//TW mentions of death, fire, and guns; character death; suicide; blood
It's been a few weeks since Clay's family had taken her in. They had allowed Clay to stay with her in Virginia through her Senior year so she could graduate. It's not like she actually found the motivation to try though. The days blurred together and she often found herself just laying with Clay, contemplating her life.
Just one day had managed to change it all.
One gunman.
Three people.
A house.
Fire.
No escape.
She felt a tear escape at the memories. If only she had been there, then maybe she wouldn't have to suffer this pain. She wouldn't have to fight to get out of bed everyday. There would be no tears shed. She could be home, with her family.
Her eyes squeezed shut as she shook her head. If she had died with them, then she wouldn't have met Clay and his family. He was the only reason why she got up in the morning. Why she even tried anymore. She smiled softly as she thought of him, of his smile, his laugh. Her thoughts ran wild with admiration, with happiness, with love.
It was just the two of them, facing the world together. She always sat with him as he streamed or recorded videos, her head laid against his chest. Her lips were set in a soft smile, glancing up at the boy. Her heart fluttered as she watched him talk animatedly. This was their moment, and theirs alone. Nothing could destroy it.
So when they found out that one hundred thousand people were watching them through the abandoned (but properly hooked up) webcam on Clay's monitor, their world was shaken.
Suddenly, all attention was on them. All hate was on her. There were so many tweets tagging him, trashing her. Luckily they hadn't figured out who she was. Sure, she's had a few tweets that have blown up here and there, but not enough to make her completely noticeable. She hadn't shown her face nor given any details of her appearance.
The biggest shock came when she reached school the next day and was recognized from the stream, despite having a mask on. Her eyes had widened as she shook her head, denying her own existence to the middle schooler who had come up to her.
Next she found several phones being shoved in her face with just as many people asking if she was the same person. The hand on her backpack strap tightened as she made her way to her first period. She saw her best friend sitting in the seat next to hers, which she gladly took. They quickly asked if she was ok, then proceeding to offer some comfort and protection. This was going to be a long day.
When she arrived home, she flopped on the couch next to Clay. He quickly took her into his arms and kissed her softly on her head. This was just as hard for him as it was for her. They found consolation in each other as they sat there, wrapped in each other's arms.
They would get through this together.
The days wore onto weeks, each day becoming even harder to distinguish. Each day brought on more pressure from the community, more expectations to be something that she wasn't. It was harder to get out of bed, to walk, to eat, to even smile. She wasn't...she couldn't be the same person. Not with people constantly pressuring her about being with Clay, about losing her own family.
When the community found out about her family, all hell broke loose. People constantly attacked her, telling her it was her fault for losing her family, that she didn't deserve Clay because she was a murderer. That she should just off herself because Clay was just pitying her, he didn't actually love her.
Maybe in some other world, she would've denied it and stood up for herself. Maybe she wouldn't have let them get to her. She would've told Clay instead of hiding it and facing it alone.
In that world, Clay wouldn't have found her sprawled out on the floor of their bathroom in a pool of her own blood.
