none of us did it

Welcome to //none of us did it so we all did it.// It is a piece of interactive fiction. [[Get Started...|Beginners]] [[Credits & Info.|Thanks]]

You are 16 years old. [[Do you remember what that was like?|Being15]]

You were born in 2009. Your first steps were recorded on a brand new iPhone 3GS. On your 10th birthday you received an [[iPhone 11.|iPhone 12.]]

Your first years of secondary school were lost to the pandemic. You watched porn for the first time on the school bus. You love the noughties guitar music your Dad showed you. You want to learn to play the drums. [[You do not tell your friends.|Guitar]]

You live in a coastal town, somewhere in England. You have lived here your whole life. It isn't the //beach resort// sort of coastal, like the places your parents took you during the Summer holidays when you were [[little...|Coastal]]

Before we begin, you have a choice to make. Try not to [[think about it too much.|StartChoice]]

Who do you want to be? [[The boy.|Boy]] [[The conservationist.|Conservationist]] [[The saltmarsh.|Saltmarsh]]

You are a 36 year old woman. (If you aren't, [[use your imagination.)|Imagination]]

You aren't here yet. You're just [[waiting to happen.|WaitToHappen]]

It is the sort of coastal where you can't swim in the sea. The sort where the coastline is muddy, oily, and covered in plants. [[The shit sort of coastal.|Parade1]]

It is August. The [[warmest on record.|Heat]]

Since you were born, summer temperatures have risen year on year. You have been told to make three separate posters about this in PHSE, but otherwise you don't think it about it too much. It is [[Thursday night.|Thursday]]

You are on the parade. It is a long road running down the coastline. There are a couple of cafes, a fish and chip shop, a few houses and a restaurant your parents take you to when it is a Big Birthday. It is busier than normal for a Thursday, thanks to the nice weather and school holidays. You are there with your friends: [[Jack...|Jack]]

Everyone knows Jack. Jack knows everyone. His dad invented British Bulldog. He dicks about in class - but for some reason gets away with it because the teachers love him. He says this is about "charisma." He has been your best friend since primary school. He introduced you to [[Karim.|Karim]]

Karim is good at everything. But he's not a prick about it. He gets invited to Gifted and Talented events at school, and nobody takes the piss because he is a solid midfielder. Karim has a girlfriend. A real one. You are too embarrassed to ask him about her. [[Anyway...|Parade2]]

It is a Thursday evening in August. You, Jack and Karim are walking down the parade, rucksacks on, sweat pooling against your backs. It is GCSE results day. That morning, you [[opened your envelope...|Results]]

It was not good news. You failed everything. You did try, [[didn't you?|DidTry]]

The day has been clouded by an overwhelming feeling that future doors are closing. And now you are with your friends, the moment you have been dreading has arrived. Jack just about scraped passes. Karim got top marks across the board. [[They are looking at you...|GradesQuery]]

(set:$grades to "lie") "I did okay. Got what I needed." You are a good liar. Other things you have lied about: your music taste, fancying a girl in the year above, being drunk... "Get in! Full house!" Jack ruffles your hair. "This calls for a celebration." "I'm fucking starving." Karim yawns, stretches... [["Chippy?"|Chippy]]

(set: $grades to "secret") "Are you guys hungry?" They are 16 year old boys. They are always hungry. As soon as the question leaves your lips, they forget their own. Jack's eyes light up: "chippy?" [["Chippy."|Chippy]]

(set:$grades to "true") "I fucked it. Maths, English, Science... Everything." There's a pause. They look at you, at each other, let it sink in. They're going to college. You'll be working with your Dad. "Fuck." Jack punches your shoulder. "Sorry mate." Karim searches for a way to cheer you up... "Chippy?" [["Sure."|Chippy]]

You arrive at the chippy. A sign outside says it's the best in England. You agree. (if: $grades is "true")[As you head inside, you put on a brave face, try to forget about your grades. But Jack and Karim keep giving you pitying sideways glances. They're going to [[leave you behind.|ChippyOrder]]] (if: $grades is "secret")[You thought you'd got away with it, but as you come through the door, Karim remembers... "You didn't say what you got..." You pretend you [[don't hear him.|ChippyOrder]]] (if: $grades is "lie")[The three of you walk into the chippy, heads held high, returning from the quest of your childhood with good (enough) grades and heading to college. Your whole futures ahead of you. You almost forget it's a [[lie.|ChippyOrder]]]

You approach the counter. The girl serving you used to go to your school - a few years above. She looks at you like you've ruined her day. "What do you want?" [["Fish and chips."|Fish]] [["Sausage and chips."|Sausage]]

She shovels chips into a polysterene carton, tops it off with a crisp piece of fish, douses it in vinegar, wraps the whole thing in paper. She hands you the parcel in a blue plastic bag. Your stomach growls. You look around. Everyone has had the same idea. Results day celebrations. The place is [[packed.|Chippy2]]

Jack and Karim immediately make fun of you for saying "sausage" to a girl. She rolls her eyes and shovels chips into a tray before balancing the sausage on top. You flush red. She puts the parcel in a blue plastic bag and hands it over to you. You look around. Everyone has had the same idea. Results day celebrations. The place is [[packed.|Chippy2]]

It's so busy there's nowhere to sit. "Back to mine?" asks Jack. "FIFA?" You shrug. Whatever. You just want to eat. You're about to head out when - "Shit. Forgot my keys." Jack turns out his pockets. "Mum won't be back till midnight. She's on lates." You look to [[Karim.|Karim2]]

Karim shakes his head. "My sister bagsied the living room. She's having friends round." They look at [[you.|WhereToGo]]

...But you can't go home with these grades. Your Mum will have a fit. You want to put that off for as long as you can. And then, as if she heard your thoughts, you get a phone call. "MUM" flashes up on your screen. [[Take it.|MumCall]] [[Ignore it.|MumIgnore]]

You answer the phone and move away from your friends. She sounds worried. "Sweetie, where are you?" "With Jack and Karim." You look at them. They give you the finger, grinning. "How did it go?" [[Not this //again.//|NotThisAgain]]

(set:$mumgrades to "ignore") You reject the call and look at your friends. (if: $grades is "true")["I'm not going home - she'll have a fit."](else:)["It's results day. We're not going home."] Jack takes a brief pause from shovelling chips into his face. "Have you got a better idea?" "Let's stay out. [[See what happens."|Parade3]]

(set: $mumgrades to "ignore") "Hello?" She raises her voice. "I can't - hear - sorry." You hang up, stomach sinking, and return to your friends. They look at you [[expectantly.|MatesPlan2]]

(set: $mumgrades to "lie") She is thrilled that you did so well. "Don't stay out too late. I'm making your favourite tea. We're going to celebrate!" You look at the parcel in your hands - you're not hungry enough for //one// meal anymore. Let alone two. You head back to your friends. They look at you [[expectantly.|MatesPlan1]]

(set: $mumgrades to "true") You give her the breakdown. Fails across the board. And then you [[wait...|Wait]]

"No idea what she was saying. Connection dropped out. She sounded pretty mad." You pocket your phone. (if: $grades is "true")["I can't go home yet. She's gonna go sick."] Jack and Karim nod, serious, shoveling chips into their faces. "Why don't we just [[stay out for a bit?"|Parade3]]

You head out of the chippy, and back onto the parade. The sun is setting - people are starting to go home. You watch them trail back to their cars as you wolf down your food. Salt stings the corners of your mouth. You should have bought a drink. You are still holding the blue plastic bag from the chippy. [[Throw it away.|ThrowBag]] [[Pocket it.|PocketBag]]

You tell them your Mum just called. (if: $grades is "true")["I can't go home with grades like this. She'll have a fit."](else:)["She says there's a gas leak. Mine's a no-go. Sorry."] Jack takes a brief pause from shovelling chips into his face. "Fuck it. Let's just [[stay out."|Parade3]]

She is silent. "Mum? Are you still there?" "Come home. Now." [["What?"|MumAngry]]

"We should talk." Her tone is sharp. She hangs up. You turn back to your friends. They look at you [[expectantly.|MatesPlan3]]

(if: $grades is "true")["She's fuming. She wants me to come home."](else:)["Er... She says I can't come home. There's a gas leak or something."] Jack raises his eyebrows. "Shit." "Why don't we just stay out? [[For a bit."|Parade3]]

(set: $bag to "trash") You let the bag go - it's caught by the breeze, does a triple somersault, and disappears out onto the saltmarsh. "Hey, what's that?" Karim points. You squint. Further off, A nest of wooden planks juts out of the reedbed. [["A boat?"|Boat1]]

(set: $bag to "pocket") You scrunch the bag up as small as it will go - the damp plastic feels strange in your hands. You shove it into your pocket. "Hey, what's that?" Karim points out over the saltmarsh. A nest of rotten planks jut out of the reedbed. "It's trash." You shrug. Jack shoves your shoulder. [["It's a boat."|Boat1]]

Jack leaps down off the parade and onto the saltmarsh. "Let's have a look." Karim doesn't hesitate. You do. You're not supposed to go down [[there.|BoatApproach]]

...But what else are you going to do? You graze your palms as you slide down the wall and land on the reedbed. Together, you walk across the saltmarsh. It feels spongey underfoot, like walking through a swamp, a soft play centre, an alien planet. "Stinks out here." Karim scrunches his nose. He's right. It smells like a wet anorak and the school changing room all rolled into one. You approach [[the boat.|Boat2]]

It's a small rowing boat - the kind you might see in a children's storybook. The wood is rotting away, but you can just about make out the name //Kathleen// painted on the side. As the sun sinks beyond the horizon, the sky turns a rich, burnt orange. (if:$bag is "trash")[A few metres away, your chipshop plastic bag is snagged on a piece of driftwood, fluttering like a flag.](else:)[You peer into the boat. There are strange plants creeping up through the cracks in its base. Their thick green stems look like fat alien insects...] With ceremony, Jack produces a spliff from his rucksack. "Anyone got a light?" You give him your [[lighter.|Lighter]]

