Five

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I was running and my dad was chasing me. The soft grass in my grandmother's yard squished underfoot and I was a child again, laughing. My mother was on the porch with a pitcher of iced tea. I looked back to see how close my father was to catching me, and he was gone. Panicking, I looked to the porch for my mother, who had disappeared in the couple of seconds I had redirected my gaze. I sat down in the grass, breathing heavily. I whispered a soft chorus to myself.

"I'm okay. I'm gonna be okay. I'm okay."

"Emily."

"I'm gonna be okay."

"Emily!"

"I'm okay."

"Hey! Emily!"

I was being shaken awake.

I opened my eyes to see Trip standing over me. His hands were on my shoulders.

"What?" I asked groggily. "What time is it?"

He laughed. "Does it matter? Man, you were out like a light. Thought you said you were a light sleeper?"

"Yeah, well," I stood. "That's under the right circumstances. Why did you wake me?"

"Would you rather live one more day in comfort or a day and a half being cold instead?"

"What?"

"I found a way to divert the power from the heaters to make the air-recyclers last longer."

"Well... happy to spend another half of a day with you, Charles," I crossed my arms over my chest.

"You were having a bad dream," he noted.

"How could you tell?"

"You were doing that thing that you did on the bridge when things went wrong. You know, when you were younger. You'd sit there and say the same thing over and over, 'I'm o--'"

"Yes, I was having a bad dream," I cut him off. "Thank you for waking me up."

He looked kind of dissatisfied with the conversation, like he wanted to know more, but he just mumbled, "You're welcome."

---

We sat shoulder-to-shoulder on the ground, our teeth chattering and our arms crossed in an attempt to keep warm.

"I'm start-t-ting to r-regret my decision," I looked over at him.

"I'm starting t-to regret l-letting you m-m-make the decision," he pulled his arms inside his uniform.

"Do we have any f-food left?" I looked towards the food re-sequencer.

"N-no," he shook his head.

"Do we have w-water?" I asked, licking my dehydrated lips.

"No, only the bourbon that M-Malcolm left here aft-ter... something," he muttered.

It seemed to only be getting colder, our minds getting harder and harder to organize as it did.

I hadn't had anything to drink in two days. Something my father had told me came to mind. The rule of three.

Three minutes without oxygen, three hours without shelter in harsh environment, three days without water, and three weeks without food.

I only had about half a day left, but I supposed it was better than the pounding in my head and the nausea caused by dehydration.

"G-give it to me," I made grabby hands.

He looked at me with wide eyes.

"You're only ei-eighteen," he managed.

"Yeah, and I'm n-not gonna die that age," I grabbed his sleeve weakly. "Give me the b-bourbon."

He reached for it and handed it to me hesitantly.

I took a swig and winced. "That is not good." I said, but it filled me with a warmth in my chest. The burning in my throat was a nice change from the cold.

"Your first drink and you're f-freezing to death with your f-father nowhere to be seen," he laughed bitterly. "Is it all you im-magined?"

"I d-didn't plan on even having a first drink. My brother's father-in-law was a drunk and I didn't want to ever be like him," I cleared my throat before taking another swig.

"Take it easy!" he exclaimed as I started coughing.

"I'm thirsty," I licked my dry lips, but there was no moisture to be heard of.

"I'm sorry, if I could help, I..." he trailed off when he saw my head drooping. "Hey," he smacked my cheek lightly. I didn't open my eyes. "Hey!" he shook me, though it wasn't very rough. A lot of his strength was diminished from lack of food and water, too. "You're f-freezing, if you go to sleep, you might not wake up. I p-promised your father I would protect you."

He pulled me closer to him, holding me in his arms. If I wasn't freezing to death, I would be relishing the moment. He rubbed his hands up and down my arms, trying to create friction to warm me, but his hands were colder than I was.

"You have t-to stay awake," he mumbled.

I opened my eyes, getting a sudden sense of deja vu. I remembered being on an ambulance, my mother standing over me and trying to keep me awake. We were leaving my brother's birthday party at the park. I had fallen off of the top of the monkey bars and hit my head. I had stopped breathing three times. My mother later told me that, several times, she thought she'd lost me.

"Mama, I just want to sleep. I'll feel so much better if I can just sleep."

"I know, baby, but if you go to sleep you might not wake up again. I need you to stay awake for me, okay?"

I closed my eyes, and yet again, she shook me awake.

"I'm just so tired..." I had whispered.

I started laughing.

He looked over at me. "What?"

I shook my head and said in a whisper that I myself could barely hear, "I'll see her soon..."

"What? Emily, what are you talking about? Emily?" he started shaking me, but I was already under. I was freezing, I was intoxicated, and I was miserable. I just wanted to sleep, no matter the cost.

"Emily!" I heard him yell my name one last time and wrap his arms tighter around me, as if he could grab me and pull me back to reality. His voice and his arms around me seemed to fade away as I fell farther and farther into sleep.

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