𝐓𝐖 // 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭

𝐒𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭

♕︎♕︎♕︎

Sandy ground materializes under my body as my mind crawls out of the dreamy state. A shutter reverberates through my bones when the smooth sensation of a hand stroking my face breaks my consciousness from the deep respite of sleep. Moments go by and I find myself falling drowsier with the tender fingertips grazing my skin, like gentle water droplets dancing down soft flower petals. The hand gently takes hold of my chin in a firm clasp, and moves my head side to side as if to kid with me.

"Morning," Jack's greeting stretches out smugly. A smirk is visible in his voice even without a need to take a glance. My eyes peak open, and my vision is speckled from the sudden burst of light flooding in. I blink it away, then a smile tugs my lips, practically forgetting about the interaction from the day before.

Rising up from my laying position, I grunt out a small, "Good morning," in a croaky voice. When I was a kid, Mother told me I had a frog in my throat, and me in the innocent, naïve ages of five till nine, whole-heartedly believed it.

The day is waking up in the sky above me, the sun climbing up the jungle like a ladder. Rays of light effortlessly bore through the cracked boughs of my shelter's ceiling, slicing through like butter with bright and shadowy beams. Outside the hut, the sun lit the forest.

Rubbing my sleep deprived eyes, I formally look at Jack.

"How'd you sleep?" He gently plays with my hand. The events that left us on unclassified terms the day before finally dawn on me like a whack to the head. I shrug earnestly. 

"Could've been better." A tightness pangs my throat. Jack nods slowly when he catches the glint in my tone by a mental hook. I can see it deep in those blue eyes -- he's studying it. Setting my jaw, I instead scan around the small shelter till I find the objective. I point to my hair brush that's been tossed to the other side of the itty hut.

"Can you hand me that?" He hums in response, handing me the item.

"Thank you," I begin to brush the tangles from my hair, occasionally wincing when it would tug at my scalp. Jack keeps his gaze to the ground, making it awkwardly silent.

I can see that the sun has only just risen with the peachy gold rays pouring into the small room, filling the irritated ambience. We both need that. I can hear some voices on the outside belonging to Ralph and Piggy.

Piggy... Piggy. That damn nickname leaves a bad taste on my tongue. That damn nickname.

Jack leads me outside, down the beach a little distance from the high tide. The sand is slightly damp, but my feet still step away dry. Against a palm is his jacket laid out with some fruits. It surprises me to see, though I don't make a comment. Jack invites me to sit. Hesitant at first, I oblige and resume my hair brushing. The breeze is cool, seemingly pushing the aquamarine waves until they dissipate into silvery foam.

"I want to go home," I mumble, gently pulling the bristles of my brush through my hair. Jack adjusts his position to look at my face.

"Why so eager?"

"Why are you not eager?" I counter. Jack's lips form a line of contemplation before shrugging.

"I'm just saying, this is our situation. Why waste time being upset about it? It'll go by faster if you just enjoy your time here."

"I wish I could." 

Jack brushes the words off and picks up a fruit.

"You should eat."

"I'm not really hungry."

I see Jack roll his eyes and throw his hands up in my peripheral vision.

"Why so fed up?" I say in a clipped tone, keeping my eyes ahead to the open sea.

"You always do this," says Jack in exhaustion.

"What would you do without me," I answer lightheartedly. He slowly exhales and lays down on his side. I take the initiative to lean against his torso, continuing to brush the front ends of my hair.

"I've been thinking about what you said that day in the pool- about people being born evil, rather than having both evil and goodness in them."

"Mhm?" I hum in response. Jack runs his fingers along my shoulder in thought, making the air feel oddly tepid.

"What in your opinion makes people become good?" He leans forward to look at my eyes.

"Law and order," I answer evenly. "We are taught civility. You ever seen those apocalypse movies? The minute their government crumbles, they turn on each other."

"So you're backing your claim up by using movies as evidence?" Jack's voice is tainted by an amused smirk.

"No..." I answer slowly. "But those things happen in movies for a reason."

"If what you're saying is right, that wouldn't mean that those people were 'good,' before their world became dystopian, just obedient under order. Are you saying that we are all currently evil and obedient?"

"Of course not." I say simply. "I think good people exist, but a world like that can strip the goodness away to the evil core, if they're weak enough." My finger is pointed up to the sky, tracing the shapes of the clouds. Jack reaches out and interlocks our fingers.

"Does that include you, Veronica Sawyer?" He teases. I smirk and shake my head.

"I'm definitely not the most evil thing here."

"Oh, so it's me?" He laughs, rubbing my knuckles comfortingly. I find myself giggling along.

"I guess we'll find out." 

"What happens when we get to that point?" His voice floats through the air gently. I purse my lips in thought, reviewing the scenario.

"I say we just don't allow ourselves to make it there." I angle my head back against his torso to meet his blue gaze.

