Page 43 of Stranded

Yeah… maybe it was trauma. How do people deal with this on the mainland? I try to remember if I’ve seen anything on a tv show, but I only recall people having trauma, not what they did to help with it.

Well, I’ve survived fifteen years by trying to ignore mine and burying it deep inside. That’s worked for me so far, so there’s no need to change thingsnow.

The next morning, I’m groggy again, the nightmares constantly waking me up.

I feel guilty for making Bower think he did something wrong yesterday, so I decide to bring some breakfast as a peace offering, hoping they don’t ask me about what happened.

I don’t hear them calling my name this morning, so they’ve either given up on me, or they’re still asleep.

I climb down and the soft sounds of their snoring reach my ears, making my lips twitch in amusement. Some people might hate the sound of snoring, but I find it comforting, it reminds me that I’m not alone.

I continue down to the ground, fill up my waterskin and pick a handful of plums, all before they wake up. So when they finally emerge from their hut, they find me sitting around the unlit fire pit, flipping the jerky.

“Zee! You’re here,” Bower says excitedly as he makes his way down with his backpack on his shoulder. I stand and when he gets closer, he seems to stop himself short a few feet from me, his hands clenching at his sides.

“Good morning, Bower. Breakfast?” I hold out two plums and a leaf with several pieces of jerky, it's not quite ready to package, but it’s definitely edible.

His eyes widen in surprise, but he takes my offering quickly. “Thanks, I’m starving.”

Kingsley snorts, coming up beside him. “When are you not?”

“Good morning, Kingsley.” I hold out his breakfast and he hesitates a second before taking it, then sits on one of the rocks around the fire pit beside Bower.

The two of them eat silently, both offering me small smiles of reassurance.

“Did you eat?” I spin around, not having expected Weston to be standing right behind me.

“What?” I ask, his large presence making my mind go blank.

“I asked if you’ve eaten yet.”

“Oh, ah, not yet.”

“Sit,” he says, pointing at one of the rocks. I open my mouth to argue but he narrows his eyes at me. I remember what he said when I first cooked the boar, and how he wanted me to eat before himself. It seemed to genuinely upset him that I wouldn’t eat first.

With guilt about last night still driving me, I sit down where he’s still pointing and pull out two plums, offering him one as I bite into the other.

He watches me for a moment, then takes the fruit and sits beside me, taking a bite himself. I offer him some jerky, making sure he sees me take a bit of a piece first.

“Eep!”

My little buddy finally decides to make an appearance as he jumps down onto my shoulder and grabs the half eaten plum from my hand.

Weston frowns at him but doesn’t comment. It’s not like I could stop Mo-Mo from stealing from me, even if I wanted to.

I pull out two more plums and toss one at Weston so he can’t refuse it, biting into my own quickly. These guys need a lot more food than I do, so I’ll have to take that into account next time I gather food.

He stares at me, his intense gaze bouncing between my eyes and my mouth. It’s strange, having him watch me like this, not eating anything until I do. He’s like the opposite of Mo-Mo.

I turn to my friend and run a finger down his striped tail. “What have you been up to?” I give the spot behind his ear a little scratch. He doesn't reply, just shoves the plum into his mouth and takes another bite.

“Hmm, that busy, huh?” When he finishes, he trills a little at me, maybe telling me exactly what he’s been up to for all I know, then he jumps off my lap and runs back into the jungle.

I finish my plum, throwing the pit into the fire and taking a sip of water as I look around at the others.

Bower rubs his hands together, grinning at me with excitement. “Are you ready, Tink?”

“Uhh… ready for what, exactly?” I ask in confusion.

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