Whats Your Favorite Scary Movie?, With Billy Loomis: What Do I Have To Do To Prove To You That Im Not

what’s your favorite scary movie?, with billy loomis:     ❛ what do i have to do to prove to you that i’m not a killer? ❜     ( @ghostkilla​ )

there’s an icy prickling at the back of her neck that has nothing to do with the cool, californian spring air around them; the sack lunch in front of her on the schoolyard picnic table remains untouched though this is the first moment she’s shown any interest in her meal despite having no appetite. it gives her a chance to place her focus anywhere but him, and his piercing stare, and his words that have a way of making her second guess herself at every turn. maybe she’s been too hasty to isolate herself again. it’s been over half a day since her harrowing brush with death, escaping with not so much as a scratch. under the surface, the whole ordeal cuts deep, reminds her of the last time she was scrambling through her home in a panic, blood-covered hands frantically dialing for help. everything and nothing has changed in a year and her mind can’t cope with it.

‘ billy — ’     she exhales his name, gaze moving away from a humble spread of tuna salad and an apple. she can’t avoid him anymore than she can seem to avoid the exhaustion that comes with survival     ( but surviving what, exactly? );     fingers brush against her bangs, through the sections of hair that isn’t fastened back, a reminder that she’s real, this is real, this is happening — as much as she wishes it wasn’t. when she finally meets his gaze, hers is apologetic. tired. exhausted.     ‘ this isn’t — can we please just put it behind us? ’

sid’s tougher than she looks. you’d have to be, all the shit she’s been through.

i’ve got a bit of brain fog so i’m gonna be working on some new blog graphics and reaching out to those of you who liked my plotting call <3

what  happens  next?  it’s  a  question  she’s  asked  herself  several  times  over  the  years.  even  now—even  after  surviving  yet  again—she  doesn’t  have  a  straight  answer.  she’ll  pack  up  her  bags  with  dewey  dutifully  keeping  watch  for  any  signs  of  trouble  around  the  roberts’  residence,  despite  the  fact  that  the  case  is  closed  and  the  murders  are  over.  she’ll  reschedule  her  flight  back  to  new  york,  take  some  time  to  herself,  maybe  finally  take  that  pottery  class  she  had  been  meaning  to  sign  up  for  but  never  had  the  time  for  it.  

a  distraction  sounded  especially  attractive  at  the  moment,  as  she  finally  grasps  her  keys  somewhere  within  the  depths  of  her  purse;  the  late-morning  sun  shines  especially  bright  and  blinding  as  she  gives  her  fellow  survivor  a  smile—empathetic  but  with  a  hint  of  something  more,  a  unspoken  secret  that  they  both  share.  it’s  not  the  most  glamorous  thing  in  the  world,  but  she  doesn’t  dwell  on  it.   ‘  ray’s  is  still  around,  right?  ’   the  best  burgers  in  woodsboro,  if  she  remembered  correctly.  the  real  crime  would  be  if  the  community  let  such  an  institution  go  out  of  business.   ‘  c’mon,  it’ll  be  my  treat.  ’  they’ll  talk  about  the  real  stuff  there.

˗ˏˋ     ɹǝʇɹɐʇs     ˙⅋     /     @serialfame​.

𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐲     𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐭𝐭.

             𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭     𝐰𝐚𝐬     𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭?     the     mark     of     death,     memories,     and     most     importantly:     a     plethora     to     figure     out.     wholly     unknowing     where     she     stood,     if     she     should     even     remain     in     said     town.     still,     a     smile     manages     to     adorn     lips     as     thoughts     come     and     go;     one     remaining     that     she’s     here     and     can     even     contemplate     what’s     to     come     bringing     a     source     of     light     into     vessel.     finally,     there’s     kirby     looking     up     at     sidney,     focusing     enough     where     body     turns     in     her     direction.     ❝     𝐬𝐨     𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬     𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭     𝐟𝐨𝐫     𝐲𝐨𝐮,     𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬     𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐭𝐭?     what     happens     next?     ❞     in     the     movie,     after     survival,     with     nightmares.     yet     being     there     to     tell     her     tale     outweighed     it     all,     and     next     time?     kirby     would     be     more     than     ready     (     but     she     hoped     there     would     be     no     true     need     ).     ❝     and     before     you     say     anything,     i     really     hope     lunch     is     included     in     those     plans,     because     i     am     starving.     ❞  

sidney hates horror movies. not because of her past traumas but because she thinks they all suck.

sidney  is  a  guest  columnist  for  the  nyt  and  will  often  write  pieces  on  how  violence  in  media  has  little  to  do  with  real-life  violence,  backed  up  by  her  own  past  and  experiences  facing  killers  head-on,  and  she’s  a  huge  advocate  for  mental  health  reform/destigmatization  and  funding  those  resources  so  that  they’re  available  to  those  who  need  it  most.