When 17 young adults find themselves on a deserted island, they must build a life from the ground up. Being stranded means hard days, cold nights, dangerous waters and mysterious events where the castaways must learn to survive. Despite the inevita...
There were six cracks in the wooden floor that separated my mattress from Amara's. All shaped differently, all way too big. Night settled outside like an old train finally reaching its last stop. It was tired, quiet and slow. A couple hours had gone by in silence before I went out to the courtyard to get both Amara and I dinner. I didn't feed her this time.
Everything felt static. Everything felt too fast. The island contradicted itself in so many ways.
After taking both Amara and my bowls and leaving them on a counter, I went to my side of the room. It wasn't far from her but it still felt miles away. I dusted my mattress before sitting down. The night was colder than yesterday's so I wore an extra shirt. Amara wore a windbreaker as well as a cardigan underneath. She looked like a multi-colored marshmallow but it was endearing. Almost too endearing.
I scrubbed my hands down my face and yawned. My body froze when I heard her voice, "What happens if you do something that permanently hurts your hands? On the island?"
I pulled my hands down and looked at her. Her head was tilted and her body lay on her side, facing me. A surgeons hands were their careers. If I can't have them steady, then a patient's life is in danger and I can't practice. I frowned, "I don't like thinking about the bad 'what ifs'"
Her lips quirked, "Only the good ones then, Doc?"
The tension in the room eased. "Yeah, the good ones."
"Like what if the sky rained chocolate tomorrow morning?"
I smirked but nodded because I liked seeing the soft smile on her face. "Or what if the comms system suddenly starts working again and we can send out a help signal."
"Yeah, or or or, here me out" she drawled out, "What if we all gained superpowers overnight and became the next Avengers."
"Love your realism, Amara." I chuckled and slipped into the bed. Turning to face her, I placed my head on my hands and watched her watch me.
"At this point, Doc" she sighed. "It feels like my 'what if's' are almost as realistic as yours."
A comfortable calm cascaded down the infirmary and I whispered out, "We're going to make it, Amara."
Hope was like a shackle. Sometimes you don't know if it's what's keeping you steady and anchored or if it's precisely the thing holding you down. Hope had a gravity unlike any other. It was why doctor's never made promises. Except with her... with her, I wanted to promise the world.
"What if we don't?"
I swallow at the strain in her voice, cracked around the edges, pulling me in. I didn't want her to think I was using her as a comfort. I didn't want her to feel like a figure of my affection just because we were stuck on an island. I needed her to need me. It was killing me, not to lean in and ask her if she would let me taste her lips. Drove me crazy not knowing if she would kiss me back.
"Well, then we have both everything and nothing."
She nodded, like she understood then Amara turned her head to face the ceiling. She shut her eyes and I waited for her breathing to even out before I let the weight of my eyelids take over.
Everything and nothing both have the same quantity. They both consume everything in their path and take no survivors. I dream of it in the hours after sleep takes over. I dream of everything and nothing all at once. My mother's smile, the sound of lights turning on in an emergency room, the smell of my father's secret sauce, Amara reading in the coffee shop, the sound of waves crashing all around us.
Then I woke.
I was panting and sweating through both my layers. I turned immediately to Amara to see if she was okay. She was asleep on her mattress but goosebumps lined her skin. Her feet had curled into themselves and the blanket had been thrown off. The wind howled through the windows and the infirmary was empty besides for us. I exhaled a sigh of relief.
I bit my lip in thought before removing the blanket from my body. The six cracks became five, four, three, two and then one before I kneeled down beside her. I picked up the blanket from the floor and uncurled her legs, checking her bandages before folding the material around her body.
I heard her murmur in her sleep. Without giving it a thought, I turned to move back to my mattress, but I felt her cold hand close around my wrist.
"Cortland, it's cold." She whispered, her eyes half-lidded. She had only used my name once before and it still held the same vulnerability.
"I'm sorry, Amara..."
"Why, did you get your superpowers and now you control the weather?" she licked her dry lips and my eyes shifted down to the movement. I grimaced and shut my eyes, she was testing me without evening knowing.
"No, but I am sorry there's nothing I can do about it."
"Bring your bed next to mine. You're warm." Her eyes fanned shut and it took me a minute to understand what she had just said. I sweep over her softened features and don't even realize when I walk over to push my mattress next to hers.
When I lay down next to her, she moves to flush her back against my chest. Everything in my anatomy constricts and I breathe in the smell of her hair. I don't know how she expects me to sleep like this, with her this close. But I do. This time, I don't dream.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