You found it in the drawer of your dad's desk. It's a cheap one, made of translucent purple plastic. You don't know why you took it. You don't even smoke. Jack lights up. The smell is sweet, but mixed with the damp musk of the saltmarsh it makes you feel sick. "Here." [[You take a drag.|GetHigh]] [["No, ta."|StaySober]]

(set: $weed to "high") You pass the spliff back, coughing. You don't do this often. You could never see the point... But now, the sound of Karim and Jack laughing, wrestling in the boat, melts away. Your needling anxiety - about your grades, your Mum, your future - softens. You breathe out, and roll your gaze upward to take in the full blazing palette of the sky... There is something [[up there...|MarshHarrier1]]

(set: $weed to "sober") Jack shrugs. "Suit yourself." You watch the tip glow as he passes it over to Karim. Jack clambers into the boat and starts doing his best pirate impression. You're not in the mood. You scan the [[landscape...|Bittern]]

It's an enormous bird - beating its wings, fighting the wind to stay pinned in one spot. Its wing tips are inky black, its eyes trained on the ground. It is beautiful. It dives, and a flurry of smaller shapes explode out of the reeds, trilling as they scatter. You turn to Karim and Jack. [["Hey - look at that."|LookHarrier]] [[You keep it to yourself.|SecretHarrier]]

You never paid much attention to the landscape before now. It looks barren, unfriendly. A bit //Mad Max...// Something moves in the grass. You can't see it yet, but you can hear it... A low tone, like an error message popping up on your Mac. What the fuck //is// that? Suddenly, a head pops up. It looks like some kind of dinosaur bird, with a long sharp beak that keeps snapping together. It stares with beady orange eyes. It creeps you out. [[Throw a stone.|StoneBittern]] [[Yell at it.|YellBittern]]

Jack and Karim turn to you, confused. "Look at that bird." As soon as you say it, you wish you'd kept it to yourself. They parrot your words back at you, pointing wildly in different directions. //Look at that bird! Look at that bird!// "Alright, David Attenborough," Jack wheezes. Karim changes the subject. "What's the plan for [[next year?"|FutureChat]]

"Oi." Karim chucks a pebble at you. "What?" "You totally spaced." He giggles. "I was just..." You watch the bird dive again, disappearing into the reeds. Jack changes the subject. "So what's the plan for [[next year?"|FutureChat]]

"Look at that thing!" You point to the weird bird. "The fuck is it?" Jack asks. You find a rock by the boat. You chuck it. The bird makes a strangled sound and dives for cover. Jack and Karim near wet themselves for laughing. Their laughing has you spooked. You change the subject. "So... What's the plan for [[next year?"|FutureChat]]

The bird //booms.// You //boom// back. //Boom! Boom! Boom!// Jack and Karim are staring at you... "The fuck are you doing?" You turn back, but the bird has disappeared. Was it even there to begin with? Are you seeing ghosts? The conversation turns to [[the future.|FutureChat]]

The others talk fast, about the A-Level subjects they'll take, the football team, the other lads from your school heading to the same place. To them, everything feels big, and close, and //possible.// (if: $grades is "true")[Something falters in Karim's expression. It's like he's only just remembered you're there. He punches Jack in the arm. "What? Oh, shit... Sorry, mate." You shrug. Show no weakness. "Whatever. [[Grades aren't everything."|DownPlay]]] (if: $grades is "lie")[Karim turns to you. He's just realised you haven't said a word. You stutter into life, "yeah... cool." Jack eyes you, suspicious. "You're not looking forward to it?" "I mean... It's just college. Who cares? The future is [[fucked."|FutureFucked]]] (if:$grades is "secret")[Suddenly, Jack stops. Like someone's flicked a switch, he turns to you. "You still haven't said what you got." Why won't he leave it alone? You meet his eye. "Does it really matter? We're all [[screwed anyway."|FutureFucked]]]

Jack might be a dickhead, but he's always been able to hear an edge in your voice. He knows when you're upset. He leaps up, digs through his rucksack and pulls out his envelope. Not-bad-but-not-great grades enclosed. "You're right. Grades aren't everything." There's a look in his eyes. You've seen it before. Trouble. He takes your purple lighter and sets fire to the envelope, chucking it into the rotten pit of the boat. He turns to you, beaming. [["Where are yours?"|PassGrades]]

You can't stop now you've started. You did// try,// didn't you? And what it get you? Nothing seems fair. "It's all fucking pointless. Exams, college... What's it all for?" Jack starts to take the piss - you cut him off. "I'm serious. What's left for us when it's all over? There are no jobs, there are no fucking houses... Everything's burning." You're not even sure you believe what [[you're saying...|OnARoll]]

You root around in your bag, find your own envelope. Jack lunges forward and swipes it. He lights the corner, blowing on it gently. Tosses the flaming envelope on top of his own. He turns to [[Karim.|KarimFire]]

Karim winces. "No, mate..." Jack won't hear it. "It's symbolic." He grabs Karim's rucksack. "It only means something if we all do it." Karim looks pained. "What does it //mean?"// Jack finds Karim's envelope. You try to talk him down. "Jack - he doesn't have to." But it's too late. Jack fumbles with your lighter, sets the envelope alight, and drops it on the pile. All three envelopes melt together, [[corners curling...|BoatFire]]

The flames grow, held in the belly-pit of the boat. (if:$weed is "high")[Your high is wearing off, but the tips of the flames have a softness, a dancing blur.](else:)[Jack and Karim are still high. You watch as they giggle and run laps around the flames.] Tiny shreds of paper float up and drift on the breeze. You want to be up there with them. You step back, take a run up, and //leap// over the boat. When you land, you see Jack has his phone out. He's filming you. [[Play up to it.|PhonePerform]] [[Tell him to stop.|PhoneStop]]

But it feels good to let it all out. That sounded good, didn't it? //"Everything's burning!"// And to prove your point, you grab the lighter from Jack. You root around in your rucksack, take out that fucking envelope, and set it alight. Jack's eyes light up. He cheers, finds his own grades, swipes Karim's - and hands them over to you. Karim opens his mouth to say something but - It's too late. The grades are on fire. You chuck them into the pit of the boat, watch the pages curl and the numbers lift into [[smoke.|BoatFire]]

(set:$video to "perform") You pull faces down the camera, act tough. Playfight with Karim. Jack grins at his phone screen, whooping and yelling. You remember reading //Lord of the Flies// in English. You wish this was an island. You wish the night didn't have to end. And as you play, the fire licks at the reeds. It breaks out of the boat. It spreads to [[the saltmarsh.|FireSpreads]]

(set: $video to "delete") "Stop it." "It's just a joke." "Delete it." He looks at Karim. You're spoiling the fun. You know this is how it starts - they are going places, you aren't. This is where the cracks form. He laughs. Suddenly, you hate him. "//Delete// it." He spits in the grass and fiddles with his phone. He shows you - it's gone. And as you argue, the fire breaks out of the boat. It licks at the reeds. it spreads [[to the saltmarsh.|FireSpreads]]

The grass is dry and brittle, bleached by all the hot weather. The fire spreads, chewing up reeds and growing bigger, stronger, hotter. //"Shit." // You stumble backwards. It's getting out of control. You turn to parade - a small crowd is forming. A figure stands on the wall, waving a torch and shouting... What are they saying? Jack looks at you, the blaze reflected in his eyes. "What do we do?" [[Try to stamp it out.|StampFire]] [[Run.|FleeScene]]

(set: $ankle to "burn") You frantically stamp at the burning grass. A sharp, white hot pain flashes around your ankle. It stings. It //really// stings. Your skin tightens as it burns. You leap back. The fire grows. Karim grabs your arm. "RUN!" You swallow the pain and head for [[the parade.|Marshland]]

You turn and run, choking on the smoke. (if:$weed is "high")[The dancing orange blur of your high is replaced by molten panic.](else:)[Your friends stumble behind you, fuzzy-headed, uncoordinated on uneven land.] You run and run. You can taste blood. You head for the [[parade.|Marshland]]

Your legs ache, your eyes sting, but you keep running. The fire grows behind you. Up ahead - the crowd of onlookers gets bigger. (if: $ankle is "burn")[Your ankle screams with pain. The bottom of your jeans rub against the wound. You grit your teeth and keep going.] (if:$bag is "trash")[Out of nowhere, the plastic chippy bag swirls into view. It hits your face with surprising force. For a second, everything is a bright, artificial blue.] And you can hear something else... Beyond the flames, shouts from the parade, the wail of distant sirens. You can hear [[something //screeching//.|HarrierChick]]

You whirl around, trying to find the source of the noise. //There! // Tucked away among the reeds... A baby bird in an otherwise abandoned nest. At least, you //think// it's a baby bird. It's pretty big for a baby, covered in fluffy white feathers. It looks like it's been rolled across the school hall and covered in lint. It sits there, soft, floppy and helpless - staring at you with enormous round black eyes. It screeches, mouth gawping like an ugly puppet. Jack shoots past you. Karim stops. "What are you doing? Hurry up!" [[He leaves.|BirdChoice]]

You creep closer. The chick waves its too-big head wildly, shrieking. You need to move it... (if:$bag is "pocket")[You remember the plastic bag in your pocket. As gently as you can, you scoop the chick up with the bag, being careful to ensure its head pokes out. It's not ideal, but you manage to get the chick [[inside.|ChickBag]]] (else:)[As gently as you can, you pick up the chick. And realise, all too suddenly, that it has talons. It digs into your wrists, drawing blood. It writhes, tries to break free of your grip- but you hold [[tight.|ChickArms]]]

(set: $chick to "abandoned") You hesitate... And in that second the fire reaches the nest. The chick makes a new noise. You don't know how to describe it. It pierces your ears. You think it might go on forever. But then you hear Jack, shouting, "COME ON!" And you run back to [[the parade.|Parade4]]

(set: $chick to "bag") The chick writhes in the bag, its talons snagging in the plastic. It's heavier than you thought it would be. It wails and wails - unhappy, but alive. With a silent apology for the bumpy ride, you race across the saltmarsh and back to [[the parade.|Parade4]]

You start running again. The chick pecks at your face. You feel a sharp sting, like a papercut, above your eye. Something warm trickles down through your eyebrow. You can barely see. The fire is closing in. The chick isn't making this easy. [[Drop the chick.]] [[Hold it tighter.]]

