Author's Note: I don't own anything. This initially was just a collection of one-shots that I wanted to compile, with no meaningful story behind it, but it quickly evolved into a loosely-connected prequel to the first movie... of sorts. There isn't quite a linear progression of events unless otherwise stated, and yeah, hope you enjoy. Don't forget to drop me a line, if you'd be so kind!

"Ginger Snaps: Memories"

1. The Game

It's five years ago and Brigitte looks at her sister, who's just standing there with a large smile on her face, her round cheeks flushed with glee. She blinks a few times. She can't understand.

"It's called the choking game." Ginger says, giggling, "You hold your breath."

"How long?"

"Until you pass out."

"That's too long."

"Not until you die, stupid. Until you pass out. Those are different things."

"I don't know, Ginge..."

"Come on, it'll be fun!"

Brigitte doesn't always like the games her sister keeps inventing. Ginger always has a mind for a new game. The choking game is a tamer version of the hanging game. They played that one once, they tied ropes around their necks, tied the ropes to the fence and jumped off chairs. Pam didn't like that one bit, so there they are, with Ginger proposing an alternative.

Brigitte doesn't understand Ginger's fascination with not breathing.

"How will we do it?" she asks meekly, hoping that the explaining will stop Ginger. Sometimes, it does. When she can't figure out how to play a game she proposed, Ginger huffs and puffs and doesn't play the game after all.

"You'll just take one deep breath and keep it in, like this," she puts one hand over her mouth and the other one holds her nose. "It's easy." She says.

"Why don't we play something else, Ginge? I don't like this game."

"Come on, it'll be fun."


Brigitte knows that she has to play.

"One... two... three, go!"

They both inhale deeply, and Brigitte tries to get as much into her lungs as possible. This'll be the last breath she will take for a while, so she has to make it count. Looking at Ginger, she cups one hand over her mouth and with her other hand, holds her nose.

Ginger's pale skin turns red in about a minute. Brigitte doesn't know if she's like the same. All she can hear is the pounding of her heart in her temples, her pulse racing out of control. She starts to panic as her body starts to scream for breath, for breathing, for fresh intake of air.

Ginger stumbles, still holding her mouth and nose. Brigitte can barely keep standing. Suddenly, her knees buckle and she falls. It startles her and she lets go, which makes her suddenly inhale. Another breath, and then another, and before she knows it, Brigitte is having a coughing fit. Her head is swimming.

She sits up. Looks for Ginger. Her sister is a little ways away, slumped against a wall. She's struggling.

She's dying!

Brigitte rushes to Ginger's side and grabs her by the arms. She pulls, pulls with all her strength, trying to get Ginger to release her hold on her own breath.

"Ginger, come on, let go, breathe, Ginger, just breathe come on please Ginger breathe just GINGER!"

There's a smile in Ginger's eyes, like she's having fun watching little Brigitte despair. Ginger watches her little sister start to panic, grow more and more incoherent in her calling until finally, she screams.

"Mom! MOM!"

Brigitte gets up and runs out of the room. Ginger watches her leave as her consciousness slowly deserts her. The only thought she has in her head is: I win.