#꒰ 🎙️ ꒱ self para ╱ 𝒄𝒍𝒆𝒎 𝒅𝒖𝒑𝒐𝒏𝒕 ◞

[dearclem]

* ( ! ) 𝒍𝒖𝒙 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒔

when: april 1st, roughly 11:47PM. where: towards the back of rhee's bar & grill. what: solo for this plot drop. warnings: ocd, broken bones, blood, mentions of death. mentioned: sry i'm not tagging none yall. clem adores too many of u dweebs 😔

the second game goes into overtime and clem hides a yawn. her social battery is running on fumes by this point in the evening, but the time she’s spent with friends warms her face as she weaves through the crowd towards the back of the bar to relieve herself, much to her own dismay. she doesn't like public restrooms; not knowing how well they were cleaned or who may have used them was enough to make her skin crawl, but a night filled with bottomless water and that singular virgin mojito won’t allow her to last until she makes it home.

she’s meticulous in the way she washes her hands, following a routine she’s had since childhood: rinse. put soap inside right palm. dampen soap. lather on entire surface of hands, then wrists, going up to mid-forearm. rinse. flick fingers into the sink thirteen times. repeat entire process three times before drying hands. finish routine by wiping sink and counter with a fresh paper towel until area is dry. by following the routine, it ensures she doesn't get in trouble and nothing bad will happen to someone she cares about. it doesn't make sense, of course, but obsessive thoughts and compulsions rarely do.

she hears the crowd pick up in volume, indicating the games have finally come to an end for the evening just as she's carefully tossing the paper towel into the garbage and she decides it best to give kage a heads up about her plans. retrieving the mobile from her back pocket, the raven happens to notice the time and her lips curl into a smile as she makes a mental note to give deshaun the right to say i told you so, before firing off a text message:

(  clem 📲 favorite  ):  everything’s finally over! i’m going to stay behind for a bit to help clean up and i promised kennedy i’d wait for her so she can give me something, but i’ll let you know when i’m on my way home 🖤

she’s in the process of putting her phone away when she exits back into the hallway, but the stairs leading to the basement catch her eye, stopping her in her tracks just past the edge of the wall. staring down the darkened descent serves as inspiration, kicking her imagination into overdrive and lights her up like a christmas tree.  ❝  oh, why haven't i used this before! just imagine all the horrors i can hide in a dark, damp, creepy basement!  ❞  the exclamation is spoken softly, lost in the murmur of the patrons still reeling from their own alcohol-infused excitement, before she senses someone approaching. believing it to be someone who needed to use the restroom like herself, she moves to grant them more room within the hallway, offering them a politely spoken,  ❝  oh, excuse me. sorry,  ❞  for taking up space. clem is so focused on committing her ideas to memory so she doesn't forget them before they can be written down that she can't bring herself to shift her attention despite her feet beginning to carry her back to the floor.

she’s only able to take a couple steps of her own when she realises she can hear the other's footsteps reverberating throughout the hallway---an oddity, given the lively atmosphere of the place---and, wait, why do they sound quicker than usual? her movements cease as clem's head whips forward so she can find out why.. except she's given no time to react before she's shoulder checked by the stranger.

they’re much stronger; solid and broad, especially in comparison to herself, and there's enough force that it knocks her off balance, but she hadn’t realised just how close she’d gotten to the edge of the initial step in her attempt to give them more room to pass until her foot slips off the edge, ankle rolling, and suddenly she’s free falling.

instinct wastes no time kicking in and she tries to catch herself, but the impact of her weight landing on the outstretched arm when it comes in contact with one of the steps immediately renders it useless and it caves. her world is spinning now, causing her to lose all sense of direction, but even knowing the best way to protect herself, learned through the research she’s stumbled across throughout her career as a writer, it does nothing to help her. using one's arms to protect their head and curling into a ball to roll down is nowhere near as easy as people make it seem and just as clem starts to think she's found a never ending staircase, she finally lands with a resounding thud, paired with a groan as her head ricochets off the basement floor.

the irony of the situation and the way it played out similarly to that of one she’d considered for her protagonist would be enough to elicit a chuckle had she not been in so much pain. her entire body aches: arms, legs, ribs, back, neck, head, and she could’ve sworn she heard things crack on her descent, though she can’t pinpoint exactly where and clem chokes back a sob. she doesn’t risk moving, both in fear of potentially hurting herself further and.. what if they're still around, looking down at me, watching?

her vision swims as dizziness overtakes her. her consciousness is beginning to slip, and it worries her, so she does the only thing she can think of to keep herself awake until help  (  hopefully  )  arrives: she begins to think of those important to her.

aranya, kage, deshaun, monty, jacob, lany, dilara, sadiye, vera, emira, selin, julia, hyejin, lunara, paisley, yasmin, kahlan, kyle, dae-eun, mariana, crawford, her agent, her listeners, malachi---maybe more, but it's getting harder for her to remember names. it surprises her, though, the amount she does remember. for someone who has always felt so alone in the world, she doesn’t have enough fingers to count all of those she cares about most, regardless of where their relationship may stand now, but she can't help wondering why she didn't try to make more happy memories with them? why wasn’t she nicer or more involved? why wasn't she more willing to forgive and seek her own forgiveness? most importantly, when's the last time she told them i love you? even after the loss of vivian and amoni, and almost losing jacob, why did she continue to take it all for granted?

it's getting harder to keep her eyes open and she can feel her stomach churning, though it's hard to tell if that's due to the level of pain she's in or the possible concussion. blood trickles from the laceration on her forehead into her eye and it burns, but her body is battered and bruised, making it impossible for her to wipe it away and she wonders if this is how she's going to die; alone, scared, and hurt by a combination of her own stupidity and the cruelty of another------and when her world goes black, she swears she hears her mother's voice:

it's not your time yet, so go continue making me proud, clem. you have people waiting for you.

#꒰ 🎙️ ꒱ self para ╱ 𝒄𝒍𝒆𝒎 𝒅𝒖𝒑𝒐𝒏𝒕 ◞ #ocd tw #blood tw #death mention tw #i wish this was better but that'd require me being both willing to reread the shit i've written #and being a different person entirely and well :/// aint neither ever gonna happen so :/// dont @ me