You arrive at the parade to find a sea of concerned faces. You turn to follow their gaze and take in the full scale of the fire. It tears hungrily across the marshland, as though a crack has opened in earth and some furious, flame-haired god is reaching out of it. Smoke fills the night sky. You freeze, heart pounding. Jack and Karim disappear into the crowd, unnoticed. You don't know what else to do. So you turn to [[head for home.|Bump]]

(set: $chick to "broken") The chick lunges for your face... Your head jerks back to avoid its sharp beak. Your arms come up to shield your eyes. It drops to the ground. You look at its broken body, a crumpled heap of odd angles and down. It stops crying. Jack and Karim have nearly made it to the parade. [[You chase after them.|Parade4]]

(set:$chick to "jacket") You grit your teeth, ignore the scratches, and pull the chick inside your jacket, swaddling it tight so its talons aren't free to slash at your neck. You feel it squirm, brittle but somehow //strong.// You head for [[the parade.|Parade4]]

But you run straight into a woman, holding a torch. She must be the one who was waving at you earlier. She wears a fleece with a logo on it, her hair tucked into a warm beanie. She looks worried. "Hey... Was that you out there?" You find you can't say anything. (if:$chick is "bag")[You hand her the chick in the carrier bag. It wriggles weakly. The woman's eyes widen. "Where did you find this?" You ignore the question, and [[run home.|HomeRun]]](if: $chick is "jacket")[You pull the chick out of your jacket and hand it over gently. The woman's eyes widen. She takes off her jacket and swaddles the chick. "Where did you find this?" You ignore the question and [[head home.|HomeRun]]](if: $chick is "abandoned")[You [[run home.|HomeRun]]](if:$chick is "broken")[You [[run home.|HomeRun]]]

(if: $ankle is "burn")[You can hear the woman calling after you as you limp away on your bad ankle.](else:)[You can hear the woman calling after you as you push through the crowds.] You pull up your hood. You arrive at your front door. You don't remember how you got there. You take a deep breath. You [[go inside.|Home]]

Your parents are waiting in the living room. The TV plays in the background - a gentle comedy about old men fishing. (if:$ankle is "burn")[Before you can even speak, your mum notices something isn't right. "Why are you limping?" You swallow the pain, try to cover up your scorched trouser leg. "Football. I stacked it." She shakes her head.] You try to head upstairs... (if:$mumgrades is "ignore")[But they won't let you off that easily. Your Mum gets up from the sofa. "I called, but we didn't get to speak earlier." She wants to know about [[your grades.|MumQ]]] (if:$mumgrades is "true")[But they won't let you off that easily. "I told you this would happen. If you didn't take it seriously. You have to do the work." Your Mum waits for an answer. You keep your mouth shut. You //did// the work. It wasn't enough. She knows this. "Sit down. We're going to have dinner and talk about this properly." You say you have [[already eaten.|Upstairs]]] (if: $mumgrades is "lie")[But they won't let you off that easily. Your mum is beaming - "well done, sweetheart. We knew you could do it." You nod. Her eyebrows draw together. "You don't seem too pleased?" You insist that you are. She tells you she has made your favourite meal. She thought you might want to celebrate? You say you [[aren't feeling well.|Upstairs]]]

"Come on then. What did you get?" [[Tell her the truth.|MumTrue2]] [[Lie to her.|MumLie2]]

You run upstairs to your bedroom. You are surprised to find it just as you left it. Untouched by everything that has just happened. It feels like the fire should be here too. Your heart is racing. You try to plan your next move. [[Check social media.|Socials]] [[Call Karim.|KarimCall]] [[Call Jack.|JackCall]]

Here goes. "I failed. Everything." Her face doesn't change. "When will you start thinking about the future?" The future is all anyone ever wants you to think about. She tells you to sit down. [[You go upstairs.|Upstairs]]

Here goes. "It went really well." She smiles. "I knew you could do it!" She starts talking about the future. Next year, and every other year after that. "Do you have the envelope? I want to show your Nan." "I lost it." The lie comes easily. Her smile falters. "I'm not feeling too well." Not a lie. "I'm going to go [[upstairs."|Upstairs]]

(set: $socials to "yes") You open Instagram. Scroll through your friends' stories. //Nail art, results, results, results, results, haircare, flooding in Valencia, house party, football, life hacks, fist fights, dance, dance, dance... // And then you see the fire. At first, you think it is elsewhere. Somewhere hot, prone to burning. Then a link to a news article. //LIVE: Fire tears through saltmarsh.// You feel sick. [[Call Jack.|JackCall]] [[Call Karim.|KarimCall]]

(set: $matecall to "Karim") You look for Karim's number. You realise you don't actually have it saved to your phone. You //never// call each other. You find him in an old group chat. He answers immediately. He sounds tired, hollow. "Hello?" (if: $socials is "yes")["Have you been online?" "Yes," he says, "this is a fucking mess."] "What do we do now?" He goes quiet. [[But you can still hear him breathing.|KarimBreathe]]

(set: $matecall to "Jack") You call Jack. Even finding his number in your contacts feels strange. You //never// call each other. Only WhatsApp, Snap, Facetime. The phone feels too close to your ear. He answers after four rings. He talks quietly. "Hello?" (if: $socials is "yes")[You ask if he's been online. "Yes. I have."] "What do we do?" [["What do you mean?"|JackDoYouMean]]

Several days [[pass...|TimePasses2]]

You don't leave your room. You pretend to be sick. You rarely sleep. When you do, you dream of smoke. (if:$chick is "jacket" OR "bag")[When you close your eyes, you see the chick in the arms of the woman on the parade. You wonder if it is alive.](if:$chick is "broken")[When you close your eyes, you see the body of the chick, lying crumpled on the grass.](if:$chick is "abandoned")[When you close your eyes, you swear you can hear the chick, shrieking over the flames.] You expect [[something bad|SomethingBad]] to happen.

[[And then it does...|CourtSummons]]

[[A letter.|Summons]]

A court [[summons.|Summons2]]

You are suspected of [[arson.|Suspect]]

Several eye witnesses reported that they saw three boys fleeing Thursday night's fire at the saltmarsh. CCTV outside the chippy, the antiques shop, the church, followed you home. You must [[go to court.|Court1]]

You have only ever seen a courtroom on television. It's smaller than you thought it would be. You are wearing the suit your mum bought you for sixth form. She bought it before you'd even done your exams. She is always thinking about [[the future.|CourtFuture]]

You are ushered behind a wooden bench. Jack, Karim and their parents are here. But it is your turn first. The judge starts by asking you a [[simple question.|Question1]]

"Did you cross the barrier and walk out onto the saltmarsh on Thursday evening?" [[Yes.]] [[No.]]

"Yes." Your mouth feels dry. They call forth a witness. It's the woman from the parade. It turns out she is a local conservationist. She confirms that [[she saw you there.|Witness]]

You lie without thinking. And then immediately regret it. (if:$video is "perform")[They bring up an image on the projector. "This video was posted to your friend's Snapchat account the [[night of the incident."|Footage]]] (if:$video is "delete")[They call forth a witness and your stomach drops. It's the woman from the parade. A local conservationist. They ask if she saw you at the edge of the saltmarsh. She does not hesitate. "Yes. I saw him." The judge turns to you. "I would advise you to be [[honest in your answers."|Witness]]]

The Conservationist speaks in short, clear statements. But every now and then her voice shakes a little. She describes seeing the fire spread. She talks about how she cleared the parade to make space for the emergency services. She says she saw three figures - boys - out on the saltmarsh, so she tried to signal to them. To get their attention. She says they fled in different directions. "I didn't get a good look at the others, but he..." She means you. "Stopped right in front of me. I saw [[his face."|StatementCont]]

They press play. It is iPhone footage. Shaky, blurred... But clearly you - jumping over the flames. Blown up on screen it feels like watching another person. The judge raises an eyebrow. "Would you like to change your answer?" You nod, face draining of colour, wishing you'd told Jack to delete it. "Yes, I was there." A witness is [[called.|WitnessCall]]

You recognose her immediately. The woman from the parade. She's a [[conservationist.|Witness]]

"Did he speak to you?" The judge asks. "Not much." She shakes her head. "It was a very quick interaction." (if: $chick is "bag" OR "jacket")[She tells them about the chick. About how you handed it over to her. "He saved it... I don't think he meant any harm."] (if: $ankle is "burn")[She mentions that you were limping. That you seemed hurt.] She seems nice. Kind. You wonder what her evening would have looked like had you not set fire to the boat. Guilt creeps in with the fear. The judge asks about the [[damage to the site.|SiteDamage]]

She reels off consequences breathlessly, flooding the courtroom with losses. She uses words you don't understand. She talks about nesting sites, breeding grounds, botany, she says //sea aster, glasswort, cordgrass, bittern, avocet, redshank...// and you feel like she is [[cursing you.|Curse]]

And when she finishes, there is a silence. It feels like forever. The judge turns back to you. "Were you responsible for causing the fire?" (if:$matecall is "Jack")[Your eyes meet Jack's. You have been friends for so long you can read his mind. //Don't say anything.//](if:$matecall is "Karim")[You try to avoid Karim's eye - but you can't. His eyes slide from you to Jack. //If anyone asks...//] [[Say nothing.|NoConfession]] [["It was my fault."|TakeBlame]] [["Jack did it."|BlameJack]]

