an ice box. Words are written all over her face in a mocking manner, one saying 'THE END"
He can't tell if they where joking or not. If they really thought suicide was that simple. From personal experience, he knew it wasn't.
There's a lot more of Ginger then of Brigitte and that symbolizes something in his mind. That before, Brigitte never really was anything more the her sister. Everyone sees Ginger, her red flowing hair, sharp eyes and tall frame, but nobody sees Brigitte, her crazily messy hair and soft skin. Sam thought she was just as beautiful, just in a different way. He wonders if he's the first, other then her own sister to think so.
He lets out a deep breath of air. "Jeez. These are fucked."
"I know." Brigitte says.
"Why'd you do them. I mean- do you actually want to kill yourself."
Brigitte thinks before she speaks. "I don't anymore. I don't think I ever really did. It was always Gingers thing and that made it mine. I thought at the time it was mine." She pauses. "We had this.. pact. Out by 16 or dead on the scene but together forever."
Sam leans back. "Fuckk." He says long. "That's dark." He flips to another picture. "Would you have done it?"
Brigitte tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. She doesn't know the answer, she probably never will.
Sam takes her silence as such and finds another photograph - one of Brigitte hanging limp like a doll from the ceiling fan.
"How'd you do this one?" He asks. "I mean, your actually hanging right? It looks really fucking real."
Brigitte smirks. "That's a secret."
Sam puts the photos down and leans back forward. "And why is that?"
"Well I don't want you stealing my ideas. Who knows maybe this could go big someday. Its part of my creative craftsmanship."
"Oh." Sam taunted. "You think I'm not creative, I see. Well lets test that theory, shall we."
"What do you mean?"
"Well you've got your Camera, right? Let's make another photo. I've already got an idea. Everything's in my truck."
Brigitte bites her lip. Is this letting him in too far?
"Fine." She says. "But make it good. I'm not wasting any of my film."
Sam gets up. "Oh it'll be good."