[Those are words she expects to hear often since she woke up that day -- sorry sorry sorry. The prospect practically makes her sick inside. So much so that she doesn't answer. Can't. When her phone pings and activity on the network sparks, Rey can't stand to even look at it anymore.
[Removing it from her sight doesn't offer much solace, but she can pretend for a little while that things can be normal again, or as normal as they can be around here. She can go to sleep and sleep and sleep and have visions of things being okay in the middle of horrors and memories. But ultimately she can pretend. Ignore and pretend that the last few weeks she lived was nothing more than a horrible nightmare.
[What does it matter? Did she honestly expect that things with Maketh would go different? That she could ask for forgiveness, just like before all this? Seems like a pipedream now, and it always will be.
[Thus, she'll choose to sleep than to answer, as her one mean of communication to the outside of her blackened bedroom is ground and submerged and silent now.
[She can pretend that things will be different when she wakes, but it never is.]
[not here]
[Removing it from her sight doesn't offer much solace, but she can pretend for a little while that things can be normal again, or as normal as they can be around here. She can go to sleep and sleep and sleep and have visions of things being okay in the middle of horrors and memories. But ultimately she can pretend. Ignore and pretend that the last few weeks she lived was nothing more than a horrible nightmare.
[What does it matter? Did she honestly expect that things with Maketh would go different? That she could ask for forgiveness, just like before all this? Seems like a pipedream now, and it always will be.
[Thus, she'll choose to sleep than to answer, as her one mean of communication to the outside of her blackened bedroom is ground and submerged and silent now.
[She can pretend that things will be different when she wakes, but it never is.]