"You wouldn't turn against me, would you?" I say, half sarcasm, the other half dead serious.

"Of course not," Jack squeezed my fingers. "I can promise that." After his words dropped like a stone, silence followed that statement, marinating us in an air of questionable wonder. His face broke into a humorous grin.

"I just can't promise the same for Ralph."

I roll my eyes at the joke and pull my hand away to keep brushing the front pieces of my hair. The clouds looked cottony- full. I wouldn't suspect a drop of rain today. It felt too beautiful.

"Are you coming to hunt with me today?" Jack drops his question without warning. "I think you'll have fun again."

My movements come to a pause, the brush still in my hair. The stupefied expression adorning my features was unbeknownst to myself. Swallowing my immediate rejection, I lower my hands and respond. 

"Um, maybe?" I make a weird face at the random burst of speech. His face falters before sputtering for random words.

"I thought you said you would as long as you'd get all of your work done." He was oddly hopeful. Not begging or desperate, but oddly hopeful.

In all honesty, I'd prefer to spend my free time walking along the beach with Ralph. It's more appealing than going on a sweaty, bloody pig hunt with hormonal teens. To be even more truthful, I quite frankly fear that if I keep up with these pig hunts, I might just get used to it.

"Will Roger be there?" I disregard his last exchange of words. The boy's eyes harden, but I can't tell how he took my statement with the given context.

"Of course." He states matter of factly. I recall the day before. That feeling lingers on my skin again like a nasty residue. My throat swallows a lump of dread that had clogged my windpipe.

"I mean- I might." I sigh, holding back a pained cringe. I stand up and grab my blazer to avoid any more talk. Powdery sand wedged into every crease of my skin, itchy like the tags on the back of your shirt collar.

"I have to go watch the fire, okay? I'm pretty sure I overslept. I'll see you later, Merridew."

I don't expect him to stand up with me, but he does. Without saying anything, I begin to leave for my fire watch, but a hand wrapped around my wrist. A harsh gasp sucks into my lungs and I jerk around.

"Your hair's still tangled." 

I give him a snide face.

"You really know how to make a girl feel pretty." Birds chirp noisily in the tree tops way above us. I look up and partly smile before looking back at Jack. He leans down, pressing his lips to mine. A familiar electric feeling courses through my veins momentarily.

Nope, nope, nope. I break away from his touch. There is no time for me to do this with him today. The blonde looks at me before I raise my eyebrows quickly and turn on my heel.

Boys slowly filter out of their huts with heavy eyelids. I'd have to go ahead and head up the mountain to go on fire watch first thing.

"Ralph!" I shout to catch his attention. His head sharply turns to me.

"Hey, yeah?" 

I walk over to him, noticing Piggy who was standing by Ralph impatiently -- assuming he's still trying to get through to Ralph over a sundial.

"Just wanted to say good morning. Are Samneric on the watch already?" I flick a leaf off of Ralph's shoulder. He stares at the leaf floating to the ground for moment.

"I think so." Piggy chimes. At this point, I feel Jack's presence a few yards away.

"Thank you! I might as well get to that then."

"Wait! Won't you need someone to guide you up the mountain?" Ralph calls after me. I smile at him.

"Nope!" They open their mouths to say more but I give them a small wave before venturing off to my shift.

Jack hadn't made any move to come follow me. Unusual, but not concerning.

On the way to the signal fire, I replay the short exchange I had with him in the shelter. I can't understand it.

My thoughts transition to yesterdays conversation -- seeing the way Jack acted, I worry that this whole system we have going will fall apart. Who knows how fast that could happen.

Would it even matter if a ship or a plane never were to show up? No- don't think like that. We will get rescued. My hands adjust the collar of my blazer as I keep a stride for the mountain.

Roger. Yet again, he finds away to creep into my mind. And his hands... A shiver scrapes at my skin. I know there aren't any adults here, but I still didn't expect it. Actually, the more I think about it, the less far fetched it seemed.

I'm not particularly fond of the idea to go on another hunt with Roger. Trudging my way up the mountain, I finally arrive to the fire.

Eric is sitting by himself. Sam should be here, but he's not. He's nowhere nearby. Eric's knees are folded to his chest and he looks sad. I'm sure he's aware of my presence, only he isn't given any sign of it.

"Hey, Eric!" I speak up to catch his attention.

"Hi," he replies flatly. Weird. Poking out his lower lip, he miserably rips some blades of grass from the ground.

"Can I sit?" Maybe an upbeat attitude could rub off onto him.

"Why wouldn't you sit?" The twin mumbles. Ignoring what he said, I take a deep breath, deciding it would be best to not mention Sam. I plop down onto a log near him.

"You're late." There's a certain bitterness in his voice.

"Err, yeah. Sorry. I got. . . caught up." My jaw clenches after the awkwardness sets in.

"How are you?" My gaze keeps itself on the fire. He flashes me a weird look before shrugging it off.