You couldn't speak even if you wanted to. Everything you could say feels wrong. You're just not sure anymore. Was it you? Did you do it? It doesn't //sound// like you. You're not the sort of person who destroys things for no reason... [[//Are you?//|FaceIt]]

It is hard to say it, but there is some relief. Because it feels a bit true. You were there. It was your lighter. Yes, it was you. You made something happen. A bad thing, sure, but //something.// And you became responsible. And it is awful. And it is [[incredible...|Matter]]

Jack stares at you. It's a look you've never seen before. You can't meet his eye. The judge asks Karim - "Is that true? Was Mr. West responsible?" Karim says yes. Yes, it was Jack's fault. We wanted to leave. He wouldn't let us. You're finding it hard to swallow. They find him guilty. And you are asked [[to leave.|JackSentence]]

She talks about carbon sinks, about accretion and erosion, about pioneer plants, about a landscape developed over decades, a //globally significant, incredibly rare eco-system.// She says it will take years to recover, if it ever does. You feel she cannot be talking about //your// coast. Your shitty, nowhere to go, nothing to do coast. You want her to know you didn't know. You didn't know, or care, or think... The future is a place that never felt real to you. You only wanted to [[burn it off, make space for something new.|WitnessStatementCont]]

Time passes. Jack must agree to pay a fine, and complete a contract of restorative measures. He does not go to college with Karim. You do not speak to either of them. You [[keep to yourself.|JackService]]

Karim suddenly interjects... "It was Jack's fault." The Judge asks you - "is this true?" [["Yes".|BackKarim]] [["He's lying."|DiscreditKarim.]]

The judge turns to you. "Was Mr. West responsible?" You find yourself saying yes. Because you are tired. Because you want to go home. Because you want all this to be over. Because you don't want to be alone. Because someone has to be responsible. And your future is marred enough. You deserve an out, don't you? [[//Don't you?//|AnOut]]

Karim glares at you. The Judge looks surprised. "Is he? So who was it?" [[Say nothing.|StaySilent]] [["It was me."|TakeBlame]]

...Because it means you //matter.// When asked the same question: //were you responsible for starting the fire?// Jack and Karim say nothing. They are going to college next year. You are collateral. You feel something ending. You plead guilty. Your friends leave the courtroom while you are given your [[sentence.|ReferralOrder]]

You must agree to a contract of rehabilitative and restorative justice to be carried out in the coming months. This will include: A fine. 40 hours of community service with a local wildlife charity. A series of workshops and group counselling sessions designed to combat anti-social behaviour. Regular meetings with the youth offender panel, accompanied by a guardian. You [[sign on the dotted line.|LoneSentence]]

Time passes. Jack and Karim start college. You don't hear from them anymore. Days, weeks pass... You begin [[community service.|SoloCommunity]]

They find Jack guilty. You and Karim are asked [[to leave.|JackSentence]]

You keep your mouth shut. Nothing feels right, or good, or true. You did it. You didn't do it. You// were// there, but... You did// mean// for anything to... Jack and Karim do not confess. You won't look at each other. You all stay silent. The Judge explains that there is sufficient evidence to indicate at least one of you was responsible for causing the fire. A lack of confession from all three parties means you will all be found guilty. "None of you did it. [[//So you all did it."//|GroupSentence]]

You must all agree to a contract of rehabilitative and restorative justice to be carried out in the coming months. This will include: A fine. 40 hours of community service with a local wildlife charity. A series of workshops and group counselling sessions designed to combat anti-social behaviour. Regular meetings with the youth offender panel, accompanied by a guardian. You all [[sign on the dotted line.|GroupCommunity]]

And then one day, you find yourself on the parade. You can see a [[figure on the saltmarsh.|ItsJack]]

Time passes. The three of you begin your community service. The Conservationist from the courtroom is in charge of overseeing your work. You are digging trenches in the saltmarsh to act as firebreaks. She says you are [[//safeguarding the future.//|LeftBehindCons]]

You are working to restore the saltmarsh - digging trenches to act as firebreaks. It is hard work. Your arms ache. The Conservationist from the court is your boss. You get to know her. You like her. She tells you the names for things. //Scurvy grass, sea lavender, perennial sow thistle... // She lets you be quiet. When you spend so much time outside, the [[world feels big.|Outdoors]]

It is late afternoon. You have nearly finished work for the day. "You're good at this," says the Conservationist. (if:$chick is "jacket" or "bag")["Am I?" She says she knew you would be. "You saved that chick. You clearly care."] (if:$chick is "abandoned")["I don't think so." You tell her about the chick. About leaving it to the blaze. About how you could have done something, but you didn't. She nods slowly... "Will you next time?" She asks. "What?" "Do something." "I hope so." "Good. I'll hold you to it."] (if:$chick is "broken")["I don't think so." You tell her about the chick. You can still see it, lying broken on the ground. You tell her that you tried to help, and you made things worse. She nods. She says - "that happens." Then she shrugs - "try again."] A large bird hovers overhead. You know its name now. [["Marsh harrier."|LostMate]]

The cordgrass is blackened and the smell of smoke hangs in the air. The distant water glitters in the sun. You dig deep into the earth. You think of the future. [[Start again?|Start]] [[Credits.|Thanks]]

The Conservationist gazes upwards, shields her eyes. "He'll be confused. The land looks different." You close your eyes, and send an upward sorry. [[You mean it.|BeautyEnding]]

It is nearing the end of the day. Jack and Karim are putting away their tools. They talk about college next year. You try not to feel left beind. The Conservationist appears at your side. "Are you going to college too?" You shake your head. "What will you do?" You shrug. She takes a moment. "I might need some [[help here."|HelpHere]]

"What?" You ask. "You're good at this." She says. (if:$chick is "jacket" or "bag")["Am I?" She says she knew you would be. "You saved that chick. You clearly care."] (if:$chick is "abandoned")["I don't think so." You tell her about the chick. About leaving it to the blaze. About how you could have done something, but you didn't. She nods slowly... "Will you next time?" She asks. "What?" "Do something." "I hope so." "Good. I'll hold you to it."] (if:$chick is "broken")["I don't think so." You tell her about the chick. You can still see it, lying broken on the ground. You tell her that you tried to help, and you made things worse. She nods. She says - "that happens."Then she shrugs - "try again."] A huge bird hovers overhead. You know its name now. "Hey, look. [[Marsh harrier."|PledgeEnding]]

You all look to the sky. "She's lost." The Conservationist says. "The land looks different. She can't find her nest." You want to say sorry. When the shift ends, [[you stay out.|StayOutWatch]]

The sky is burning orange, purple, pink... Your fire breaks snake between the reeds. "We did that." Karim says. "We did //all that."// You did. All of it. You promise to keep coming back. In the summers, even after the contract has ended, you will keep coming back here. Keep helping. Watch it grow. Jack is the first to stand. "Same again tomorrow?" [[Start again?|Start]] [[Credits.|Thanks]]

It's Jack. You step out onto the reedbed. You know you shouldn't be here. "Jack?" He doesn't look at you. "What are you doing?" "Digging trenches. For firebreaks." "Oh." It looks hard. You are about to offer to help but - [["Why'd you do it?"|WhyBlame]]

"Do what?" "Blame it all on me." He looks up from his work. [["It //was// your fault."|Deflect]] [["I don't know."|Apologise]]

Jack looks at you, his face doesn't change. "Do you really believe that?" You nod, but you're not sure you do. His gaze drifts upwards. An enormous bird is hovering above your heads. "Marsh harrier." Jack says. "She's lost, because the ground looks different. She can't find her nest." He turns [[away and keeps working.|Detached ending]]

"I'm sorry. I panicked - I didn't know what to..." Jack puts his headphones in and keeps digging. A woman comes over. It's the [[Conservationist from the courtroom.|ChatEnd]]

You watch the bird. It stays pinned in one place. Then traces a pointless circle. The ground looks different. So what? The future's fucked anyway. [[Start again?|Start]] [[Credits.|Thanks]]

She is overseeing Jack's community service. "I recognise you." She says. She means, //you should be doing this too.// (if:$chick is "jacket" or "bag")[She says she knows you care. You saved that chick. You ask if it is okay. She says it will be. In time.] (if:$chick is "abandoned")[You tell her about the chick. You left it in the fire. You can't stop thinking about it. She hands you a spade.] (if:$chick is "broken")[You tell her about the chick. About how you can't stop thinking about it, broken on the grass. You tried to help it, but you made things worse. She asks if you want to help. You pick up a spade.] A large bird hovers overhead. "What's that?" You point. "Marsh harrier." She says. "She's lost. Confused because the earth looks different." You keep your [[eyes fixed on the bird.|RegretEnding]]

You close your eyes and try to extend a sorry. Sorry Jack. Sorry Bird. Sorry Earth. Sorry to the whole sorry lot of it. You try to mean it. [[Start again?|Start]] [[Credits.|Thanks]]

There is an estuary, where the river meets the sea. There is freshwater, and saltwater. Fluvial sediment and slow moving tides... There are [[mudflats.|Mudflats]]

And the mudflats are made of fine silt and clay, fertile, teeming with potential. And you aren't quite here yet. But [[you will be...|MudFlats2]]

The mudflats flood... The river feeds them, they grow... The tide retreats, they are exposed and... [[Something clings on.|Plants]]

Against the odds, a pioneer takes root. This is how you start. Salty. Hard to live with. But there is something here that doesn't mind. Something stubborn enough, something hardy enough, something that cares enough about living to dig its fingers in... [[Sea Aster]] [[Glasswort]] [[Scurvygrass]]

