August 4th; Three Island Crossing

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       I am a terrible person. It's just... I couldn't stop it from happening. I tried, but I failed.

       We got to Three Island Crossing, and Michael was still ill. I told him to stay in the wagon, and he wasn't happy about it at all. He did stay in the wagon for a little while, but as we crossed the second river...

       The rivers were rough, and after crossing the first stretch of water, I was almost completely soaked. The waters were rougher than the last river we crossed, and obviously it was a tough crossing.

       We were crossing the second river, and a wagon got stuck.

       Michael was in that wagon.

       Michael was stubborn.

       Michael wanted to be helpful.

       He got out of the wagon and started to push, but...

       As he pushed, he lost his footing. He slipped on a rock or some mud, doesn't matter what it was.

       He was still ill. He couldn't protect himself.

       I heard the splash and turned around to see his body tumbling down the river with his head below the surface. I watched helplessly as he was thrown by the currents against the merciless stones.

       He got caught downstream. My legs were frozen, and from there my memory is fuzzy. I think I remember Crispin charging down the river.

       I didn't remember anything after that, but before I knew it I was sitting in the wagon holding Michael's cold limp body.

       I tried to protect him.

       I told him that I cared about him.

       I showed him how much his existence meant to me.

       We did so many things with each other to show that we cared, so why did he go risking his life when I needed him?

       Why couldn't I protect him?

       Why couldn't I have avoided this?

       Just...why?

The Oregon Trail: Gerald HylandWhere stories live. Discover now