He was left curled into a ball and sobbing. Though he was told he was a strong boy, nothing that he was doing now actually proved that sentiment was true. Here he was crying over something that happened years ago, even though he probably couldn't have stopped it if he tried.

He blamed it on himself so frequently that it shattered him, daily life feeling like a chore. Here was he, sobbing like some strange banshee over something he couldn't have predicted in the slightest. At what point should he consult his dearest friends about the predicament that he was in? Carefully considering his options, Bruce got up off the desert floor and onto his feet.

Someone was shouting his name. It was a familiar voice, one of one of his friends if he were to be truthful. He didn't feel as if he could trust himself with his own issues anymore.

"Bruce, mate! G'day!" Sheila shouted in her loud voice. "How ya going?"

Her usual expression changed when she noticed the usually spunky boy's downcast expression and eyes that lacked any sense of hope in the world.

"You know what? Come with me to my little home. We'll have a talk."

Bruce shook his head, knowing how persistent his friend was.

"That wasn't a question," Sheila stated. "Can't have you looking like something the cat dragged in. Come on, up. We'll talk, alright? It looks like you're dealing with something, and as the person I am, I want to help you with it."

He stayed silent and grabbed the tanned girl's hand, a thankful smile flickering on his face for a moment before disappearing. The girl lifted the boy up to his feet again, as the boy seemed a little bit shaky.

She guided the boy through the desert dunes. Her area was in the midst of a sandstorm at the current minute and the governed never sent their money where it was needed, so they were constantly battling droughts throughout the area. She lead him towards a thatched shack that had a few old fashioned chairs out on the front verandah. It seemed like it hadn't been occupied for years, yet it was what she called home. Truthfully, she frequently stayed with her cousin in Bane's Ridge — it had been months since she had actually been in her own house.

She coughed on some dust particles as she reached her front doorstep. She could barely believe that she still had the key to this place, let alone how dusty it was. Old yellow tiles were covered with dust and stray shoes, a pet bed for a Yamper laying in the middle of a messy hallway. Bowls covered every counter's surface, Sheila even noticing rats stealing crumbs of bread from an old and creaky wooden cupboard.

Old wooden chairs met at a table with four intricately designed legs, on top being a frilly white tablecloth. She blinked as she noticed the dust covering the area that had clearly not been inhabited for months. A small girl with unruly blackish-brown hair and equally as tanned skin greeted her in the middle of the hallway.

"Amity, what are you doing in the hall?" she asked.

The girl shrugged. "Ma's not home from work yet and she made me clean me dusty old room," she complained. The girl perked up when she noticed Bruce. "Sis, you didn't tell me you had a boyfriend!"

"Aw hell. Amity, he's just a friend who's a boy. Nothing amorous going on here." She groaned, putting he head in her hands. "Why don't you go play with Millie in the yard?"

This distracted the small girl. "That's fine! I taught Mil how to shake my hand yesterday!" she said gleefully, rushing out the front door and into the withered grass yard.

Sheila smiled bashfully as she guided the boy to the sitting area. A slightly smashed flatscreen TV stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by a multitude of floral patterned couches. She flopped on one of them and waved him to the one on the opposite side of the room.

"So, what's wrong? Anything up?" She inquired, cocking her head to the side in curiosity.

"Everything is wrong," Bruce confessed, still wearing the same downcast expression from earlier. "I fucked up with me mum and now I've stuffed things up with Nellie."

"What, pray tell, did you fuck up?" She asked him.

"Everything."

...

She sighed as Bruce explained every single thing to her. How rude he'd been to Cornelia and how they'd had the ginormous argument about how he was a criminal. Then he explained that she had shattered him so much  when she had finally let out that she had hated him. The boy ended up letting out every single detail of what had happened.

Sheila, being the friend that she was, sat and listened during the entire ordeal. All she thought about was how Bruce must be feeling at thee moment. She'd noticed how much what his rival thought of him really mattered to the young boy. With a soft smile, she watched him heave a sigh.

"Really," he confessed, "if she acts that way towards me, and if she really hates me... is it really worth me loving her the way I do?"

Heaving a sigh of relief at the boy finally having said all that he had needed to say, Sheila looked at him forlornly. "Do you really think that she feels that way about you?" she asked him with a caring smile crossing her face for a moment. "I mean, 'hate' is an extremely strong word. I strongly doubt that she actually hates you."

"I guess you're right... but what can I do about it?" He wondered aloud. "I don't want to destroy her like I did with Mum."

"Look here," Sheila snapped, facing the boy's head towards her. "What your mum did to herself is never, was never, and never will be your fault. You've got to have some resilience, mate." She sighed. "And, to answer your question, I'm going to have a little talk with her."

"That's not going to fix anything," he muttered helplessly.

"No, my nice hat will go off. Look, if you want her to believe you're anything other than a criminal, you might have to start doing something about it. I'm going to pull some weight, only if you do the same," she told the boy with a soft smile crossing her face yet again. "I'm your friend, okay? I really care about you."

A smile crossed the boy's face for the first time in a while. He scratched at his scruffy mop of short hair and his whole face brightened. "Sheila, thanks," he said gruffly. "I really appreciate it."

"It was really no problem, mate," she batted off his thanks with a shake of her head. "I'm more than happy to help you when you need it. I always have your back, yeah?"

He nodded. "Yeah," he agreed, a bright grin beaming all over his face.

"Oh, that's right! I need to check on Amity. Knowing her, she's gotten lost with that Yamper," she groaned, putting her face in her left palm and stroking it roughly.

"I'm sure your sis will be just fine," Bruce told Sheila with a smile. "The little ankle-biter gets by on her own."

"I guess," the girl said flatly, shrugging. "I think I'm really ready to let go of this old shack. I can take Amity and Millie with me, and live with my cousin in Bane's Ridge."

"Yeah, the desert must be boring," he murmured.

"Damn right," she agreed.