Sea Aster. A rooted constellation. //Tripolium Pannonicum// Tri polis, three citizens, doctors, for wounds, for dropsy... Lanceolate leaves, purple ray florets. Tiny spiky daisy sprites busting out the mud. And where there's green, there's food. And where there's food, there's [[hunger.|Insects]]

//Salicornia Europaea.// Common glasswort. Or Samphire, if you want to eat it. Saint Pierre, the patron saint of fishermen. Tumescent, standing proud in the sand. And where there's food, there's [[hunger...|Insects]]

//Cochlearia,// about 30 different types... Estuarine, English, Arctic, Three Fingered, Common... Once Horseradish and Wasabi. Scurvygrass. Four white petals, reaching. Pepper bitter leaves travelling inland, pollinated by the wheels of a second hand Honda Civic, colonising salt-rich-post-grit roadsides. The sailor's friend. And where there's green, there's food. And where there's food, [[there's hunger.|Insects]]

Arthropods, invertebrates, mini fauna, the creepies crawling all over the shop. You are not quite here yet// (be patient!!!)// ...But they are. [[Sea Aster Mining Bee]] [[Narrow mouthed whorl snail]] [[Saltmarsh shortspur beetle]]

//Colletes halophilus.// Halophile. Salt lover. Sea aster mining bee. Fussy eater, near threatened solitary workman. Nesting in bare soil, squatting in warrens, waiting for... August! Emerging just in time, //perfectly// timed, for the alignment of the stars, flowers opening, and where there's green, there's hunger... And where there's hunger, [[there's a chain...|Birds]]

//Vertigo angustior//, narrow mouthed whorl snail. Micromollusk, smaller than your fingernail... Softness hidden behind clenched teeth; a sinistral aperture with built-in home security. //TRESPASSERS, PREDATORS, KEEP OUT// A rarity, the colour of earwax, clinging to the root... Prefers some sun, at risk of trampling... [[At risk of...|Birds]]

//Anisodactylus poeciloides// The saltmarsh shortspur beetle. //Often confused with, sometimes mistaken for, blink and you'd think it's...// Something more common. Picture a bug. The archetypal bug. A rubber toy from a museum gift shop. Metallic, copper green, armour plated... Got it? Now give it life. Make it move. Have it crawl. Antennae probing, gentle, careful, unsuspecting... There's [[something overhead...|Birds]]

Birds. Descend and feast. Living dinosaurs with pneumatic bones. //Deep breath// - all the way into your skeleton... You aren't here yet... Nearly, //nearly!// But they are. [[Marsh Harrier|SMMarsh Harrier]] [[Bittern|SMBittern]] [[Plover|SMPlover]]

//Circus aeruginosus.// Marsh harrier. Back from the grave. Erupts out of the reeds and stays, dark V pinned to the nothing blue... Beating out a pattern, scoop wings with flashes of white, feathered morse - //flap, flap - hover - flap, flap - hover// - eyes trained on the ground... Then sky dancing, talons locked, death-defying, barrel rolling //and for my next trick...// Make visible the air, make visible gravity, falling in [[love.|Ecosystem]]

//Botaurus Stellaris.// Bittern. Bog-trotter. Mire Drumble. Butter Bump. Bull of the Mire. Ridiculous thing. //"A thickset heron, a secretive bird, very difficult to see with a daggerlike bill..."// Foghorn booms from the reedbed. Wheezing flatulent tuba crying - //I'm here, I'm here, I'm here... // Then //freeze!// At the first sign of disturbance... Head pointing straight up, false reed with cryptic plumage - bitterning, it disappears itself. [[Becomes the saltmarsh...|Ecosystem]]

//Charadrius hiaticula.// The ringed plover. Shrill whistling, quick darting, bandit-masked, orange-legged... Burst into the air like the reedbed sneezed - a glittering scattergraph of bodies, caught in the wind, tilting and banking... Then, at the first sign of trouble: hit the deck and fake a war wound! //And the Oscar for [[best "broken wing" goes to...|Ecosystem]]//

You take your time. You won't be rushed. You spend fifty years growing... Half a century in the making... While just [[over the border...|Border]]

A town is made and remade five times over Motorcars, television, space flight, a school, an apartment building. //People.// You ignore them. As best you can. Do your own thing. A human free gap. Smelling of wet dog, damp in the attic. You're here. Finally, you're //here! // The rain stops and the cloud lifts and hills appear on the distant side of the estuary. The world scurries around you while quietly you are... [[Accreting salt]] [[Sinking carbon]] [[Filtering pesticides]]

Fifty years in, you're still growing - //onwards and upwards!// - to meet the rising tide. And in your vertical accretion, your growing wall of salt, you absorb the shock of the waves, you hold fast, you buffer against the tantrum of storm surges. You block out the noise. You talk down the flood. Where the sea would swallow the coast, you're there... And you have no concept of days... [[But one day...|One day]]

The mess of you, your tangled web of muck breathes in carbon and makes it blue. Locks it in layers of sediment... You sequester at a rate faster than forests - the Amazon could //never... // And so with no fuss, no frills, you're here, (here you are, miracle you!) coaxing us out of our own mess. And you have no concept of days... But then [[one day...|One day]]

Reedbed kidneys gently sucking up poisons, herbicides, hydrocarbons, heavy metals... You're cleaning the water, free of charge. You don't even have to //try.// You're not even showing off. This is just the sort of thing you're good at. And you have no concept of days. But then [[one day...|One day]]

You catch fire. Which sounds dramatic. But really, it's just a blip. A bad day. In the grand scheme of things, in //your// time, slow time... You don't care who started it. You wait it out, as [[tears across your skin...|Fire]]

You //were //sleeping. You were cold, damp, heavy... But the fire wakes you up. The wild gold of the saltmarsh stirs to watch with its many eyes. And finds a foreign object. Purple plastic, like a shiny beetle, filled with naptha - out of place. The blaze passes in a day. Flash in the pan. Leaves a black scar across your back. [[A year passes.|1Year]]

A year of loss. Your contours look different - charred and alien. A waste. The marsh harriers can't find their nests. They trace sorry circles in the air, scanning your back for something familiar. The hum of mining bees falls silent. There is too much silence. This hurts. You try to go back to sleep. You have bad dreams. [[2 years pass.|2Years]]

You cannot ask for help, but it comes. A scattering of rescuers from over the wall. Volunteers. You feel them like ants, crawling across your back. They tread carefully, dig trenches, fire breaks, trace cracks across your skin... If you burn again, it will be contained. They try to learn your time. They try to play the long game. You will take years to recover. They are willing to wait. //We are doing this for those we are yet to meet. We are doing this, so one day you will be restored. We are doing this, so the birds come back. // Your future is a gift. A promise. A prayer. [[10 years pass.|10Years]]

Some of the volunteers die. Others move on, start families. You stay put. Accreting, sequestering... You weather the years as best you can... It gets hotter. You dry out. You are on fire. Again. [[50 years pass.|50years]]

After the fire, the flood. //You can't catch a break!// The water rises, gnawing the coast... Elsewhere, cars are carried down rivers. Elsewhere, whole villages relocate. Elsewhere, livestock drown. But the people over the border have you. You're still here. Absorbing the waves. Swallowing the shock. You are the last defence. [[100 years pass.|100Years]]

But you cannot save them from sickness. Not this time. Some bad new disease carried by droplets, insects, finger tips. No beds, no staff, no graves, no funerals. You sleep. You sleep. You sleep. [[200 years pass.|200Years]]

And as you sleep, you shrink. Some of your land reclaimed for grave space. Marsh burials. Bog bodies. Some for feeding the surviving cattle. The wind picks up, blasting your surface, tearing your pioneers from the root. You feel old. You feel tired. You grow weak. You cannot fight the storms. [[500 years pass.|500Years]]

The town is gone. Nearly //all// gone, except for... A woman. Leaving a driftwood hut on the fringes of the storm cracked promenade. She trudges through the mud and harvests samphire from your back. Glasswort. Fat, green stems. As they are plucked from your skin you... Wake... Up... //Wake. Up! // She's here for you. She likes to taste the sea, the green... She is about to head home, but something catches her eye. A small object - cracked, purple plastic, sticking out of the mud. She picks it up. She takes it home. [[550 years pass.|550Years]]

You watch her grow old. You grow old with her. Until one night, she stumbles out of her hut and onto your back. She drops to her knees, the purple plastic hung on a string around her neck. A dayglo talisman. And as the sky grows dark, she falls asleep to the booming calls of the last bittern. You fold her into your many arms. Salt crusts crusts over her eyelids, her lips. She is cured. Together, you fall asleep. [[1000 years pass.|1000Years]]

You sleep. A //deep //sleep. The best you've had in years. Dreamless. Undisturbed. A human free gap. Your snores a humming chorus of bees. New plant species migrate to your edges, straining for the water, pioneers. Old birds wheel overhead. Dancing, skriking. Things continue. Things come back. This isn't the end. [[Start again?|Start]] [[Credits.|Thanks]]

You have lived in this town for 5 years. You moved because your partner wanted to be closer to the coast. It's good for you, [[being by the sea.|TheSea]]

Only you're not really by the sea here, are you? You're by an estuary. A saltmarsh. Where the river //meets// the sea. You tried to point this out to her, but she said you were being negative. She was right. [[(She's usually right.)|Right]]

Because you love it here. You love your life together. You love [[your work.|YourWork]]

You are a conservationist. An Assistant Warden for a nature charity. Responsible for habitat management, species surveying, managing volunteers. It took you 10 years, but you finally worked out what you want to do. And what you want to do, is be outside. As much as possible. [[With all this.|AllThis]]

Today, you arrive on the parade a little early. It's a beautiful day - one of those rare, hot, dry days where everyone else stumbles out and sees - as if for the first time - what you have always seen. //Yes, the sky has always been that big. Yes, we live in a beautiful place. [[Yes, we are so, so lucky.|Lucky]] //

Tonight, you're covering the evening shift. You cycle down the parade - past shops, flats, the chippy... The road runs parallel to the saltmarsh; a clean line between the familiar and the strange. The known and unknown. You arrive at the [[patrol hut.|PatrolHut]]

It's a small shed. Too cold in winter, too warm in summer. Shabby, but tidy. //A place for everything and everything in its place. // On the wall - a map of the area, bird spotters guides, the countryside code, an emergency contact sheet. A set of shelves - various pieces of recording equipment, a first aid kit, binoculars. And most important of all... The tea station. [[Ginni is here. She works with you.|Ginni]]

More than that, she showed you the ropes. Ginni is exactly the sort of person you want in a crisis. Unflappable, reassuring, wickedly funny. She smiles as you come in. "You're early, pet." "Wonders never cease, huh?" She finds a couple of tin mugs. "Will I make you a cup of tea?" "If you're offering. Ta, Gin." "What'll it be?" [[Yorkshire.]] [[Peppermint.]]

