Friendship is Stronger than Ice (title not set in stone :P)~

Ch. 7 ~ Blame Game

When my eyes open this morning, I’m surprised that I’m alive. I mean, honestly. When I laid down to go to sleep last night, I had little hope I’d ever even breathe again. My entire body had been cold. A dead kind of cold that you don’t know unless you’ve experienced it…It’s so hard to describe. The fire barely warmed me, in fact, it hurt. When I reached out after having taking my gloves off, it hurt to warm my hands, to get them working again. I don’t know why, but I bet Survivor Man or Bear Grylls does. When we get out of this, I swear I’m going to tape and watch every single episode of it from now on.
“Good mornin’,” says Alex, smiling at me. Apparently his arm feels better, because now he’s stoking the fire with a few hearty logs--logs that must have taken two arms to pick up.
“Mornin’,” I respond softly, stretching a bit. I sit up and feel something slide off of me; I smile when I notice it’s Sam’s coat. I set it aside gently, asking, “Where’s Sam?”
“I dunno,” Alex rolled his eyes.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m positive.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m positive!”
“Are you sure!?’
“I’m sure!”
“Are you positive you’re sure?” I start to laugh now, light heartedly.
He doesn’t find this funny. He glares at me and pauses, shaking his head and mumbling something about “children.” He stands. “I’m going to go find some more wood, like a real man. Keep an eye on Kayla, would you?”
Like a real man? I guess Sam and Alex got in a little tiff while I was asleep. Typical. I have horrible timing, as usual. I look over at Kayla. She doesn’t look too good. The poor thing is pale and shivering in her sleep.
I glance down to her leg; it doesn’t look too good, either. I can tell by the way her laces seem to be straining to stay tied that it’s swollen or something. Trust me, I’m far from a doctor, so the most medically term you’ll hear me say is “medically.”
She whimpers in her sleep and I pity her. I slip Sam’s coat over her, and she stomps whimpering almost immediately. I notice suddenly that Alex’s coat is under her head like a pillow. Animosity builds in me, dispersing only when I breath out deeply. No, I won’t get mad at her. Not now. No, no, I’ve got to keep my cool.
But it sounds like I’m not the only one mad.
“Watch it!” The snarl cuts through the still air carelessly, followed by a string of profanities.
“Hey, it wasn’t my fault,” snaps Sam in response.
“Oh, yeah, because you’re so perfect, because nothing’s ever your fault,” sneers Alex.
“Crapsicle,” I whisper, heaving myself to my aching legs. I feel dizzy at first, but I manage to venture forward. I lean against a tree near them and listen. They don’t see me, yet.
I can see that Sam had accidentally walked into Alex, and now Alex’s pathetic bundle of sticks had been dropped and scattered into the snow. Alex looks incredibly miffed and Sam looks a bit vexed, too. Oh, fantastic. This should be interesting.
Sam’s lips purse and he looks away. I can see his body is tense and that he’s resisting the urge to walk away.
“What are you, huh, punk? Are you afraid? Or you just got nothing to say?” Alex growls, stabbing him in the chest roughly.
Sam steps back from him staring at the sky. He’s silent.
Alex laughs sharply and starts shoving around Sam. “You know this is all your fault?” he’s saying, “You know it’s your fault that Kayla’s leg is broken? You know it’s your fault we’re all gonna die?”
Sam’s hands ball into fists but he doesn’t strike out at Alex. He just tries to push him away. Alex takes this as a challenge however and locks his arms around Sam’s, trying to--
“And you said I’m the child?” I say, stepping out from my hiding spot. “Stop that right now.”
They break up immediately, and Sam turns to stalk off.
“Hey!” I snap, reaching out and grabbing his arm. “Don’t you be a hypocrite,” I tell him, staring at him, my eyes narrowed.
Sam looks at me. His eyes are shining oddly and he rips his arm from my weak grip, shaking himself once and then disappearing.
I look at Alex. He’s smug. I reach out and slap him as if to wipe the smirk off of his face. “You, you’re no better!” I shout.
Alex looks stunned. Completely stunned. He rubs his face gently and then starts to pick up his sticks. (Hehehe…pick up sticks…oops, sorry, nerd moment.)
“Oh, so you’re going to ignore me!?” I shriek, feeling rage bubble up in me. “That’s mature--that’s really, really, really mature.” I start to shake, and I feel my leg tense as if I’m going to kick him.
“Don’t you be a hypocrite,” Sam puts a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. Without a second glance to Alex, I follow.
The two of us sit near the dozing Kayla, silent for a few long moments. I notice that someone had spread out a fine blanket of pine needles, so that we wouldn’t have to sit directly on the snow. I bet it was Sam. He’s thoughtful, unlike Alex…My heart aches. I hate it when he makes me hate him.
“Do you really think it’s all my fault?” Sam whispers after a moment. He looks up at me from the corner of his eye, then back down at the fire. Orange embers crackle calmly; they have no idea of the tension of the situation, and their merriment does little to relax me.