"Dunno." Eric keeps messing with the grass. Whatever, just give up the fronting already, Veronica. He isn't having it with any of my small talk nor formalities. Not only ten seconds later, he surprisingly starts speaking.

"Sam won't talk to me." A small twig flings into the fire as he continues dragging his pout on.

"Said he doesn't wanna be friends anymore."

"Well, I'll talk to you!" I smiled.

"Really?" Eric seems kinda surprised. I stutter a bit at his own shock

"Oh, well of course, Eric." The twin forces smile, trying to regain his usual trait.

"Whaddya wanna talk about?"  

I suppose I was only hoping he'd inform me of the bad condition of his and Sam's friendship. That sounds bad when you put it into words.

"Sam's just a dumbass, and a dork too, but no surprise there." He was blunt, visibly beginning to get irratated at the mention of his brother.

"How so?" I push the topic, diverting my stare to the horizon. I feel him squint at me, seemingly finding it a struggle to even remember what him and his twin argued over.

"He'd rather act stupid with the hunters than focus on gettin' outta here." A southern accent came through with that sentence. He doesn't show signs of continuing.

Being the famously nosey person I am, I obviously want to know everything about the quarrel. Thinking hard, I stare at the rocky, blackened ground for a moment, hoping there was some answer hidden within the charred surface.

Darkened grass is the only evidence left from the day we let the fire spread wild, instantly leaving humanity's print of destruction to prove it.

"How'd the argument start?" I ask. Eric's eyes meet mine; his eyelids look heavy with the annoyed glare. I assume he'd ignore me, but the idea quickly vanishes as he scoots forward. I can't even prepare for the hefty onslaught of words.

"He started it first. He made fun of me for not staying with the hunters like he was, but he told me to stop following him around everywhere, so I dunno what he even wants! He's such a fucking hypocrite, Veronica! And- He acts like I'm some kid attached to him 24/7, and like I'm just some big annoyance, but he literally does the same thing! Then, he told the other hunters things about me that aren't even true. They all think I'm pathetic. I hate him."

"No, you don't," I say reasonably.

"I called him a dumb dork and he got really mad about it. So now we're not friends anymore."

I remember them calling each other 'dorks' a few times before, but only during their innocent disputes.

"Soooo, that's why you two are ghosting each other?" I laugh, completely oblivious. Eric furrows his eyebrows at my unconcern.

"He doesn't like that people mix us up so much. He keeps trying to make his hair look different and he keeps his face painted like the hunters so that we'll look different. He doesn't want to be mistaken for me." Eric squeezes clumps of ripped-up grass in his hands, subtly making scrutinizing faces as he speaks.

"But I dunno why. That's always how it's been with us. We could always trick people- our teachers and classmates by swapping places and our name tags. No one could ever tell us apart. Even our parents would mix us up. That's why we get called 'Samneric'. But now he doesn't wanna be mistaken for me."

He frowns sadly.

"We're supposed to be the same." Referring to his other half sends him staring into the fire with a lost expression. 

"Now, I'm just his parasitic twin." He mumbles the last two words with a bitter venom. I share a gentle frown to show my sympathy. I hadn't realized what a big deal this meant to him.

"He's acting like Jack." A spiteful face forms with the final word. Noticing my bewildered expression, he quickly shuts his mouth, sucking in a harsh breath and darts focus back to the fire.

"How so?" 

He looks more than mildly surprised that I'm showing interest.

"Uh," he stammers out. "Well, all he does is hang out with Roger and Tony," the twin explains. What the hell does Roger get out of hanging with one of the twins?

"And Roger told Sam that I was a little shit for what I said, and that he should stop hanging around me."

I blink in place when I process those words mentioning Roger.

"Seriously?"

Eric nods wordlessly. I'll always have a handful of words for Roger, but for the time being, I kept them to myself as to not toss gasoline on the fire.

"Sam will come around. Give him some time and he'll come crawling back." I nudge the twin with a reassuring smile. His shoulders bob into a fast shrug.

"Maybe." The twin doesn't seem very hopeful with that last response. I figure should just stay out of it now.

♕︎♕︎♕︎

Heading back down to the beach, I figure I can go talk to Simon or at least someone else. Piggy, Jack and Ralph are all nearby. The shorter boy seems to be showing Ralph how to construct that sundial which he so badly wanted. Jack watches the pitiful scene in amusement. I approach the three, and sit on my knees next to Piggy. A stick protrudes from the ground, small rocks making a circle to represent numbers.

"How's the sundial going?" Nodding the d.i.y clock. Ralph lets out an exasperated sigh, giving me a helpless smile. Seeing this, Jack quickly walks to my side.

"No, It needs to cast a shadow." Piggy firmly instructs. I hear Jack snicker.

"Do you know where Sam was during his shift?" Ralph's attention was grabbed away from the invention.

"Was he not with Eric today?"