Ginni passes you a cup. She knows just how you like it - strong enough for the spoon to stand. One sugar. A hobnob on the side. It's the best brew you've had all day. You offer Ginni the biscuits. She takes one and asks... "How's [[Laura?"|GinniPartner]]

You take a sip of hot, soft peppermint and quietly wish for something stronger. You've been trying to quit caffeine. You've had a lot of sleepless nights lately. //There must be something on your mind.// Ginni sees right through you and asks - [["How's Laura?"|GinniPartner]]

Laura is your partner. Wife. Spouse. None of the words ever seem right for what Laura is... //Who// Laura is to you which is... Pretty much everything. "She's doing well." You find yourself saying. Because there isn't a neat way to say how she's //really// doing [[which is...|HowIsLaura]]

Pretty fucking miraculous, actually. Given the six rounds of private IVF, two on the NHS, endless fucking doctor's appointments, finally getting pregnant against all odds, then navigating the unsolicited opinions of every single person she meets, not to mention her side hustle in managing //your// general incompetence and terror... "Yeah, she's doing well." Ginni grins. "And how are //you// feeling about becoming a mum?" [["I'm looking forward to it!"|Excited]] [["I'm getting kind of nervous..."|Terrified]]

"I'd be worried if you weren't." Ginni winks. She has four boys. //Four. Boys.// "What do I do, Gin?" "Keep it alive. Love it. Don't worry too much." Just talking about it has the panic rising in your throat. You change the subject. "How are things on the marsh? [[Anything I need to look out for?"|LookOut]]

And it's true. You //are// excited. Motherhood was one of those things you never allowed yourself to think about. It seemed so unlikely it wasn't worth entertaining. At a young age you learned that there are some futures built for you, and some that aren't. It seemed selfish in a way, projecting yourself forward like that. And yet, when the right person comes along... "I'm happy for you, pet." Ginni says. And means it. You want to tell Ginni that she is the single most stable, reliable, brilliant person in your life. (Besides Laura.) Instead, you ask, "how's it looking out there today? [[Anything I should watch out for?"|LookOut]]

Ginni thinks... "It's GCSE results day." "Great. So pissed teens wandering over the estuary?" She gives you a look. "They're allowed their fun. Besides, kids these days are very sensible. My son and his mates are celebrating with pizza and a movie. Not even a drop of White Lightning." "How did he do?" She laughs. "He got what he needed. Some kind of miracle." "Possible influx of sensible teens. Noted. [[Is that everything?"|IsThatAll]]

"Just about. I've got two things to do before I go." She starts packing her rucksack, downs the rest of her tea. "Give me one, and you can get off early." "You're an angel. I spotted a group of birders stepping onto the saltmarsh about ten minutes ago. Obviously need to have a word." "Obviously." "And we need to take some cuttings for the reclamation project. Sea Aster." You finish your tea, nick another biscuit. [["Ooh. Tough choice."|ToughChoice]]

You find the birders well beyond the border. Four of them, three men and a woman, kitted out in waterproof trousers and lightweight anoraks. They've ignored the signs telling them the saltmarsh is out of bounds. They're hoping for a glimpse of a bittern. But they're trampling all over the nesting site. You wave at them as you approach. //Right then. How do you want to play this?// [[Tough love.|BirdersStern]] [[Be nice.|BirdersKind]]

You pick your way across the saltmarsh, a bag of equipment in hand. The ground feels spongy underfoot. The smell is damp, earthy. You breathe it in... You keep your eyes trained on the ground, scanning the mud. You try to make a game of it, imagining yourself an alien visitor scanning for signs of life. //Ding! Ding! Ding! // They're everywhere. Everything is alive... But this isn't what you're looking for... Nor that... [[Nor //that...//|There!]]

You'd never admit it, but you quite enjoy playing bad cop. You cut straight to the chase. "You need to leave." A beardy bloke seems to nominate himself as leader. "I'm sorry?" "I'm the assistant warden for this site. I'm here to tell you that you're not supposed to walk out onto the saltmarsh. You have to leave, now." Beardy pipes up, [["we're just enjoying the wildlife."|EnjoyTheWildlife]]

You conjure your friendliest smile. "Hi guys!" You say. Warmth doesn't come too naturally to you, but you do your best. "Sorry to bother, but you're not supposed to be out here." The woman looks horribly embarrassed. "Are we not? We're so sorry!" "It's alright - but I'm afraid you'll have to head back to the shore. As I'm sure you know, there's lots of ground nesting species out here. You might step on a nest." The woman's eyes widen, "that's the last thing we'd want to do!" The men nod fervently. [[//It's the last thing they'd want to do!//|TheLastThing]]

But now you're on a roll, you can't seem to stop... "It's trespass. Worse, it's ignorant, selfish behaviour." You're not sure if the trespass bit is true. But it feels right. Beardy finds his bottle again - "there's no need to be rude." [["Please leave. I won't ask again."|OrderLeave]]

(set:$birders to "bad") The woman takes the beardy man's arm, shoots you daggers. "We'll be complaining about you," he says, as she leads him away. Job done. You want to feel victorious, but it's left a bad taste in your mouth. You never liked this part of yourself. Is this the sort of parent you'll be? You return to the [[parade.|CParade2]]

As you walk back towards the patrol hut, the sun is starting to sink. The sunsets here are unlike any other on earth. Your pocket vibrates. Laura is calling you. [[Pick it up.|AnswerCall]]

(set:$birders to "good") You bring the binoculars to your eyes and search the blue. //There.// A dark V pinned in the air. A marsh harrier. It hovers, looking down as you look up. "Beautiful, isn't she?" The woman asks. You agree - she is - as you hand back the binoculars. "Sorry for any trouble." She says. "We'll stick to the parade." You give your politest smile and watch as they pick their way toward the road, making a great pantomime of treading carefully. You breathe out. [[You follow them.|CParade2]]

You take out a pair of sharp scissors and make a clean cut just below a [[leaf junction.|Pot]]

//There!// Sea Aster. //Tripolium Pannonicum// Fleshy green lanceolate leaves, delicate purple flowers. And there it is, that little surge of joy that comes with recognition, with knowing things, with knowing the name for things. You kneel, gently take the stem in hand... [[And find a non-flowering shoot.|Shoot]]

(set:$cuttings to "yes") ...And put her into a smaller bag you keep on hand for litter. Sea plastic. It's usually full in half an hour. You hold the plant pot gently - //(be careful with this future!)// - and head back to [[the parade.|CParade2]]

You take out a pot, filled with sand. You [[plant the cutting in the pot...|ClingFilm]]

Then stretch some old cling film over the top to keep the moisture in... Job done. This little plant will grow, before being relocated further down the coast, restoring some other - eroded, less lucky - saltmarsh. A sea aster mining bee buzzes past. You make a quiet apology for stealing his lunch. [[It's for a good cause...|GoodCause]]

As you stand, you notice something bright sticking out of the mud. You scrape the sand away. A headless Barbie doll. Naked. You pull her [[out of the sand.|Litter]]

"Hey, I just got to work. Everything okay?" She was asleep when you left the house. Your parents told you about the panic of a first pregnancy. About how every tiny thing becomes suspicious, every minor detail a threat. Every day feels ripe with potential disaster. Every time you slide into bed with her, every night spent listening to her breathe in the dark, is a narrow escape from the sort of life defining tragedy you simply can't come back from. "My back hurts. I've got cramps." [[Her due date isn't for another two weeks.|DueDateFar]]

(if:$birders is "good")[You try to remember that this has happened before. False alarms. Still warm from your encounter with the birders, you find your best soothing voice. "I'm sure everything's okay. I can't come home yet..." You promise to drop your sister a message and tell her to come round. You take some deep breaths together, listen to the life of her crackle down the phone... She promises to call again if things get worse.] (if:$birders is "bad")["I'm sure it's fine." It comes out harsher than intended. The tightness hasn't left your chest since your encounter with the birders. "Just - do some breathing..." She asks again. //Come home.// "I'm sorry - I can't..." Neither of you earn enough as is. You can't be skipping shifts. You try to make it better, try to tell her you love her... But she doesn't want to hear it.] (if:$cuttings is "yes")[You try to reassure her, but you're struggling to carry your phone and the sea aster pot. You drop the cuttings. The sand smears into the pavement. A possible future disappears. "I'm really sorry," you say. You've been saying that a lot lately. "I can't come home just now. Hang on okay? I'm sure everything's fine."] You hang up. Take a breath. And notice a thick cloud of [[smoke, blooming over the saltmarsh.|Smoke]]

It's on fire. The saltmarsh is on fire. And it's spreading - fast. Like a conjuring. A double-take. A trick-of-the-light. Not there... //There. // A host of flaming angels suddenly materialise and dance against the darkening sky. A crowd gathers on the parade behind you. You tell the nearest person to call 999. You need to [[clear the area.|ClearParade]]

