Journal of the Survivors

Chapter Five--Kyra

Chapter Five—Kyra

So much for peaceful writing. That didn’t go as planned. I sigh and slam my journal shut. Around the shed are discarded newspapers. I pick one up and flip through it. A headline catches my eyes: BOY MISSING. The article is about a boy who was treated with “The Cure” for his cancer. He somehow managed to escape from the high security facility he was in and so the scientists and his family were trying to locate him. They said it was urgent and necessary that he was found soon and returned. The boy had been a soldier in World War Three, which could be where he acquired the skills to break out of the treatment residence. There’s a picture too. It used to be in colour, but it wasn’t exactly stored in perfect conditions. The ink has faded and the colours have become distorted. Nonetheless, the boy in the picture looks handsome and sad. His hair is—or was—buzzed off for cancer treatment I am assuming. Or maybe it was when he just joined the army. The colour of his eyes is long gone, but the expression on his face can still be seen. He looks partially sad, but also a little angry at whoever is taking his picture. I wonder where he is now.

            I toss the paper away and try not to think of horrible, gory, undeniable possibilities that have happened to all those “treated” with “The Cure”. I contemplate staying out here like a brat but decide that maybe I should try to fix things with Arch. Too be honest, I’ve never really been good at staying mad at people. I open my door and almost walk into a fist.

            “Well, that was weird,” Archer says.

            “Yea, you nearly punched my face,” I laugh.

            “Hey! That’s not how it went. You nearly walked into my fist with your face! There’s a difference you know.”

            “That’s what you were trying to stage it to make it look like. Too bad I foiled your plans with my genius-ness.”

            And just like that everything is better. Well, almost everything.

            Archie opens his arms and I hug him.

            “I’m sorry,” we say at the same time.

            “You first,” he insists.

            “I’m sorry for making it seem like I was calling you names and making fun of you. And for calling you a hypocrite. I’m happy if you’re happy with Bailey.”

            “And I’m sorry for being a dumbass. I shouldn’t get angry if you do something that makes you happy. I swear I’ll be supportive of you and Danno.”

            “There is no me and Danno,” I tell him.

            “You mean there’s no you and Danno if you don’t try. Give it a go. What’s the worst that could happen, right?” he smiles encouragingly.

            “You sure?”

            He laughs. “No, I’m never sure. But I do know that you and he have feelings for each other. I just don’t know, and I think you guys don’t know either, what those feelings mean. Might as well try to find out.”

            “Maybe you’re right.”

            “Aha! So you do like him!”

            I punch Arch. “Shut-up before I accidentally make you walk into my fist.”

            “That’s a pretty big threat for such a little girl.” He pats my head.