"No, not at all."

He frowns at the information. "He was supposed to be there..."

"Really? I thought he was supposed to be on Tatooine." I kid sarcastically. Ralph chuckles then tries to reason his choice of wording, but of course, Jack crashes into the conversation.

"He was hunting with my group."

"Jack!" I exclaim shrilly, throwing my hands up. Ralph sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"I couldn't stop the kid from making decisions." Jack justifies. I stare at him dumbly.

"Yes. Yes, in fact you could've." Ralph flatly affirms.

"You're supposed to help keep charge of them. You know that you could have kept him from doing that. Incase you haven't noticed, we are on a strict schedule here."

The blonde shakes his head, getting visibly more heated.

"Hunters are strong. He was smart not to stay caught up in those dumb ass fire watches. It won't get him anywhere."

Piggy glances at me with a worried expression. I stared back momentarily, then turn my focus to Ralph for a response.

"Are you kidding? The fire is what will get us outta here. You need to set a better example-"

"-Oh shut it, Colonel."

I squeeze my eyes shut, muttering jokes to Piggy.

"And now back to the regular scheduled program. Jack and Ralph fighting over dumb shit -- season 3, episode 50." Piggy starts laughing but the blonde shoots us a daring look -- the boy silences.

"Just trying to defuse the tension..." I chirp, raising my hands in surrender. Wind slightly blows up the hem of my skirt, making me immediately tug it back down to normal.

"You keep fucking everything up, Jack!"

I was caught off guard to hear Ralph curse, as I've only heard him do so maybe once before. He inhaled through his nose after dropping the risky statement, and I hear a deep growl from the blonde.

"You wouldn't be calling me a such fuck up when I leave thi-"

"-Jack, we're low on fruits. Come help me gather some." I speak over the feud.

Still fuming, he diverts his eyes from mine to Ralph in a glower. They stare at each other, ready to lunge at each other's throats while I restrain one. Like dogs on a leash. How sad.

"Come on now." Grabbing Jack's elbow, I yank as hard as I can. It's like trying to push a brick wall that is fully welded to a concrete floor. After many seconds, he reluctantly follows my lead.

"Calm down, will ya?" I mutter to him. His grip on my hand is extremely tight, but seems to loosen.

"I feel like you're getting snappier by the day. What's going on?"

"Anyone would get snappier if they had to deal with you." His response falls flat. I cannot tell if he's joking or not. Choosing to ignore the snarky response, I try again.

"What's going on with you?"

"Why does it matter?" Jack's grip on my hand begins to tighten once more. I stop in my tracks and squint my eyes at him. 

"Because believe it or not, I actually care about you sometimes." I hiss in the matching insolent tone. "So what's your issue?" 

"I'm pissed." 

"Why?" 

"Because I haven't been able to do this in a while." 

I don't get to register his words before my back is suddenly pushed up against a tree, and his lips latch onto mine. He kisses me deep, rougher than typical, like a profound hunger dwells within him, unable to be tamed. I reciprocate, my mind still muddled with confusion. With his hips pressing against me, I feel his hands trailing up and under my skirt. 

My face angles away as his lips travel down my neck while I keep my hands plastered to the sides of his shoulders. I feel myself wanting to cave and give in, but I catch myself. I turn to look at him straight-on, ready to speak, but his mouth crashes against mine, and the syncopated rhythm resumes for a few moments. 

"Jack-" I breathe between the kissing. "I was trying to talk to you about- important matters."

"I don't care," he mumbles back as his lips glue to mine, shutting me up. I can hardly separate long enough to take any breaths as he gets slightly more aggressive. 

My hands find the sides of his jaw, and I'm able to pry his face away from mine, finally looking him in the eye. 

"Listen, Jack," I pant to catch my breath. "I know you're getting more irritable, but-" 

He kisses my lips and pulls back. 

"-But Ralph really cares about us. He cares about you," I continue. 

"Uh-huh," Jack kisses my cheek, then the corner of my mouth.

"He really- He really has our best interest in mind." 

He plants kisses all over the other side of my face, progressing closer to my mouth. 

"I know that it's-" Our lips connect again. "- I know that it's irritating you, but I promise Ralph has nothing against you, Jack." 

"Mhm," he kisses my chin and nose. 

"He just wants to make sure that we all work together, so we can all be rescued." 

"Yeah." Jack latches back onto my lips again. Keeping my eyes open, I quickly pull back with the minor mobility I have pressed against the tree. 

"Jack, are you even listening to me?" 

"Don't speak anymore, please." 

So it's clear he only wanted this. I can't even be sure how many of my words actually were actually absorbed. The most likely result is that it mainly all went in one ear and out the other. Being foolish, I decide to cave in for the moment, letting go. I can only hope to get my words in his head sooner or later. 

Finishing, Jack presses his forehead against mine. Our eyes stay closed for a moment of silence. When he pulls back, I see in his eyes that the water has calmed, and the storm has subsided. 

