PROMPT: write a story where your protagonist is lost in a jungle with the person they hate most

"Look, we're not going to get out of this place alive if you don't get your shit together," I snap at Melissa, grabbing hold of her wrist and pulling her through the thick foliage to prevent her from falling behind.

"We'll never get out of this stupid jungle," she whines pathetically and wriggles out of my grip, though stays closer to me this time.

I merely grit my teeth. There's not much more I can tell her. Both of us are in the same position here, and we have no choice but to stick together.

Besides, if she died, it'd definitely do a number on my moral conscious.

We'd been on a school trip for a week, before we found ourselves separated from the rest of the group. Melissa wandered off deeper and deeper into the jungle and, like the idiot that I so clearly am, I went after her.

Our phones died in a matter of hours, but they weren't much help anyway – we got zero signal and not even the emergency call function was working. Not only were we lost in the jungle, we weren't at all prepared for it – our geography teacher had all of our kit stored in the van we'd used to get the ferry across to this godforsaken island.

Yep. Not only are we stranded in a jungle, we're also on an island. With barely any civilisation, well, not as we know it, anyhow.

I'd kept Melissa and myself going for a few days, but it was starting to take a heavy toll on both of us. The humidity made us sweat constantly, the lack of water sending us almost crazed; we can't even talk about food anymore.

Due to our perpetual exhaustion, we sometimes manage to stop bickering for a little while, at least. But then she does something inexplicably irritating and sends me ape shit crazy.

The chances that I'd end up in a jungle with my high school arch nemesis are extremely low, and yet it's happened all the same.

"C'mon. We've got to get to the top of this mountain," I insist, powering up through the thick undergrowth, my muscles aching.

"What's even the point, Olivia?" Melissa whinges. "There's no chance in hell we're gonna get out of here."

Hearing her strained voice on the cusp of tears, I slowly turn around, groaning internally at our slow progress. I explain to her what I've told her at least twice before, "If we get to the top of this hill, then we can get a better vantage point. We will be able to see the port, which we can hopefully get to and wait for the next ferry to come."

She sniffs back tears and nods, mustering up more determination than I think she's ever done in her entire life. Her hands tighten into fists and she continues upwards, not saying a word as she passes me.

Despite her silence, her agreeing with me gives me just a flicker of hope. If I can keep us both going for a little while longer, then maybe – just maybe – we can get out of here alive.

(523 words)