O/O - ((closed))

A crowd was beginning to gather around them, but Marla barely took notice, too occupied with frantically trying to pump air back into Chelsea’s lifeless body.

“Marla! You have to stop!” Gwen stepped in as an ambulance arrived, grabbing Marla by the arm.

“No!” Marla yelled, voice breaking as she struggled against Gwen’s grip.

Gwen wrapped Marla into a bear hug, dandelions sprouting at her feet from stress. “Please, Marla. Please.”

Blood. There was so much of it, clogging the air with its sickly stench, staining the front of her shirt, her hands slick with it. Marla barely managed to wrest herself from Gwen’s grip before she fetched and threw up all over the pavement.

Gwen grabbed Marla’s hair, holding it back for her girlfriend. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She mumbled, rubbing her back and looking away from the body.

Marla hastily wiped her mouth on the back of her mouth. She then made the fatal mistake of looking back at Chelsea—and suddenly the ground was spinning out from beneath her feet.

“Marla, lean on me, Princess. I need you to trust me.” Gwen felt faint herself, but she knew whatever Marla was going through had to be a million times worse.

Marla swayed, staggering backwards. Her mind was unable to comprehend what she was seeing, Chelsea—her friend since freshman year of high school—dead in a pool of blood. Sure, they had never been very close, but the event shattered her world either way.

“I—I need to—Water—“

“I know, I know.” Gwen gently turned Marla away, trying not to lose her cool. Help now, cry later. She repeated this to herself over and over for stability.

(Mood)

Marla turned and fled, tears streaming down her cheeks as she stumbled through the front door to her building.

Gwen followed after her, unsure of what to do with herself. She held open doors for Marla as she ran. “Marla, you go take a shower, okay? Then we can sit down and…” Gwen didn’t even know what. Talk? Cry?

Marla said nothing, only sat down on her bed and tried to stop the tears from spilling down her face, a hollow ache in her chest.

“Marla…” Gwen sat down next to her, still in shock. “I…”

Marla choked on a sob, stammering out apology after apology.

“Oh! Marla, hun.” Gwen embraced Marla despite the blood covering them both. “Don’t apologize, this isn’t your fault. This was… I don’t even know…”

Marla wiped her eyes again, smearing blood across her cheeks. “But—I think it is my fault,” she whispered, voice shaking so badly that she had to start the sentence over multiple times.

“There’s no way in hell that was your fault, Marla.” Gwen began to wipe the blood off on her pants.

Marla squeezed her eyes shut, the image of the Tarot emblazoned at the forefront of her mind. “But it is. I should have—Death—The card—“

“Shh…” Gwen soothed the best she could. “We both need a little time to process everything. I know you want to blam yourself right now, but you can’t, okay?”

“No. It’s—“ Marla slid off the bed and onto her knees, lifting her mattress with trembling hands and withdrawing a dusty, purple velvet pouch.

Gwen sat down on the floor next to Marla, her hands shaking almost violently. “Marla? What is that?”

Marla nearly ripped the pouch in her haste to get the jewelled cards out. “It’s—It’s my mother’s deck. I—I drew Death a few weeks ago. There was a vision. But I thought it was for me, not—“

Gwen stared in shock at the cards. “You couldn’t have known, Princess.” She assured her girlfriend. “There’s no way.”

“But—I—“ A card slipped from the deck, and without thinking, Marla picked it up and turned it over in her palm.

The unforgiving face of Death stared back up at her.

Gwen pulled Marla into a hug immediately. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It was—It was before the sleepover—“ she choked out, shoving the cards back into their pouch. “And now—Now Chelsea is—“

“I know, I know.” Gwen couldn’t bear to let go of Marla. “It’s not your fault, understand? But I think you should talk to your professor about this.”

Macha’s eyes went round with horror. “No,” she breathed, “This is an illegal deck. They’ll destroy it. But I’m bound to it—it’ll kill me too.”

“You’re bound to it? I… I don’t understand?” Gwen rubbed Marla’s back, trying to wrap her head around the situation. “And an illegal deck… what?”