"I wanna give something to you." He finally speaks up. Raising my brow, I return with a question.

"What is it?" 

He starts unclipping a small metal name tag from his military jacket. I'm confused up to this point. Saying nothing, he pins the item to the right of my chest. 'Merridew'  is engraved in the cold metal. Running my fingers over the carving, I glance back to the tall boy with a puzzled expression.

"Why are you-"

"-I thought I'd give it to you, just in case."

"Just in case what?" I put emphasis on the last word.

"I mean, just in case we ever get rescued and we can't see each other anymore, you'll have something of mine to you know, remind yourself of me."

I can only scoff and answer sardonically. 

"Oh, how thoughtful, Jack Merridew. How can I ever accept such a fine gift?" He looks annoyingly proud of himself despite the clear jab of sarcasm.

"Veronica, I've wanted to talk to you about something for a while now." Oh how the tables have turned.

"Tell me," I say. His head snaps in a few directions as if to check that no one else was around. Right away, he takes my hands in his and pulls me closer.

"Listen, I don't think Ralph is cut out to be a cheif or leader of anything. If I were make a new tribe, would you leave and join me?"

I stand frozen, unable to comprehend the question he had asked.

"Slow down- what do you mean by you're leaving us?"

He breathes an exasperated sigh. "I never said I was going to. I'm just asking a hypothetical question." He smacks a hand to his forehead.

"If I were to make a new tribe-"

Pulling away from his frame, I put my hands up, closing my eyes to process his bizarre proposition.

"Jack, I like you. But to answer your question, I wouldn't leave Ralph's tribe to join yours."

"Why the hell not?"

I flinch slightly. Noticing this, he recedes back and softens his forehead, still remaining in a scowl.

"Ralph will get us rescued and you hunting pigs all day is just ew." My nose scrunches at the thought. Jack doesn't immediately reply.

"You like hunting."

"I don't."

His eyes appear cold. "Why are you so surprised that I'd make another tribe? Shouldn't you have seen this coming?"

"I'm not surprised that you're making another tribe, Jack." He eggs me on to finish what I was trying to say.

"I'm surprised that you think I'd actually join you." 

Jack turns away, giving into defeat.

"One day... One day you will see, Veronica."

"See what?" I cross my arms. "I'm not gonna let you screw us all over, Jack!" My voice came out higher than intended. A long silence follows and he stared at me blankly, saying nothing. It grew uncomfortable pretty fast.

Finally, in a low voice, he utters, "Better to screw then get screwed."

I press my lips together and turn my back to him before I slip up and say something stupid. He snickers lowly, watching me make fists in front of my face to compose myself.

"You know, this old friend a' mine reminds me a whole lot of you," I pick at a berry bush, staining my finger tips purple with the juices. Jack showed little to no interest at my remark.

"He thought like you in some ways." Jack lifts up his head. 

"And?"

"And... nothing." The words that I wanted to say taunted my taste buds. Without anything left to say, I begin to walk off. I hate this. I never asked for this, none of us did. I want to go home. The cursing under my breath briefly gifts my heart with minimal content... the contented satisfaction of exploding into a cloud of anger.

However, no whispered curses could rid the scream bottled up in my chest. I swallow a breath of air, preparing to let out a shout of frustration, only I cannot find the will to do so.

Fuck. Shit. Damnit. Christ.

Without halting my stride, I slow down, straining my ears in hope that Jack would yell out an apology or something to stop me. He doesn't and it only fuels my aggravation -- the need to have an upper hand. Great... just great.

The earth below me begins to dip, caving down with the weight of my steps. The grassy surface is almost completely dissolved into golden sand as I approach the beach. Sounds of waves crashing and children laughing tickle my ears. Here on the island, it's the new normal music.

"Welcome to paradise, Veronica." I utter to myself, absently toying with one of my rings.

Taking a moment to breathe, I prop myself up on my elbow, leaning against a palm tree. Rough bark presses into my tanned skin while I gaze at the distant ocean. Amber light catches my eyes, flooding my vision in a white flash that's hot enough to make me flinch.

Off to my right, Peter and Mikey both sat in the shaded area, building yet again, another sand castle. The two were babbling off on some TV show about a talking puppet. Alf, I think? The sun persists on begging to take another bite from my vision.

That show played on Monday mornings and evenings... Dad always had it on when he read the newspaper and would drink black coffee from a mug. I bought that one mug for him three years earlier.

I miss my dad and my mom. I miss mom's fake pâté and the croquet set that was constantly set up on the lawn. Dad would sit on the sofa with a cigar and a bowl of peanuts. Blue flashes of light illuminated his face as images flickered across the silver screen.

I remember the last time I saw them. It was at the airport. I walked away from them, annoyed. Of course I was annoyed. Jack was probably right about me being constantly uptight.

