& now i'm feeling different .| clementina/emberly

It's incredibly difficult to breathe. With every breath my head spins and my chest lights itself on fire. I move and roll and fidget until I find the best position to lay in. I throw my spear deep into the sand and lean against it, careful not to tear the stitches in my back. With shades over my eyes, sunscreen lathered over my skin, and cap tipped over my head, I watch as Emberly cleans the blade of her sword in the ocean. Rhetoric's blood. Some of which I put on that blade.

I've managed to kill two kids in two days. For a girl who knows she's meant to die in this place, I'm sure trying pretty hard to live.

I try to riddle it all out in my head as the waves lick at my heels and dried blood washes away from Emberly's hands. None of this really feels real. Part of me thinks I'm hallucinating. The other part hopes this is all a dream. I've lost so much blood and hydration that I'm sure this is all just some elaborate fever dream—well, a nightmare.

Emberly sits next to me, her toes in the sand, the water washing over her toes the way it washes against my heels. It pulls me out of my fever dream haze for a moment. Feels too real to be something my mind has made up. Between shallow breaths I glance at her—mostly to check to make sure she's okay, a small portion of my mind guiltily watching to make sure she doesn't leave me here to die alone.

I've riddled out that much; I really don't want to die alone.

When I look back to the ocean I could swear that there are a dozen koalas dancing in the ocean. Maybe I'm not as sane as I thought I was.

"Do you think that's your ice cream, Tina?"

I look to Emberly. Her eyes are trained on the sky, specifically on a parachute gliding towards us. I smile because laughing hurts far too much. I manage a small—"Yeah, right."—between breaths. But as the silver bowl drifts closer, landing almost perfectly in the sand right next to me, I just blink at it for a second.

I was kidding. Just a moment of light-headed, light-hearted nonsense in a moment of dread so I'd be less terrified of a gun waving in my face. I hadn't actually meant for--

In all of my thoughts I'd already brought a spoonful of the mint green to my lips. I've never been good at crying; people who are in charge and meant to be the strong, protective types are meant to be level-headed and poised. Tears only blur things. Feelings aren't really allowed.

But I let my eyes fill with tears for a moment as the sugary sweet fluff melts in my mouth. I've never been more thankful in my entire life. And it's not just the ice cream that brings to tears to my eyes and my heart into my throat. I've never had anyone listen to me before, never really thought anyone cared, never dreamed anyone would dare to watch over me.

I smile, manage a breathless, "Thank you."

After a few bites to myself, I come back from my haze, a smile on my lips and sugar on my lips. It feels like adrenaline has suddenly started pumping through my veins again, even though I'm in no immediate danger. But the pain subsides just long enough that I can lean over to Emberly with a smile.

"It came with two spoons."