You swallow your own panic and raise your voice above the crowd. "Everyone, you need to step back. Move well away from the border please. Please! Step back, make room for the emergency services. Step back!" But they don't listen, eyes fixed on the display, phones held aloft. You wish Ginni hadn't left. You scan the crowd. (if:$birders is "good")[You spot the birders from earlier and [[wave to them.|BirdersHelp]]] (if:$birders is "bad")[You spot the birders from earlier. You try to [[grab their attention.|BirdersIgnore]]] (if:$cuttings is "yes")[You spot a group of birders - perhaps the ones Ginni spoke to earlier? You [[call out to them.|BirdersCall]]]

Beardy man comes over to you, clearly keen to make up for their trespassing earlier. "We need to clear the parade. Spread the word, form a barrier, make sure everyone stays well on the other side of the road. Can you do that?" He salutes - completely seriously - and heads to the birders to organise his troops. The parade clears, and just as you're trying to decide what to do next. You feel a hand on your arm. Somebody is pointing, saying - [["Look!"|Figures]]

The birders ignore you. Beardy man definitely //sees// you, but he chooses to ignore you. You suck it up. You probably deserved that. Throwing your weight around... The crowd grows. You can't get them to move on your own... But you don't have time to worry about that... Because you see something out on [[the saltmarsh.|Figures]]

You make your way over to their huddle of waterproofs. "Hello - did my colleague speak to you earlier?" A bearded man steps forward, looking guilty - "yes, sorry about that." "We've got bigger problems now. I need to clear the parade. Can you help?" They're nodding before you even [[get to the instruction -|Instruction]]

You stare into the distance and can just about make out three shapes - figures - standing close to the fire. Not big enough to be men - teenagers, maybe? They shove each other - angry shadow puppets gesticulating - you can't hear their voices for the crowd, the sirens, the flames. You watch as they back away from the smoke and head towards the parade. You wave at them, trying to grab [[their attention.|Wave]]

They see you. They definitely see you. Because they stop - for such a brief moment they stop - and then scatter, running in different directions. There isn't time to follow them all. So you focus on one, the smallest, stumbling over the saltmarsh. You intercept him as he reaches the road. It's a [[teenage boy.|TeenBoy]]

"Are you okay?" You ask. He stares at you, wild-eyed. Then opens his coat. You flinch, step back, as he [[pulls something out...|ChickReveal]]

It's a marsh harrier chick. A ball of white, downy fluff, squirming, talons scratching his hands to ribbons. The boy doesn't speak, only moves closer. You try to take in as many details as you can... [[His height...]]

Five foot four maybe? Shorter than the other two. His hood is pulled up, but you notice [[his eyes...]]

Bright, wide, brown eyes. You try to pay attention to [[what he's wearing...|Clothing]]

Light black jacket, grey North Face t-shirt, faded jeans, black Nike trainers. You try to talk to him. [["Hey - are you okay?"|BoySoft]] [["What are you doing? Give me the chick."|BoyHarsh]]

His mouth opens, but no sound comes out. He doesn't //look// okay. The chick strains its neck, flaps its useless not-quite-wings. You speak softly - "can you give me the chick?" He nods, but doesn't move. You take off your jacket and hold it out. He still doesn't move. "It's okay. I'll look after it." Gently, he hands the chick over to you. You [[swaddle it.|ChickJacket]]

"Give it to me." You say again. You hear the edge in your voice, see the fear in his eyes. "You're going to hurt it." The boy steps back. You step forward. The chick squirms, scratches at his face. He yells. It falls to the ground. Lands awkwardly. Crumpled. Not quite-wings snapped. You both stop. Both [[stare at the ground.|Chick2Dead]]

(set:$chick2 to "alive") You feel the chick struggling under the fabric. You look up to thank him... But he's already gone, running down the parade, disappearing into the crowds. You head back [[to the patrol hut.|PatrolHut2]]

(set:$chick2 to "dead") There is a pause. A horrible ten seconds of regret. Ten seconds of //it's dead, it's dead, it's dead.// You look up, lock eyes and then... He turns. He runs. Disappears into the crowds. You scoop up the tiny, broken body, put it in your jacket. You head back to the [[patrol hut.|PatrolHut2]]

You arrive back at the hut. The sounds of panic, sirens, shouting are muffled in here... You need to focus. (if:$chick2 is "alive")[You need to keep the chick alive and [[warm.|KeepAlive]]] (if:$chick2 is "dead")[You lay the chick down on the desk. You don't know [[what to do.|ChickHopeless]]]

The chick has fallen silent. Your throat tightens. But you can still see the down on its chest rising and falling... You grab a tea towel from by the kettle, a musty fleece from the hook by the door. You tear kitchen roll into strips. You build a nest. You switch on the electric heater. You place the chick in the centre of the fluff and fabric. Its head lolls to one side. [[You hold your breath.|Inhale]]

You stare at its body, lying prone, feathers patchy, wings broken... It looks like an abandoned puppet, sad, ridiculous, waiting for a hand to give it some life. You feel a potential future disappear. Something rises in your [[throat.|Pain]]

The cries out. It's alive. You [[exhale.|DeepBreath]]

You have saved a life. But the job is never finished. The chick screeches for food. He'll need to eat four times a day. You need a mouse... Or a frog... You don't have either of those. The chick will have to wait. The fire rages outside. And your [[phone rings again.|PartnerCall2]]

You swallow the feeling - let it drop like a stone to the very pit of your stomach. You can't sit here for long. The fire is still raging outside. You are about to head out again... But [[your phone rings.|PartnerCall2]]

The screen says LAURA, but when you answer it's your sister. "Laura's gone into labour." "What?" "Something's wrong. We're at the hospital. You need to come now." And suddenly, all the sound drops away. And clear as a bell, you can hear your Mum saying. [[//It never rains...//|LeaveHut]]

You leave the hut and walk along the parade... A line of fire fighters with strange rubber beaters advance on the blaze, slapping the ground. A second team releases a sudden arc of water from a hose to the air. It would all feel quite cinematic, if it wasn't devastating. The police are setting up a cordon to keep the crowds away. You can do nothing more to help. You are needed elsewhere. So you [[head for the hospital.|HospitalJourney]]

This place is a maze. Even after all your appointments, the fertility clinic, the ultrasounds... You get turned around on the second floor, end up on the dialysis ward... Realise you're in the wrong building entirely. Feel //stupid, stupid, stupid...// Until a nurse finally [[points you in the right direction...|FindHer]]

Laura has her own room. Your sister sits in a chair by the bed. "Have you been smoking?" She asks. "Your clothes stink." Laura is asleep. Every worst case scenario seems to be waiting at the door, peeking through the window. Your sister stands. "Emergency c-section." You don't want to ask. She takes your hand. [["Come with me."|Incubator]]

The journey takes over an hour. It is the longest hour of your life (to date.) In the chaos of the fire, your [[bike has been stolen.|NoBike]]

So you [[order a taxi.|Taxi]]

Get stuck in [[traffic...|Traffic]]

Get out at some [[traffic lights...|RunToHosp]]

And run, in your heavy boots, for fifteen minutes. But then [[here you are.|Hospital]]

And leads you to another room, where your son lies in an incubator. He is tiny. The light in here is too bright. (if:$chick2 is "alive")[You suddenly remember the marsh harrier chick, mouth gasping in its [[makeshift nest.|ForgotChick]]] (if:$chick2 is "dead")[You try not to think about the marsh harrier chick, lying [[broken on your desk.|RememberChick]]]

You stand silently for a while. You text Ginni. //The baby's here.// She responds immediately. //Congratulations! Welcome to the rest of your life...!// You send another text. There's a marsh harrier chick on her desk. You're sorry to ask but... //I'll head back to the hut. Don't worry. // [[Time passes.|TimePass2]]

You send Ginni a text. //Laura's had the baby.// She responds immediately. //Congrats! The great adventure awaits...!// You try not to think about the chick. [[You can't not think about the chick.|CantNotThink]]

A rapid succession of days. Your family visits... Laura's family visits... You are never alone together. You chuck names around, //Tom, Matt, Lucas...// Discard those of school bullies, cousins, first lovers, land on... //Robin.// Or Robbie, if he likes. When he is well enough, Laura tells you to stand down for the afternoon. "Go back to the site." She says. She means, "you're stressing me out." [[You visit the site.|VisitSite]]

The parade is deserted. The saltmarsh is completely transformed. Razed to the ground. The reeds are balding in patches, the mudflat scarred over with ash. It will take years to [[recover.|Ruins]]

The air feels dead. There is no sound. No birds, no insects... //Unrecognisable// feels like the wrong word. You //do// recognise it, you recognise everything, and it's all burned to fuck. You feel like you need to... [[Take a moment.|Grief]] [[Do something.|DoSomething]]

You walk to the closest bench... You sit. You scan the landscape, slowly from left to right... You take a breath. Something builds in your chest, you want to cry. [[You can cry, if you want.|Cry]]

You head to the patrol hut. It's empty. (if:$chick2 is "alive")[The chick has been moved to a sanctuary further inland. He's growing well.] (if:$chick2 is "dead")[You know Ginni has moved the chick, but suddenly you can't face going in there.] You pause at the door. There's nothing to do. The volunteers have all been called off. You try to tidy up, collecting dirty mugs and scraps of paper - anything to quash this new feeling rising in your throat. It reaches your mouth, pushes against the back of your teeth, threatens to come out and then... [[A hand on your arm.|HandGinni]]

You can do whatever you need to do. You sit with it. For as long as you need. Until something lifts from your shoulders. Remember this. You will begin again [[tomorrow.|Tomorrow]]

You are called to court. You are told they have arrested three teenage boys on suspicion of arson. There is a hearing in the next few weeks, and as the ranger who was on duty during the incident you are called to give evidence. You have never done anything like this before. Laura tells you to just do your best. "Tell the story, as clearly as you can, as well as you remember it." But after sleepless nights with Robin, waking every few hours to feed him, soothe him, panic and check he's still breathing... You struggle to remember your own name, let alone [[what happened that night.|Evidence]]

