The Brave and the Broken

Self-appointed

Altruism: the belief in or practice of disinterested and selfless concern for the well-being of others; behavior of an animal that benefits another at its own expense

     I lay there for a couple of seconds, trying my hardest to get over the pain. Then I slowly sat up, wincing as I did so. Blood dripped from my nose and I wiped it away with my sleeve. I could tell that I was bleeding in multiple places and, more likely than not, had a concussion. But I didn't care at the moment.

     I looked around for Gally and saw him lying face down in the grass. I slowly stood. "Gally?" I said, wincing. No response. "Gally!" I said again, louder this time. This time he grunted. Oh, thank God, I thought. He's alive. I walked over to him and crouched down next to him.

     I rolled him over, struggling due to our difference in size. As I did so, I felt a warmth against my hand and drew it away, looking at it closely. It was blood, and lots of it.

     I gasped and wiped my hand off on my jeans and successfully rolled him onto his back. He must have fallen hard onto something, bashing his side. He was still conscious, but barely. My breath caught and tears welled up in my eyes once again.

     "No. N—n—n—n—no. Gally. Hold on; you have to hold on just a little while longer. Come on. You can't die, Gally, you're my best friend. You have to stay strong for me, you have to stay strong."

     I pulled my bandana out of my pocket. "Remember this?" I said, tears threatening to push past the barrier I had created for myself. "You gave this to me just a couple days ago. Remember? You found me crying and were the only one to be there for me. You helped me," I said, stuffing it into his open wound to help stop the bleeding, "and now I'm going to help you."

     The bandana was already soaked with blood and it wouldn't be helpful for much longer so I took my flannel off, and stuffed it onto the wound as well, hoping it would at least keep the blood in long enough for him to get some help. "I need you to hold this here, okay? Keep the blood in." I grabbed his hand and placed it on his wound, pressing it against my flannel. I wiped the blood off of my hands onto my shirt and looked around. There was no way I would have been able to lug him back to the Glade by myself. "I have to go get someone to help now, but I will be right back."

     Tears were streaming down my face now and I wiped them away ferociously as I stood and ran back to the Glade, trying my hardest to ignore the pain piercing through me. At least it had only been my head and hands and not my legs. As soon as I reached the end of the trees, I sprinted off as fast as I could towards the Homestead where I knew I would find Clint and Jeff.

     I reached the Homestead and ripped the door open. I was exhausted but didn't have time to catch my breath. "Clint," I shouted, "Jeff!" I heard boys shifting and mumbling angrily. I felt against the wall to find a light switch. "Guys," I bellowed. I found a switched and turned on the lights. Some guys covered their eyes but others gawked at me, wide-eyed, many looking scared. Probably because of the blood on my clothes or how bad my face probably looked. But I didn't care.

     "Clint, Jeff!" I yelled again. "It's Gally." That did it, I was finally to the point where I couldn't bear it anymore. I was out of breath and my head was pounding. "It's Gally," I said again, this time under my breath and more to myself than anyone else. I grabbed my head, willing the pain to stop at least long enough for me to help Gally.

     Clint came up to me, grabbing my shoulders. "What happened?" He asked. There was a knot in my throat. Rather than saying something, I just shook my head, willing the tears to stay at bay as best as I could for now. "Can you take me to him?" I nodded, grabbing his arm and leading him out of the Homestead and up to the forest.

     "The Deadheads," he mumbled. He looked at me. "Why on Earth were you guys in the Deadheads?" I shook my head once again and dragged him into the Deadheads by his sleeve, leading him to Gally's body.

     I realized then that even the two of us wouldn't be able to carry Gally's large body through the forest and Glade and to the Homestead. I hadn't thought about that before. Thankfully, though, I heard the snapping of twigs under feet and knew that others were on their way. Alby, Minho, Jeff, Leo, Ben, and a couple of boys that I didn't know were all there.

     One of the boys I didn't know walked up and looped his arms underneath Gally's armpits, lifting his torso off the ground. The other boys followed suit, many grabbing another body part and lifting it off the ground. Soon, they were holding him and started to slowly walk back in the direction of the Glade, trying their best to avoid trees and low-hanging branches. One kid tripped over an exposed tree root, almost causing the others to drop Gally but Minho, who hadn't been carrying a body part yet, caught the part the other boy dropped and they continued their walk to the Glade.

     Leo was one of the few who didn't help carry Gally. He walked up to me and I hugged him tightly, needing comfort from someone. He hesitated slightly before returning the hug. Like most of the boys in the Glade, he was much larger than me—and I was engulfed in his arms. I felt a tear escaping and hugged him even tighter, not wanting to let go, for fear that he and others would see me crying.

     "Hey, Greenie," Someone shouted from the direction we came. I pulled slowly away, being careful to discretely wipe the tears from my face while doing so. Leo turned and went beside me and I got a good look at the guy walking up to us, presumably the same guy who was speaking. "What the shuck did you two think you were doin'?" It was clear he was talking to me.

     "Hey, chill out, Nick," Leo intervened, stepping slightly in front of me.

     "No, you 'chill out'. You haven't even been here much longer than she has. You don't call the shots."

     Leo stiffened. "Exactly," he said slowly." So it'll be easier for me to get through to her than you. She ain't gonna trust you."

     The other guy stood there for a moment, staring us down, then turned and stormed away in a huff.

     "Who was that?" I asked once he was out of listening distance.

     "That was Nick; our 'Leader'," he made quotation marks with his fingers at the last word.

     I furrowed my eyebrows. "Leader?" I looked up at him. "But—but I thought Gally was the Leader?" I said it as a question, rather than a statement.

     He nodded but then shook his head. I cocked my head at him and waited for him to elaborate. He sighed. "Well, they're both kind of self-appointed leaders here. Don't really get along well, either."

     "No one gets on well with Nick." I heard Newts familiar voice from behind and turned around to see him limping toward us. I went to him and hugged him, burying my face in his chest the same as I did Leo. He hugged me back but let go quickly so I did the same.

     "Nick did ask a good question, though. What were you guys doing?" Leo asked, walking over to me and Newt and we started walking back in the direction of the Glade.

     "Nothing, really," I started. He gave me a suspicious look. "I'm serious! Neither of us could sleep so we decided to have some fun. We came out here and climbed that tree over there," I turned back and pointed at the tree, "and we just talked for a while. But then we fell out."

     "What did you guys talk about?" Leo pushed.

     "Not much," I glanced at Newt, "just dreams."

     "Dreams?"

     "Yes, Leo. Dreams. Can this interrogation be over already, please?" I was suddenly fed up answering all these dumb questions and just wanted to see Gally.

     "Okay, okay. Sorry."

     "Mhm."

     "What now?"

     "What do you mean, 'what now?' We go and make sure Gally's okay, that's 'what now'." We continued a slow walk to the Homestead.