Whether she has not thought of it in a long time or it all she ever thinks about, this moment right now sees it taking control of her senses and refusing to let go. The lights in these nightmares extend out in a hazy blur, everything so much bigger and mesmerizingly essential due to the weight of the pain wrought within. The dread of letting go helps this process along, poisoning everything we touched with a visceral recoil to remove temptation.
It the metaphorical (or literal) harbinger of suffering that looms in the background as real tragedy strikes to put a palpable fear in them all. Discovering a girl died that evening around the same area she and her friends went swimming therefore eats away at her resolve, bleeding into a surprise run-in with a boy from her past (Danny Ramirez Brady), his bloodstained car, and the next night victim (Taylor Hanks' Daphne) in tow. Life and dreams begin to combine into one as chunks of days are lost without recollection, the quietly severe dialogue shared in the ones we witness flirting with the edge of parody.
Things become so heavy that you pray for some kind of release, even if it means killing Charlotte to find solace. When people in the audience were not laughing at inappropriate times due to somber line-readings or overwrought melodrama, they were leaving the theater.
Why our minds refuse to let the ache of the past evaporate so the promise of the future can take hold is anyone guess, but the prison formed will try everything it can to prevent us from moving forward.