You Forgot The First Rule Of Remakesdont Fuck With The Original. // Independent + Private Roleplay Blog

                  you forgot the first rule of remakes—don’t fuck with the original.   //   independent + private roleplay blog for sidney prescott of the scream franchise. written by blythe.

this is gonna be so messy bc i want to get this down before i forget but the woodsboro murders occur in early april of sidney’s senior year of high school and i just wanted to throw this out there: yearbooks would already be printed, bound, and sold and she and billy probably won a superlative or two together (including cutest couple rip (lemme have this)) so imagine the distaste/angst sidney deals with bc that item from high school contains memories of her best friend who died in the murders, but also her relationship with a psychopath that, for a large portion of time, was a complete lie

Randy: Sid! I don’t wanna be here! It’s scary!

Sidney: It’s okay. We have Billy.

Randy: That’s WHY it’s scary!

“I forgive and forget. Just like you, I’d like to get back on with my own life.”

                 Oh, that’s rich. Her fingers dip into the pocket of her purse clutched tightly to her side, gliding over the canister of mace. Long ago has he lost the benefit of the doubt card; long ago has she let go of any hope for him to enter back into her life in any way that would be welcomed. All she sees when she meets his eyes is one more lie in the jar that was already overflowing with them. Call it extensive bitterness, call it a grudge—in her eyes, it was wholly justified. He took her mother. He took her best friend. He took over a year of her time, stringing her along, playing the part of the supportive and caring (yet impatient and critical) boyfriend to perfection, until the curtain pulled back and the truth came out to stab her in the back (figuratively; Stu had slashed her shoulder rather nicely—she still had the scar to show for it, fifteen years later). 

                  Forgive her, Billy, as she cracks a smile full of malice for a split second, only to be replaced with a cold glare. If looks could kill, you’d drop dead!

                 ❛   The last time I was this close to you, you had one hand around my throat and another holding a knife, ready to cut me open.   ❜   Fifteen years ago her tone wavered as she recounted the memory; tonight, it was eerily calm and steady.   ❛   I don’t care that you managed to sway judge and jury into a lighter sentence. I don’t care that you got off on good behavior. I’ll make one thing very, very clear to you.   ❜

               Boots crunch against the wilting leaves fallen off of trees, crisp autumn air growing cold as the sun continued to dip below the horizon, darkness chasing its tail, casting a shadow across gentle features hardened by current company. When she speaks her final sentiment to him, it’s a soft whisper. It doesn’t fit her words.

                      ❛   The next time you come near me, I’ll fucking kill you.   ❜

stab 2? who would want to do that? sequels suck!: accepting!