A loud squeal makes me snap out of thought. The two little ones.

"What's the matter?" I rush over to them, my heart slightly pounding. Peter fishes a large stone from the pile of sand that was once a little castle.

Where the hell-

Another stone whizzes past my head, making my blood run cold.

"It's raining rocks!!" Mikey shouts.

"No it's not." I roll my eyes. "Come on, stand up now." I usher them away, keeping a hand on their heads to shield them from the flying stones. Once they were both gone from the area, I whip around, my hands glued to my hips.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Roger flashes his eyes from the high tree branch he's perched on. A large, grey rock was grasped in his fist.

"Come down. Now." I warn through clenched teeth. The boy laughs at my means to seem intimidating.

"I mean it, Roger." My hands drop from my hips. After shrugging, he tosses the last rock off into some bushes before jumping to the sand.

"Looks like Merridew's branded ya' already." He motions at the shiny name tag, laughing to himself. I glare, glancing to the item he referred to.

"Why did you do that?" I'm not totally sure what kind of response I was expecting from him.

"Why not?"

My head cocks to the side at this response.

"You're going to hurt someone."

"Isn't that the point?"

"Roger!" Biting his lip, the boy studies my face. He's getting some sort of satisfaction out of this. I hate how aware of myself I suddenly am.

"I missed them on purpose."

"And what if you end up not missing sometime?"

"That's half the fun if it, not knowing." My chin tilts down, my eyes still stuck to his face. He's feeding off my reaction, and I keep supplying it.

"I know what you did," I state plainly. "The glass. Cute move, though it's not very subtle."

"I don't know what you're talking about," deludes the teen so eloquently. My eyes don't settle on his. Maybe that's why I don't see it coming when he grabs and yanks my chin, forcing me to look at his face. A jolt of pain stabs through my neck, making me gasp.

"You should look at me when I'm talking to you." He subdues me with a sickly sweet chirp of ultimatum. "It's only polite to make eye contact with your equals."

Saying nothing, I wrap my hand on his wrist -- the same one that holds my chin. The shock and disbelief is steadily congealing together into a gelatinous blob in my chest.

"What the fuck?" I shot, squirming in the tight hold.

His free hand tugs my other wrist to his frame. He says nothing.

"What the hell are you doing? Stop." 

My heart begins pounding in my ears with the steadily rising dread. 

"Roger, just- please let me go." As if to make a point, he slams my back hard against a tree, pinning my right thigh with his knee. A sickening swell of cold water flooded my numbed lungs. I groaned at the realization of how helpless and trapped I was. Roger closed the space between our chests, making me squirm in discomfort.

"No." He raises a nonchalant brow.

"Roger, joke's over. Let me go." I make another attempt to jerk away, which makes him increase the pressure that's already been pushing on my chest.

"Don't make me make this harder than it should be, Sawyer." His forehead is almost touching mine, and his eyes are mere inches away from my own. Two dark bullets drilling into my cranium.

"I know you saw this coming." His grainy words slew with such ease like falling sand.

My face contorts into a confused expression. 

"What-"

"- You look like a fucking hooker in that outfit." Strands of hair fell over his dark narrowed eyes. "I don't know why Jack lets you get away with that."

I squeeze my eyes shut and let my jaw slacken, trying to find the words I want to say, though to say I'm impeccably offended and thrown off would be an understatement.

"I wear this everyday?" My response comes off as more of a question with my heightened perplexity. Roger's fixed study persists down on me in a prolonged reign, coercing me to squirm. I tighten my lips as the self-cautious shivers crawl under my skin like roaches before dying under his poisonous leer.

"What are you- I'm confused-" my words never go completed when my lips get forced together as a warm compress restricts them; Roger's lips.

I grunt out a muffled noise, trying to move my head side to side. The boy recedes back slightly, our lips only slightly brushing together as he hisses taunting words.

"Calm down, bitch. I can feel your heart racing." It occurs to me how pressed together we were, no gap of space was left. The realization must have been extremely visible on my face because he smiles like a wolf.

Satan stirs the pot; The acid vat in my stomach churns and I want to vomit. It's like what I felt yesterday, intensified beyond my comprehension. 

"You like this, don't you? Having control over everything." I pant breathlessly. His head tilts to both sides in thought.

"I could say the same about you, Sawyer." 

"Fuck you," I manage to spat. Roger curls that same, sardonic smile.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

I don't even have a clue how my brain can be capable of formulating anger in this situation over plain panic. As if he read my thoughts, Roger's lips push onto mine, hard, like forcing a puzzle piece into the wrong spot. He only breaks off again to speak.

"Not so high and mighty now, are you?" His lips venture into the crook of my neck. I try to move, but he has my legs pinned painfully against the tree, too.

"How do you think Jack would react if he saw us like this?" His whispers tingle against my skin, sending sparks of electricity up and down my spine. Blindly, I start sputtering some vague explanation.