I move to touch my hand to his, but realize my glove’s still on. I pause, frown, and remove it, staring for a moment down at my bright red fingers. Then I touch his bare hand; it seems even colder than mine. “No,” I say. “Why would it be your fault?”
“Because I knew…” He looks bitter.
“You argued while I was asleep.” It wasn’t a question, it was statement.
“Yes…He blames me.” He squeezes my hand.
I hug him, stroking his hair. “It’s not your fault,”
He sighs and pulls away from me. “Yeah, whatever…” He stands and just walks off again.
I don’t say anything for a while. In fact, I don’t even speak when Alex comes and apologizes. Better yet, I’m completely wordless for the rest of the day.

Ch. 8 ~ Hunger & Nightmares

As I stated previously, I didn’t talk at all today. Nope. Not one word. And those who are close to me, when I tell them this now, they don’t believe me. They say it’s impossible for me to shut up for a while entire day. I mean, I’m always talking! they explain. It’s impossible for me to shut up!
Well, I didn’t feel like speaking at all that day. My happiness, mentality, and body were completely drained. The cold seemed to be sucking the life right out of my body. I am now laying down next to Kayla, my eyes part way open. I can’t believe she slept the entire day. Though, I don’t blame her.
After the whole thing with Alex and Sam, Sam walked off and didn’t return for a long while. When he did come back, Alex teased him with such in explicit manner that I wanted to vomit. Sam just sat there and took it. I could see in his eyes whenever he looked my way that he was upset, and I tried to comfort him, but he was beyond consoling now.
Alex shifts. He had dragged a few logs around the fire so that we could sit on them. He acts now like we’re all on some sort of camping trip. He’s the troop leader, of course. He has to be in charge of everything he does in a group. Ugh. I normally hate people like that, but….I can’t hate him, no matter how I try. Isn’t that sad?
His eyes suddenly light up. “I have my iPhone!” he cries, jumping up. When he speaks his breath curls about him in puffs of steam.
“Seriously!?” this is Sam speaking, and he bounds to his feet, traipsing over to Alex.
Alex nods, his face slowly turning dark red. I’d be embarrassed if I were him, too.
I rise as well, but I’m still on a Silent-Strike. I join them, peeking over Alex’s shoulder.
“Any service?” Sam asks.
Alex looks at Sam. “We’re in the middle of the woods,” he says slowly, “and you honestly expect that I’m going to get service?”
Sam cringes but rolls his eyes. “You never know?” he grumbles, shaking his head and look down.
“I do know, because I don’t have any service, see?” He gestures to the thing and sighs. “Piece of crap,” He tosses it down.
I snort and pick it up. “Takes one to know one,” I say, turning away from his astonished expression. I look down at it and start to skim through the apps, curious.
“Give it back, Fen.” Alex says coldly. I can feel his glare boring into the back of my damp, slightly matted hair. I don’t react. I continue to surf through the apps…
He slaps my arm so hard that I gasp and drop it. Snapping a string of profanities at me, he picks up the iPhone and sits down. Sam and I look stunned. Rage burns in Sam’s eyes and he makes a swift movement at Alex, but I jump in front of him and wrap my arms around him. “Don’t start,” I whisper, my voice shaking. Wh--? Oh. I’m crying.
Alex rolls his eyes and looks up at us. “Get a room,” he says.
I recoil from Sam and stumble off a few paces. Near Sleeping Beauty I sit down, my lips trembling and my eyes watering uncontrollably.
Silence settles in as the sun once again starts to sink down below the horizon. I keep licking my lips because they sting. Every time I lick them they stay moist for a quarter of a second, and then pain surges through them and they hurt again. My limbs feel like iron weights strapped to noodles. My fingers and toes feel like little stones. My face feels harder than plaster, my solemn and miserable expression unbreakable. I can feel the pure ice in the air seeping in through my poorly insulated jacket, old jeans and ancient boots.
But there’s a feeling worse than all of those that lives in my core.
Hunger.
Pure, undefined craving for food. Any food. This isn’t really surprising to me, to a degree. I’m always hungry. My mom says it’s because I have a fast metabolism, but I think instead of a stomach I have a black hole. This hunger, though, is different from any other I’ve felt.
It’s excruciating. I feel as if my stomach grew claws and teeth and is gnawing at itself, trying to satisfy this unbearable feeling. My entire abdomen is sore, too, but I suppose that’s from being flung against a tree and sleeping on the ground.
I can’t believe it’s my second day stranded out in the middle of no where. In the middle of winter. In a cold, unforgiving climate. After a few seconds I curl up on my side and start thinking. My thoughts take me far away…
I laid on a beach, on a blanket. I wore a black bathing suit that made me look pretty dang hot; my hair was back in a pony tail, and I wore sun glasses to prevent my eyes from melting in their sockets. The sun beat down on me, and I was so warm I was sweating.
