[ By now, Lottie has accepted that she can't wake up. That there's nothing to wake up from. She is Charlotte Matthews, and her plane did not crash, and she has always been a resident of this small, shitty town.
It makes her sick, thinking about it. She knows that if she tries to protest, they'll put her someplace worse. So Lottie keeps her head down, and her mouth shut, and she waits for this to stop. In that respect, it's not much different from being out in the woods.
When she comes across the boy on the curb, he echoes her thoughts so completely that her face twitches, briefly holding some thin imitation of a smile. ]
Yeah. I know how you feel. I don't want to go, either.
iii
It makes her sick, thinking about it. She knows that if she tries to protest, they'll put her someplace worse. So Lottie keeps her head down, and her mouth shut, and she waits for this to stop. In that respect, it's not much different from being out in the woods.
When she comes across the boy on the curb, he echoes her thoughts so completely that her face twitches, briefly holding some thin imitation of a smile. ]
Yeah. I know how you feel. I don't want to go, either.
[ A beat. ]
Don't tell anyone I said that, please.