"He'd- he'd-" My mouth clamps shut when I realize I can't respond to the question with a confident answer.

"Thought so." Roger whispers, tapping his finger against the chain-ring. My teeth clench and I blurt out in ignorant anger. 

"Get the fuck off me you, goddamn bitch."

Roger stares at me as if to say your choice. At that, he pulls back and a knee slams into my stomach, making me wheeze as all the air gets forced out. The boy watches with a satisfactory expression as I choke to catch my breath. Before I can regain composure, Roger forces me back upright by my neck, my hair falling over my face.

"You're bold, Sawyer." He brushes the hair from my face. "Super bold. Probably your only redeeming quality. What does Jack see in you anyway?" 

Before I can retort, he speaks again.

"Oh yeah, I know. You're just another one of his fifteen different side fucks. You're nothing, bitch."

Something shrivels up inside of me, like burning parchment.

"You're a self-righteous prude. A tease who walks around with her nose stuck up in the air like you're too good for everyone. Behind that, you're a vulnerable little girl who returns to the same man every night, and you can't admit that you confide in that like a safety boat. You're nothing to Jack, and he's nothing to you. You guys are partners-with-benefits. You're expendable."

I swallow the clotted angst in the back of my scratchy throat and clamp my teeth onto my dry tongue. This is something that has dashed across my ponderings one-too-many times. Roger may want to dance on top of my shallow grave as I rot for all I know, but is this the truth? Jack invaded my senses during our time on this forsaken place, dominating all the what if's and questions.

I stare at his pointed face. He's so... so right. So fucking right.

Everything with Jack and I started as a result of our teenage hormones. It was a friends-with-benefits deal. We were bored. He was testing me out, and I was testing him out, because we were bored. I want to argue, but with the knot forming in the back of my throat, I become all the more restrained. Hot tears start to brim my eyes.

A chuckle huffs out of him, his thoughts far from interested as Roger's fingers trail up the side of my waist. My breath quickens again.

"You're a sad idiot if you truly think Jack likes you beyond just having you as a conventional hookup."

I exhale roughly, slightly nodding my head, not necessarily in full agreement, but because I don't know if it's fully a lie. His hands let my arms go and find my waist, squeezing hard with out warning.

"Oh, God-" I breathe at the sudden scare. Tilting my chin up roughly, he speaks in an effortlessly swift cadence.

"God can't help you here. You can't beg him for mercy. You're in the hands of Beelzebub now." After a second goes by, his cold lips press onto mine. I'm not able to process any of it. Teeth painfully sink into my lower lip.

As if on cue, the sound of the conch blares through the air. Saved by the bell. The sound pulls Roger's attention, and with my body now free, I shove him off my frame to make a break for it.

A force yanks me backwards and off my feet, spinning me around. Of course, it's him, practically snarling as he grasps my wrist so tightly to the point it'll surely bruise.

Through a clenched jaw he spoke darkly. "Bitch, I swear to God if you say a word about any of this to Jack, I'll be breaking more than your ego next time."

The stone glare etched on my face masks my new genuine fear of him.

"Drop that mental crown on your head. Just because you think you're some hot shit, it doesn't make you invincible."

"Jack will come running out of that tree line any moment," I stammer, admittedly, quite pitifully. "He wouldn't react well, seeing you alone with me."

That gets him to pause, but only for a moment. He hits me with that ill-natured grin. It drips with venom straight from his ever-rotting mind before spewing out a low-toned chuckle in my face. I'm sprayed with the infectious disease of submission.

Once he settles, he tilts his head to the side slowly. In an oh-so-sweet tone, he asks, "Is that so?"

A ball of vulnerability plods to the bottom of my chest, and I begin wringing the hem of my skirt in my fingers.

"I wouldn't even give a shit if he found out that we ever fucked. You are of no value to him for him to ever care." Roger's eyes are lively as he speaks. 

"Trust me," he continues. "I've known him for the past seven years. Jack's not opposed to sharing."

To my fortune, he begins to walk past me, muttering threats under his breath.

When he finally passes me, my body collapses against a tree as I let out a sob, shoulders bobbing up and down to no end. When the adrenaline subsides and I'm utterly distraught, a sensation of guilt pulls at my ribs, tightening a hand around my heart. I hate him. I hate this island. I hate myself.

Fuck. Shit. Damnit. Christ.

♕︎♕︎♕︎

It's supposed to be simple. Another meeting with more commands. To get us rescued, certainly. Because getting rescued should be easy if we have fire, right?

Half of the hunters go with Jack on the fire watch, the other half was, well, probably hunting. Actually, I can't imagine any of them hunting without Jack leading them. Those boys practically kiss the ground the walks on, acting like everything he says is the holy grail.

Ralph is walking with intent as Piggy blabbers off behind him, struggling to keep up with the Chief's swift pace.