My belly was full from the huge lunch I’d eaten. Three hot dogs, an iced tea, two cookies, and a chocolate bar. My mother had warned me I shouldn’t go swimming after I ate so fast, so I had in turn decided to lay down for a while. In the distance, by the shore, I could hear my littler siblings screaming and laughing.
With a contented moan I stretched out to my full length, curling my toes in the pleasantly scorching sand. The moment of peace ended when I felt a bug crawl across my bare tummy. I screamed and arched my back, flicking at it desperately. Next to me I heard my mother laughing and chiding me.
Then suddenly clouds gather above. All the people on the beach, seen through in my tinted vision, stood. They started to panic. Parents ushered their children away from the water and started packing their things. Besides me, I could hear my own mother babbling for my siblings and I felt her rip the blanket from underneath me.
“Hey!” I whined, standing and dusting myself off. “That was mean, first of all. Second of all, I’m sure it’ll just pass over, I mean, it doesn’t look that bad.” I glanced at the sky. “Okay, maybe it does look bad…” The sky had completely blackened. Golden tongues ran through them, brightening the area brilliantly. The waves started slamming vehemently into the shore, their rage made the beach goers scream. In a way, though, they were graceful, stunning.
A loud crack of thunder jolted me from my staring. It sounded like my name. “ROSIE.” Defined, clear in the deep rumbling overhead. Huh. That was weird.
I realized that my mom was running away from me with my little sisters and brother. Frowning started to walk after them down the beach. “Mom?” I called. She didn’t respond other than running faster.
Panic hammered my heart against my chest faster than any man made machine could. I started to wail. “MOM! NO! COME BACK! HELP ME!” I didn’t know why I needed help, but it seemed a legit thing to say.
My mom disappeared. I felt warm tears ooze down my cheeks. The thunder spoke my name rapidly now; “ROSIE, ROSIE, ROSIE, ROSIE.” I felt the ground rock below me and I started to stumble.
“NO! SOMEONE! HELP ME!” I screamed, my voice so high pitched that it hurt my own ears. I fell then, landing hard on the sand. I felt like I was slipping through it--and indeed I was. I fell through the sand and was falling in blackness for a few moments. Almost complete solace, peace. But of course the thunder roared my name and continued to shake me.
Then scenery flickered to life around me. I was falling towards the rolling ocean. If I looked close enough, I could see people in the waves. Arms stretching out to get me--faces staring up at me.
“NO!” I screeched, bucking and squirming.
“ROSIE, ROSIE!” chanted the storm.
The sea below me churned and started to part--
“ROSIE!”
Then it flashed white. It wasn’t sea any longer. It was ice. Cold, hard ice that I was going to hit while falling from who knows how high in the sky. I shut my eyes and thought, I hope that when I hit I die instantly. A slow death would suck.
“ROSIE FOR--…oh, you woke up.” I’m staring up into Sam’s eyes. I blink rapidly and sit up, pushing him away from me. My movements are slow and robotic because my joints throb.
“What happened?” I groan groggily.
He frowned. “You fell asleep and then started freaking out. You were rolling and kicking and whimpering and stuff, so I tried to wake you up, but you kept telling me no.”
I blinked. My cheeks warmed vaguely. “Oh…” I say with a weak laugh. “I…I see…uhm…thank you.”
He sighs quietly and helps me sit up. “Want some food?”
Instantly I start salivating. “Food?”
Sam laughs. “You’d think we’d been out here for years with the face you just made,” he teases, shaking his head. “Yes, food. Alex killed a squirrel by chucking his iPhone at it.”
I start to giggle. “No--fudging--way. Seriously?”
“Seriously,” Alex pipes up. I can barely see him, he’s sitting across from us. On a stick is the alleged squirrel. The sun has disappeared so he and the squirrel are cast in deep shadow. “It walked to close to me when it thought I wasn’t looking and I slammed down the iPhone and it twitched and then died. Stupid animal.”
I smile, but my smile fades when I smell the aroma of cooking squirrel. It’s not pleasant, at all. I won’t bother trying to grasp for words to describe it, because unless you’ve smelled it, you don’t know anything. “I’m not going to eat that,” I say suddenly, softly, bluntly.
Alex looks disappointed. “What? Why not?” He waves the squirrel around a little. “It’s yummy!”
“It smells horrible.” I feel my throat clench and I gag, covering my mouth.
Sam sighs softly. “Eat a little bit of it, please?” he begs, looking at me.
“Yeah, we don’t feel like having to put up with your whining about how hungry you are.”
Shivering I stare at them for a few moments. Then I stare down into the fire. It doesn’t provide any answers for me, just keeps crackling and popping away absently. I purse my cracking lips. “Fine,” I mumble.
The squirrel doesn’t taste so bad, I discover. It kind of tastes like chicken. But, sadly, it does little to ease my hunger pains. If anything, the pure disgust that I’ve just eaten a cute little innocent squirrel makes them worse. My luck.