Castaways

21::Hannah the Moon

October 25 2:13 AM

I've come to realize the dark is a vast trap that forces you to think. I think anyone can relate, this thinking is not the good thinking. It's the thinking where your confused where all these dark things had accumulated from and why you even thought of them. They make me feel weak, and that something my body doesn't need at the moment. I'm already sick and I have a concussion, hence the reason I'm not asleep.

"Hey, Hannah, stay with me." Andrews voice rang out.

Andrew, who was in a worse condition than I am, had volunteered to stay up with me. I feel horrible because that boy needs the most sleep. He'd taken a serious beating from the goons. Jerardo bandaged up his own gun wound and then he touched up Andrews. He had a split lip, a shiner, and a bruised and swollen cheek. Not to mention I'm sure he was bruised everywhere else.

"I'm here," I sighed in exhaustion. I sat up, leaning against the boat, opposite of where Andrew sat. We at the back of the small boat and could see the water and the moon reflecting off of it.

He nudged me with his foot. "We're off. Hannah, we made it."

As much as i'd like to agree with him, we're half way there. We're in the middle of the ocean with no sense of direction. We're far from being okay.

"I'm tired," I said mid yawn.

"Stay awake." He said sternly. "I'm serious Hannah."

"Yeah yeah," i muttered. "All I want it sleep though. I've barely gotten any sleep the entire time we've been stranded!"

He sighed, "Hannah, none of us have. I've just been beaten and Jerardo got shot. I think the best thing we need right now is sleep but we can't sleep. Not now."

I rolled my eyes but regretted it, the movement making me nauseous to the point where I do sat up quickly and threw up the contents in my stomach. I felt something pull back my hair, but I hardly paid attention. It felt like I was throwing up my guts. After I finished I wiped my mouth and sat back down, hugging my knees and shutting my eyes quickly. Not only did I have a concussion but I was sea sick.

"I'm tired," I said, for what seemed like the hundredth time that night.

"Look at the moon," Andrew replied, his voice sounding closer than it had before.

I opened my red quickly and noticed how he no longer sat across from me but right next to me, our feet touching.
"It looks like the moon."

"No," he laughed, "It's a blood moon."

Me, now interested in what he has to say, looked up and indeed, there was a blood moon. "Wow...."

"Indeed," he said, turning to face me.

It was then that I realized there was a sudden need to hug him. His lips were plump and red, despite the swollen and bruise, but it was still his lips. Whether damaged or not, it's still him. He stared at me blankly, his face void of emotion. He does that often. He's really hard to read. Me? I'm an open book. I cry easily. I'm stubborn. Ive got some attitude problems; but I'm me. And he's Andrew. The same Andrew that has always been with me and stuck by my side. The same Andrew who too has his mood swings.

"You know, if you hadn't of called me a goody-goody we wouldn't be here." I said deep in thought.

He cracked a smile. "True. But look where we are. You've proven me wrong and we different people now. You and me Hannah, we've become different people without even trying. We're independent and were tough. You and me...we are better...."