It's Ginni. "Stop moving, love." You do. She pulls you into a hug. Are you crying? You might be crying. "Is there anything I can do?" "Go home." She says. "Sleep. Be with your family." She's right. There's nothing you can do right now. But there's always [[tomorrow.|Tomorrow]]

And before you even have time to get your head around the idea, here you are. A courtroom. Three sullen boys in too big suits. They look like baby estate agents. The judge calls you to the stand and says... "Please can you explain the significance of this habitat, and the damage caused by the fire." You take a breath. Remember what Laura said. [[Do your best.|Statement]]

"The saltmarsh in this area is a globally rare habitat. It is home to specially adapted species that can only be found in one or two places around the world." You pause, to [[make sure people are actually listening.|ListenUpAll]]

"And can you identify any of these boys as being present at the scene during the incident?" Finally, they look up. And yes, you can... The one in the middle. The smallest. You are told he is 16, but he looks barely 12. All bones and angles. [["I don't know about the others, but I know he was there."|Suspect2]]

He gazes up at you with bright, brown eyes. You tell them you met him. You tell them you tried to get him to speak. You tell them about the chick. (if:$chick2 is "alive")[You find yourself saying that you don't think the fire was intentional. He saved the chick, he was clearly scared. You don't see how punishing these boys will [[do anything.|Lenient]]] (if:$chick2 is "dead")[And as you talk, you feel the anger rise in your chest. The sadness is wiped away by the sight of them, clueless, not sorry. Wiped away by the image of that crumpled body lying on Ginni's desk. It was their fault. And you'd love to know why they did it, but you [[doubt they'll have a good answer..|NoHelp]]]

The boys are found guilty. They must agree to a contract of restorative measures. The usher at court tells you it will likely be litter picking, cleaning graffiti, that sort of thing. You ask the judge if you can offer something different. [["What did you have in mind?"|SMEnd1]]

The boys are forced to pay a fine. Or rather, their parents pay a fine. They must agree to "give back." This involves litter picking, and attending fire safety training. You are asked if you wish to be involved, if you want to teach them about the habitat, if you want their help to restore it. You say you don't have the time. And maybe, perhaps, a small part of you feels sorry for them. Because you can tell, they have no idea how they got here either. Nothing gained, nothing learned. You return to the [[saltmarsh.|SMEnd2]]

Time passes. There is work to be done. And three boys to help you do it. They are ordered to pay a fine, and over the coming weeks will help you restore the saltmarsh they destroyed. You return to the scene [[together.|SMEnd1Detail]]

And for weeks, it is you and Ginni, alone together, planning the system of fire breaks. Drumming up volunteers, drawing schedules, thinking ahead, being as can-do as you can. She hands you a spade. You force it deep into the mud. You have never been so tired. "Gin..." She looks up, [["yes love?"|GinniKind]]

You tell them the plan. Fire breaks - a series of flooded trenches so that if someone has the same idea in future, the fire won't spread. You ask for their input. They are excited to give it to you. You map it out together. One of them has never held a spade. None of them have ever shaped the land like this. And the smallest, the one with the bright brown eyes becomes your shadow. Wordless for days, [[digging in silence...|YourShadow]]

Until one afternoon, he appears at your side, and for the first time, you hear his voice. "How is the chick?" And the best thing, is you get to see his face when you say it is doing well. Growing stronger every day. You get to see the smallest flicker of a smile, a little light in the eyes, when you show him a photo on your phone. And as he pores over it, you [[spot something|Aster2]] in the ashes at your feet.

A sea aster plant. Some sort of miracle. Hardy survivor, keeping-on-keeping-on. "Look at that." You show him. The plant is big enough to take a cutting. You explain how. You watch him do it. You feel something close to hope. And then the [[day ends.|DayEnd]]

And by the time the year is out, the fire breaks are in place. The boys have done their time. They go back to their normal lives, to school, to mates, to football practice. You wonder if they will remember you in 10, 20, 30 years... Laura is preparing to return to work. Robin can take stumbling steps. Carry the weight of his own head. Babble a fountain of almost speak. Summer comes, and you take him out to the garden. [[Show him the bird feeder.|BirdFeeder]] [[Show him the flower beds.|Flowers]]

She bites some dead skin away from her thumb. The digging has given you callouses. When you hold Robin, his skin feels impossibly soft. "They aren't bad kids." Ginni says, to you, to no-one in particular. "Maybe you should have been softer on them. I mean..." Her hand waves to the great scar across the mudflat. "What are we giving them to believe in?" You let your eyes roam upwards. You see a marsh harrier, wheeling alone. The ground below a tattered map. Smudged, torn. It is the end of the [[day.|DayEnd]]

You point at the comings and goings, try to tell him the names for things... //Nuthatch, blackbird, blue tit...// But before long he starts to cry. Too cold. He wants to go [[inside.|BoredBirds]]

Before you can stop him, he's right in the middle of it. On his knees, searching for earth worms. Loam under his tiny moon shaped fingernails. He laughs at the colours of the flowers. Pink is hilarious. Yellow mind blowing. You worry he'll get cold. "Should we go in, Robbie?" But he's in his [[own world.|PlantsAmazed]]

And you sigh, take his hand, hear Laura in your head... //He's a baby, you can't force him to be interested.// You help him toddle towards the door. But then he stops, fingers in his mouth, gazing back at the bird feeder with wide eyes. You kneel, come down to his level, follow his gaze and whisper... //"It's a robin, just like you!" // You close your eyes and listen. It sings and sings and sings. [[Start again?|Start]] [[Credits.|Thanks]]

You try to go there with him. Sometimes it feels like you are travelling in opposite directions. The closer he gets to the mud and the mess, the further away you feel. And then - //surprise!// - here you are, in exactly the same same moment... Rubbing dirt between your fingers. Smiling with grass stained cheeks. [[Start again?|Start]] [[Credits.|Thanks]]

You keep going. "This fire has destroyed a large stretch of habitat, destroying the homes of a wide variety of species, many of whom are already on the red list. Even the change in appearance caused by the fire is detrimental as breeding birds can no longer recognise their nesting site. Specialised plant species that grow naturally here are being used to help restore and establish saltmarsh on other areas of the coast. This attack doesn't only threaten our local environment, but the potential future of many others." The judge waves a hand - [[he wants you to keep it brief.|GetToThePoint]]

"What did you get?" [[Tell the truth.|GradesTruth]] [[Tell a lie.|GradesLie]] [[Avoid the question.|GradesSecret]]

[["Er - sorry mum, you're breaking up."|BreakUp]] [["Yeah, I did really well!"|MumLie]] [["It's not good news."|MumTruth]]

You look back at the bird. If you leave it, it will die. [[Move closer.]] [[There isn't time.]]

"Karim? What the fuck do we do?" "It was Jack's fault." "What?" "If anyone asks, it was Jack's fault. He led us out there. He asked for a lighter." "But-" He's already hung up. You turn your phone off. You pretend tonight happened to someone else. You try and put it to the [[back of your mind.|TimePasses]]

"It was our fault." "Don't say anything. It will blow over." "But-" He hangs up. You try to do as he says. You try to rewrite the night's events. You try and put the fire to the [[back of your mind.|TimePasses]]

She grins. "What's it to be?" [[Birders.]] [[Sea Aster.]]

"No, you're not. You're //harming// the wildlife. Every step you take out here causes disturbance to ground nesting birds. You're endangering a whole variety of already endangered species." Beardy's mouth starts [[goldfishing...|HitYourTheme]]

"We'll turn back. Right away." A bearded man says. "But before we go - do you want a look?" He offers you his binoculars, then points up at the sky. [["Sure. Why not?"|Binoculars]]

"What if this is it? What if it's early?" She's trying to stay calm, but there's an edge to her voice. You don't know what to say. You never know what to say. Then she asks, "can you [[come home?"|ComeHome]]

"Spread the word, form a barrier, make sure everyone stays well on the other side of the road." The beardy man straightens like he's been waiting for this responsibility for his entire life. The parade clears, and just as you're trying to decide what to do next.... Someone grabs you [[and points.|Figures]]

//Gin, there's a marsh harrier chick on your desk.// You try to find the right words. But there's no good way to say... //It's dead. I think it's my fault.// A pause. You see the dots appear as she types, deletes, types, deletes... //Don't worry. I'll sort it. You're in the right place.// [[Time passes.|TimePass2]]

It strikes you as ironic. Things you've been saying to your MP, the local council, regulators and advisers, for //years// - and this is what it takes for them to listen? "Saltmarsh is an effective flood defence, it acts as a carbon sink and even fliters pesticides and other toxins from the water. It does all of this for free. In the face of climate emergency, as human beings, we are immensely lucky to have saltmarsh on our team." [[The boys don't look at you.|StatementCont2]]

"The chick on your desk... It was the boy." She looks confused. "The boy tried to save the marsh harrier chick from the fire. He tried to give it to me. But it didn't make it." [[She nods slowly.|NotABadKid]]

"We expect it will take around three to four years for the area to make any meaningful recovery. But this timeline is likely to increase, given the continued development of the local area, which will provide further set backs." The judge raises an eyebrow. You nod. [[You're done.|SuspectID]]

//none of us did it so we all did it// was commissioned by (link: "The Writing Squad")[(goto-url: 'https://www.writingsquad.com/')] as part of their "Climate and Me" project. It was created using Twine and is an early draft, so may contain typos and mistakes. Though loosely inspired by real events, the story and its characters are fictional. With Thanks To: Steve Dearden, Emma Nuttall, Joshua Styles, Louise Page. Background Image Credit: Jean Carlo Emer, via Unsplash. [[Start again?|Start]]