"Ralph! Let me help you." I take a portion of the load of water filled shells from his arms.

"Oh- thanks." 

"Hey, I really need to speak with you about the hunters. One of them actually."

"Let me take a wild guess, is it about Jack?"

"Uhm, no." My eyebrows furrow.

"Okay, then what is it-" a loud sound drowns him out. The sound of a great, spinning fan.

"What's that sound... Hey, look!" Ralph points to the horizon.

There it is, a helicopter flying by.

"Holy shit!" I laugh joyfully. A light feeling lifts me off of my feet, a feeling that could let me fly.

"We're gonna get rescued!" Piggy jumps up and down. That's right. We're gonna get rescued because of the... fire.

I check the highest hill for the grey trail of smoke reaching up for the clouds, only there is none.

"Ralph, the fire's out!" The shriek rips up my throat and the temporary joy fades from our demeanors.

"Shoot." Ralph hisses to himself. Piggy, the little ones, and I drop the water filled shells and wave in the air to grab the helicopter's attention.

"Over here!" Screaming rips my throat raw. The muscles in my arms slowly burn to an ache by my profuse flailing.

Ralph is gone, towards the fire watch, he runs. I chase after him, nearing the area of the rocky drop off. Soles of my feet pound against the stone painfully as the pressure blows up through my heels, shock after shock.

There's only one motive here.

Hot air sucks in and out of my lungs, drying my mouth. Neither of us can formulate the situation. Loose rocks and dirt erodes away under my feet as I fight and push up the lofty hill with an adrenaline I never knew I withheld.

Just like when I was on the hunt, I dodge the roots that stick up out of the ground that try to grab at me, that try to stop me from the idea of rescue.

Kill the pig, cut its throat, spill its blood.

We make it up to the flat part of the almost mountainous incline with the charred old tree and grass.

"Over here!" I cup my hands to my mouth as Ralph jumps up and down, rapidly waving his arms in a desperate attempt to be seen.

"Help us!" Everything hurts. That great run managed to activate every muscle fiber I had. At this point, the slightest word to leave my mouth sends a terrible stabbing pain to strike through my chest. That... doesn't feel right.

The helicopter shrinks further and further into the horizon till it's vanished from sight. It's no use.

"Ralph, they're gone. There wasn't anything we could do. They're gone." I place my hands on his shoulder to tame him. Soon enough, he collapses to his knees in defeat.

I swore I could see a glimmer of a tear reflecting in his eye. It sends me over the edge and I find my own tears pouring down my face.

As if on cue, we look at the smoldering pile of sticks.

"They let the fire go out," Ralph snarls in a whole new level of anger. The raging turmoil rises in his chest. I can feel it too, we're sharing the same emotion. My hands tremor as he rises from the ground

"Ralph." Nothing could contain the months worth of pent up frustration he contained.

"They let the goddamn fire out!" The volume in his voice increases as he pulls a foot back and swings forward, striking the sad pile and sending burned sticks to fly up wildly in the air. Then, the overwhelmed state of mind rolls over.

"No, no, no, no, no..." My fingers clawed at my hair in realization. We could have been rescued. Jack let the fire out.

"No, no, no... Damn you, Jack." The utter leaves my mouth before I could process it's meaning. Even after processing it, I can't find a reason to retract my statement.

I was too shocked from my daze as Ralph falls into a fit of rage, stomping the old ash and debris repeatedly, screaming threats and curses to no one in particular.

I watch him and wait for it to blow over.

"I'm sorry, Veronica." His voice breaks. Who would have thought our Chief could be left in such a state?

"It wasn't your fault."

"I'm still sorry." He gives me a sad expression.

I sniffle and wipe my runny nose. The sorrow leaves Ralph's voice and the typical authority returns.

"I'm calling a meeting." Without saying another word, he heads down the small mountain. A long held sigh exists my worn lungs and I gaze down to where a one blazing fire used to be... So full of life and possibility. Now, it's a dark nothing full of deception. Ash easily slips through the gaps of fingers, like the possibility of leaving this place.

At that, I reluctantly trudge down to the beach. Too many things happened today and my mind still can't formulate a sense of it.

Unfathomable. It's all so incomprehensible. Rescue, home, life... It was at our finger tips. Now, it's been not only stolen from me, but all of the other children. My feet dragged through the sand in despair with the sound of the conch blaring through the humid air.

♕︎♕︎♕︎

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞--

𝐇𝐞𝐲 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞! 𝐘𝐞𝐬, 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐧 𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞. 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟏. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐛𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐬. 𝐋𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝. 𝐖𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭. 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡.

𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐲 "𝐲𝐞𝐬" 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭. 𝐍𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭. 𝐈𝐟 𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐚𝐲𝐬 "𝐧𝐨" 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭, 𝐧𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞. 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜, 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝 "𝐲𝐞𝐬" 𝐈𝐒 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭.

𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞. 𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨.

𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐳𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐚𝐲.