Cooper+S

Worth a Life ** __Ch1__ ** I slowly come to my senses. Damp clothes are clinging to my body, scent of salt in my nostrils, and the sand rubbing roughly on my cheek. A rock digs uncomfortably into my side. My foot has the stabbing sensation with the loss of circulation. I slowly and difficultly make my way to hands and knees, head feeling like it is splitting in two. Feeling like my lungs are filled with stones, I heave and wretch a quart of water. After a moment of painful dry heaving, I flip over onto my rear and grip my head between pruning hands. While I slowly come to my wits, I look down at my asleep foot and see that a rope was intertwined around the pricking appendage. Once I freed my foot and rolled the rope, in such a way one would a hose, I start to view my surroundings through smudged and streaked glasses. I see a dark shape in the distance across the pale sanded beach. As I draw near to the shape it became clearer and saw that it was Ty lying in the sand in an unconscious delirium. He quietly yet viciously mumble, "Over the cliff," and then madly cackles in his slumber. With his twitches I see his mid-length dark hair wave in front of his sun burnt, mischievous face. When I deduce that he was nowhere near the waking process, I quicken the process by giving his incapacitated form a small nudge. Suddenly Ty bolts to a sitting position with a knife in hand. He looks at his hand and sees the knife, then quickly sheaths it with an abashed look on his face. I reach out my hand and helped him to his feet. After a few minutes of gathering our bearings, we look around and see footprints leading off into the forest. Midway on our walk to the forest we hear a great rumble in the sky. We both look up and stare wide eyed at the dark storm clouds above, then seconds later the rain came, if you could call it that. It is was more like a torrential downpour reserved for tropical rainforests. We both begin to sprint across the beach often stumbling and on more than one occasion almost falling to our faces. As we draw near the tree line, I see the massive number of the trees that fill my eyesight. Thousands upon thousands of trees stood, branches sagging in accordance to the rain soaked, heart shaped leaves weighting them down. The floor of the forest was a mess of creepers, leaves, rotting vegetation, and more often than not crawling with insects. At least it was dryer than the open beach. We stumble along under the forest canopy, the bare skin showing being scratched on thorn bushes and trailing branches. We fall exhaustedly, leaning against the rough trunks of a couple of nearby trees. Through gasping breaths I asked Ty, "How you doing?" Between his huffing and puffing I hear the answer, " Fine.. just great." After the few moments we took to gather our breath back, we both stand up and carefully observe our surroundings. Looking down at the underbrush, I saw a trail through the crud, an area that seemed to have been travelled through. I pointed out my observations to Ty, and we both agreed to follow the tracks and see what this path would carry us to. Over the next, I would say, half an hour to an hour we follow the trail. During this whole adventure the rain dully thrummed overhead. After this estimated time period the precipitation began to give. To our complete and utter surprise when the clouds begin to diverge, we see the stars and the moon. Although this may not seem like anything special, the galactic bodies are more vibrant and numerous than could ever be seen in a city. I stare up at the beauty of the stars and feel a peace overcome me even after the surprise, and exhaustion of the busy day. After a moment of staring at the wonders, I look over at Ty and saw him finickly fiddling with his knife. After a moment of his playing with the knife, he looks at me and simply states, "We should get some rest." The second I hear the last word "rest," I feel the strain of the day just fall onto my shoulders. I quickly agree and ease down to the tardy yet soft forest floor. I took the rope I have around my shoulder and put it under my head as a pillow. In a few short minutes I have fallen into slumber. My dreams return back to the crash. I stand at the bow of the ship staring at the strange island in the distance. I have noticed that my foot had been caught in a rope and bend down to untangle the annoyance. Suddenly I hear a great tearing and am thrown into the water. I turn back and see the ship torn and wrecked. I spend many arduous moments swimming towards the shore. Finally after the immense effort of my escape I reach the shore and passed out. ** __Ch 2__ ** I awake early with a stiff neck fondly remembering and wishing I had my soft pillow from home. Slowly rising and rubbing the sleep from my eyes I look over at where Ty was sleeping before. He sat carving a piece of wood with his knife and mumbling under his breath. When he saw that I was looking at him he sheaths the knife and gives me a smile that shows to many teeth. I shake my head disconcertingly and get to my feet. "we should keep going," I say and after a couple of minutes we head back on the trail with the rain closely following. About twenty minutes later we had been following the trail when we hear a rustle around the bend. Slowly creeping around the corner we see a blue mass there, glistening in the rain. I hear Ty yell out, " Who is that there." From under the, now that I was closer I can see it was a tarp, issues forth a scream. After a moment the forms of Samantha and Dalpreet slip out from underneath the quivering tarp. Dalpreet gladly says, "Thank god your both alive," Ty glowers at them, playing with his knife and responds, " I see you guys left without looking for us." The girls just shake their heads and do not pay him any heed. We begin to talk and they tell me of how they had gotten into our boat's life raft and of how when they had landed they headed into the forest to get supplies. Unconscious me and Ty had lain there for half a day and from what Samantha and Dalpreet had said it had rained on and off that whole time. Throughout their whole conversation Ty kept muttering under his breath about being "left behind" and glowers at the girls while fiddling with his knife. Stomach growling I ask the girls, "Have you guys had any food?" Replying Samantha says, " We had a bit of fruit from that tree there. They're alright," while pointing at a nearby tree. I reach up and pluck four relatively ripe looking things that resemble a mixture between an apple and a banana. Taking one for myself I throw one to each of my one of my companions. I bite through the tough waxy skin, and taste juicy flesh tear off into mouth like a mixture between an orange and a lemon. Does not taste as good as a burger from home. I shrug my shoulders and continue to devour the stomach filling meal. After finishing our "breakfast" we decide that we should bring more of the "banaples" with us, lest we get hungry. Folding the tarp into a relatively satchel, like object we fill it with the fruit and I hold onto the blue, damp mass. Wishing I had one of my backpacks from school, we begin to, once again trek our way through the forest, opposite direction of our landing. Ty and I step away from the three walled blue roofed structure. A lean-to. At least that's what it is supposed to be. We look over at the next structure, that looks relatively the same. One for the guys and one for the girls. At least they will help keep the rain off. I lay down in one while a drip of rain annoyingly plucks repeatedly onto my face. I wish I was at home lying on my soft, dry, warm bed. I crawl out from underneath the shelter and head out of the small copse of trees they were set up in. I saw Ty standing before the cliff absently the knife in his hand. I still am not comfortable with how attached Ty has become towards the knife. When I have asked to borrow the knife to cut the tarp for the shelters, he overreacted and would ask why I, "Wanted the it so badly." He spends most of his time holding the knife and I have heard him once croon to the knife. Life has never been this weird back home. Ty was not like this before either. when we had went to school together he had been a funny guy, now he was weird and a kind of scary guy. I go and stand besides Ty. I look off into the setting sun, little caring for it's beauty. I know that I will have many more to see. ** __Ch 3__ ** One arm over Samantha's shoulder, and one arm over mine we drag the limp figure between us. Dead weight. No, not dead, just unconscious, but they are losing startling amount of blood from a cut on their fore-head. Skin waxen and pale compared to usual, we drag the incapacitated form between us and head towards shelter. As we stumble into the copse of trees, sunlight filters throughout the canopy painting a vibrant, full of life image ironically contrasting our companion's injured state. We gently lay them on a mattress of leaves. Samantha grabs the first aid kit and begins to clean and bandage the gouge. I step out from under the shelter and feel like I am being watched. I turn around and see Ty peeling a piece of fruit and calculatingly, Ty is eyeing me. A branch had broken and fallen on Dalpreet, injuring her. As Samantha and I had hoisted up Dalpreet, I had scanned the fallen branch, and had seen that the broken off edge was too straight to have naturally happened. It must have been caused by a bladed object. I glance at Ty's hip. To the knife. I had kept my observations from Samantha, fearing prosecution toward Ty. Still, if Ty had done this act in hopes of injuring one of us I would have to deal with him. Oh God, what am I thinking, "how to deal with him?" Back home I was meek and would never think that, yet now I am changed. I run my hand through my hair and sigh. What shall I do? Ty is going insane, but I do not want him to get hurt. A couple of days ago, Ty and Dalpreet had and argument about the knife. How he would not let anyone use it, even for important things. Ty's paranoia is getting out of control; first he would just keep the knife hidden, but now he's trying to get rid of others. I just wish I was home. Simple, easy, nice, and safe. Home. Home, how I truly wish to have that. More then just a shelter, a place of comfort. Home; a place of living life with family, not surviving with friends who are not themselves. Home, a place where a knife, is not worth a life. I am a poet and I do not even Know it. Oh God, now I am thinking in rhymes and clichés. I do not know how much of this I can handle. All I do is survive. There is no fun. even survival is not exciting anymore. All it is now is dreary days of the same routine: sleep, make fire, collect food, eat, collect firewood, stoke fire, and sleep some more. There is only so long a person can sleep under a crappy lean-to till they get tired of it; that length of time is one night. After how long ,I do not know, I am starting to loath the colour blue. We need to be rescued soon. I remember a couple of weeks ago we tried to go and collect provisions from the crashed ship. That was a disaster. I was surprised we only made it out with a few scratches. We could have easily been seriously injured or even worse, been killed. Yet the way I have been feeling, maybe it would have been better to have been thrashed against the rocks, and put out of my sorrow. Oh well. I rub my hands in front smoky fire. I grab a bucket full of water and head towards Ty. Time for a confrontation. I offer Ty a drink of water. He takes the bucket, silently takes a drink, and hands it back. I look him in the eyes, those bloodshot and calculating eyes, and calmly ask, "That was very strange hoe that branch fell on Dalpreet's head, do you not think?" Looking at me with an almost savage stare; he gave a twitch of his shoulders, a shrug. "Accidents happen," he replies, with a smile. A smile that hides amusement. I turn my back to Ty, take off my glasses, rub my eyes, sigh, and put them back on to the bridge of my nose. When I turn back to Ty, I see him idly fingering the hilt of his knife at his side. Again I look him in the eyes and state, "I know what you did Ty; You cut the branch so it would fall on Dalpreet." That's when he starts giving me a funny look. He slashes out at me suddenly. I jump back but I still take a slash on the arm. As my blood flows out of my wound, and drips down the cliff into the frothing water down below, I do not feel pain, I only feel fury fill me. I heft the bucket with all my might, smashing Ty square in the face. I see his nose splatter flat on his face. He stumbles onto the brink of the cliff. Before I get a chance to stop him he falls off the cliff. As he falls I hear mad cackling and three words, "Over the cliff." Over the cliff, he had said the words before. Over the cliff, he knew this would happen? Over the cliff, I had caused this. Over the cliff, those words will haunt me for the rest of my life. Over the cliff.