"Killian," my voice called. I was more than appalled. Fawn was dead at the man's hands. All so we would follow his demands.

"It was you?" the wise one asked, confused. The man put his hands up, fairly accused.

Tears streamed from Adeline's face. "I've lost all my friends; there is no grace!" I felt bad for her. But what could I do?

I had no clue.

"You still have us," the wise one tried to say. But it was no use, her dearest friend died that day.

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Killian was the reason all my closest friends were gone. If Killian had been smart enough to keep Lexie, Eel would still pay attention to me. If Killian hadn't been so power-hungry, Ruby would have still been alive. If Killian didn't kill Fawn, I would still have a close friend to lean on.

But I have no one now, just like before.

I didn't want to live like this anymore.

Ignoring the shouts of protest and fear, I ran to my shelter and pulled out my bag of throwing stones. Killian was going to die a terrible death.

"No! It wasn't me!" Killian said, still confident in his crippling self. He was backed into the corner of Fawn's shelter.

"I saw you," Emma said between sniffs. "I saw the whole thing."

"You-" Killian cussed.

Emma winced but did not waver.

And I threw the stone. Five rocks were hurled at him until his face was no longer recognizable. Blood dribbled down Fawn's old bed.

Emma and Pierre were frozen with shock.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't stop myself..." My voice is choked and horse. The weight of what I did crashed over top of me.

Pierre wrapped me in a hug. Tears flowed down my cheeks until my body racked with sobs. Now that he was dead, all my anger was replaced with high tides of sorrow.

"It's okay, it's okay," Pierre soothed, stroking my hair.

After a few moments, I pushed away. "Can we bury her?" I was fully aware my voice sounded childish, but I didn't care.

"Yes," Pierre said, "we will.

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I would do anything to have Fawn back. She was my first real friend, despite my rocky reactions. I just needed her back.

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I should have made Killian's death more painful. How could he have killed Fawn? He was a heartless creature.

Filled with anger, I destroyed his shelter.

Only later I realized Fawn had built it.

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She wasn't dead. We would meet on the rocky shore soon.

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"Fawn was an amazing friend," Pierre said. We all stood on the leftover stones of Killian's shelter. "She'll be greatly missed."

I had tried to help bury her, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. The people who did a great job though. The dirt was only a little uneven.

Taking my eyes from the ground, I scanned the ragged teenagers that surrounded me. I was the youngest of them all, only thirteen, but in this light, they all looked small. Just like Little Joey.

Lexie gripped Eel tightly. She wasn't crying but was clearly in shock. Eel just seemed sad, maybe not for Fawn but for Mateo. They were close, I knew that much.

Pierre just kept her eyes glued to the ground. I could tell she was trying her best to suppress teardrops.

Emma didn't attempt to suppress anything. Her tears were full and jagged, howling in the sunrise.

Chad and Jovie just sat with their back to the tree. Chad looked tired and Jovie had a faraway look in her eyes.

I wondered how I looked to everyone else.

They might describe me as cold. Or repressive. Maybe bored with my own emotions. I don't know.

Having friends was so painful.

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The days passed on and I found myself talking to Pierre frequently. Sometimes, when I was feeling decent, I would visit Eel and we would talk. Lexie was always beside him, though I didn't mind it anymore.

I cut my hair short. Neck length. Even shorter than Lexie's shoulder length. But there was no use comparing.

Lexie wasn't my enemy. She never really was.

One night, I stayed up all night to keep Emma company. She's okay. She reminds me of Fawn in the way she just wants to survive.

I want to do more than survive.

Before the boat sank, I was destined for greatness, as long as I followed my parent's plan. Many advanced placement classes, many languages, and many instruments...

I wondered if they missed me. Did they worry for me? Or had they assumed I died on the ship?

Would we ever be rescued? Would I ever see them again? Or would the island be my final destination in life?

What did I even want?

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There were warships on the horizon, heading straight for us. Buzz spread around the island and hope was renewed. If the boats kept to their route, and they were ally ships, we would finally be saved!

After the deaths, no one even thought of staying on the island. Even before, I was pretty sure everyone was desperate to escape. Sure, we made some friends, but we could catch up over Flitter. Nothing was keeping us on this island.

When a ship finally docked on our island, I couldn't believe it. It played out like a hazy daydream. Everyone rushed toward it with great cheer and celebration. A flag blowing in the wind revealed it was a Brazilian ship. As far as I knew, Brazil was allied with the states.

I was finally going to leave. I was finally going to leave!

A single man, dressed in uniform, stepped off the boat and greeted the group of us. "Hello," he said. His voice had the barest hint of an accent.

"Hello," Pierre greeted. Everyone looked at the man with big eyes.

"Are there any adults with you?" he asked, brow furrowed.

"No," Jovie shook her head.

"Just seven teens and a little boy," Pierre informed him.

"Ah." He stroked his beard. "I see. Well, we saw your smoke and decided to come see what was going on. As far as the rest of the world knew, this island was uninhabited, so you can see how peculiar it was to us."

"Yes sir," Pierre said. "We were studying abroad on a ship before it crashed and, after a bit of life-boating, we found this place. Elijah is from a plane crash though. He wasn't on the ship with us."

"Ah. I see... So that's what you've been doing: camping out here?"

"Erm, yes sir."

"Everyone's okay?"

"Except for the four."

"The four?"

"Dead."

"Ah. I see... Well, it's about time you guys get off the island then."

"We'll go back home?" Jovie asked. A hopeful smile was painted on her oval face.

"You'll fight with us," the man clarified. "We can't get back to the states, which I assume you all come from, quite yet. If you don't want to fight you can always cook." He stroked his beard once more. "Always need more cooks."

Fight in a war? But I was only thirteen... It felt like a punch in the gut.

"Anything to get off this awful island," Elijah said.

"Should we pack up our things?" Lexie asked.

"You have things?" the man asked, eyeing our tattered clothes.

Lexie sighed. "No, not really."

"Come aboard then," he said, turning his side to the boat.

A wave of stress came over me. I didn't want to leave the wretched island just to go fight in a wretched war. Or cook on a smelly ship. I was too young. Way, way, way too young. I just wanted to go home.

Lexie and Eliaj were the first to board the boat. Everyone else hesitated, possibly for the same reason I did.

"Come on," Lexie called, eyeing us.

"Don't worry," the man said. "The boat won't bite."

"But war will," Chad muttered. The man didn't seem to have heard him, or maybe he just ignored Chad.

All the eyes that were so very fixated on the man before were glued to the sandy ground.