Rosa+J

= =

= = = ALONE = Rosa Jin - t // o my loving husband //



1: Insel

Cool drops of salty ocean water splashed onto the dark-haired girl’s face as the sound of waves crashing against jagged rocks surrounded her. She lay on the warm sand, broken and collapsed. The blinding glare of the midday sun gleamed against the rippling tide, shooting scattered sparkles across the surface. Blinking and groaning, she lifted her head, gradually taking in her environment. Above, were the fanned out fronds of palm trees, swaying gently from side to side, and to her right was the never-ending carpet of blue. Propping up onto her elbows, the girl blankly acknowledged that her shirt was torn on the side; she had bruises on her knees and right ankle, and several shallow cuts here and there. Despite these minor injuries, everything seemed to be in working order. It was only when she got to her feet that she wondered where she was.

The girl slowly climbed onto a steady rock, being careful not to fall into the deep waters waiting below. In one hand, she held a grey bucket which she had found next to where she’d woken up. In the other was a fragment of her shirt she had pulled off, pressed against a gash she’d found on the left side of her temple. Shading her eyes with the arm holding the bucket, the girl scanned the miniature specks of trees in the distance by the shore. Suddenly, she realized that the specks were almost shifting towards the water. Excited, she lowered herself down to the ground and took off, running in the direction of the moving people.

Around the same time, two boys with black hair found each other at a tide pool. The shorter of the two asked the other, “Where are we?”

“I don’t know. Were we supposed to come here?” the other replied, frowning.

“Obviously not. We wouldn’t have crashed if we had meant to land here. Do you know where the others are?”

“What crash?”

“The plane crash,” the shorter one said, his brows knitted together. “Don’t you remember?”

“What…” the taller boy began, but stopped short, due to the rustling of branches and foliage coming from their right. A strange blonde girl appeared, her jeans ripped at the hems and arms scratched and red. She screwed up her eyes in their direction, as if she were trying to see more clearly. The guys raised their hands, saying hello, but she didn’t seem to notice. As she neared, they could see that her skin was sallow and eyes rimmed red. Her clothes seemed to have a fine coat of white dust in places like the pockets of her jeans and pits on her shirt. The light of recognition passed over the taller one’s face, mixed with a confused expression of uncertainty.

“You’re Michaela, right?” he asked. “You’re the charity person, aren’t you?” She replied, “It’s McCall actually, and yeah I’m one of the organizers of this missions trip. Do you know where we are?” She gave them a quizzical look. The two shook their heads in sync.

“This is Zhi and I’m Jason,” the shorter one said as they shook hands with her. “Have you seen any others from the flight?”

She declined, explaining how she had been around the island searching, “All I found were a couple of ripped plastic bags, and these,” she said, holding out her hands to reveal a folded Swiss Army pocketknife and a small, cracked hand-mirror, the plastic handle covered in painted roses. The group agreed that these objects must have washed up onshore, which brought the topic of their landing to attention. McCall and the boys puzzled over the possibilities, until the sun approached the water, its warm light growing as it traveled closer to the surface of the ocean.

* * *

The floor trembled. Rosa’s eyes snapped open from the state of semi-sleep she had just been on the verge of entering. The whites of her eyes flashed as she looked around to see if anyone else had felt the turbulence, but none of the other passengers seemed to even be awake. She was going over this in her head - when there was another bump. And another. She was reaching for her seatbelt, but before she could fasten it, a deafening crack sounded. The wind was screaming past her ears, roaring, violent, and consuming every bit of assured safety she had ever felt. The bags on the floor shot up, smashing into the ceiling. She couldn’t think, she couldn’t blink, she couldn’t even breathe. With the wind came the freezing rain, like shrapnel, cutting their faces as they plummeted down from the sky. Rosa could feel the last drops of blood draining from her face as she was thrown around the cabin. Shards of glass broke away and rocketed towards her, but by then, she was already gone.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">* * *

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">She was definitely lost. Gingerly, she stepped over a fallen tree, pushing aside the leafy green and knotted tangles from her face. In the distance, the shrill cry of a bird sounded, long and piercing. Swiveling around from where she stood, nothing was visible, save for the brilliant colours of the flowers, flashing and hypnotic, as they waved and turned in the breeze. She continued walking, stopping every now and again to rub her foot on a rock or a log, and to massage her thumb which had swollen and turned a fleshy pink from smashing it against the mountain on her was down. Was she alone? she wondered, battling through the undergrowth and hordes of insects buzzing and twitching in clusters. Like fruit flies, but probably more dangerous. She glanced up at the tall treetops, where birds flitted around and creatures of all sorts dwelled, their homes and neighbourhoods green and springy. Bringing her head back down, she awkwardly hop-stepped over a pool of mud glistening in the rays of the sun. While confused and a little scared, she had to admit, this was kind of cool.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">When she looked forward again, a flash of bright blue startled her. She leaned forward, knees resting on a low boulder, the bucket still swinging from the momentum of her traipse through the forest. Was that the sky? Then it shimmered. All of a sudden, she could feel the spray of the ocean on her face. The smell of tangy, sour saltwater filled her nostrils. She pushed on, determined to reach the shore.



<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif'; font-size: 24pt; line-height: 115%;">2: Trouble in Paradise

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">“So where do you think we are?” Rosa asked the group, as the fire merrily crackled. It sent fierce red-hot sparks twisting and writhing into the clear night sky. The flames fluttered all about, casting peculiar shadows upon the bushes to her right. She had eventually fought her way down the mountainside and through the chaos of these shrubs and trees and leaves, finding herself back at the shore. After a couple of hours, although they had felt like days, she discovered the trio of survivors gathered around a small pile of tree branches. Their efforts to create fire would have been in vain, had she not replaced the thick, bumbling logs with delicate fragments of grass and tinder. Using the mirror McCall had found earlier, they grasped the dim, dying rays of the setting sun just in time, and finally got the dry shards of wood to smoke, glow, then light on fire, which then escalated into the dancing orange and yellow flower which they now surrounded.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">“Well…” Zhi puzzled, “We hit turbulence maybe two hours after take-off, right?” He looked to the others, but seemed to be talking to no one in particular. He chewed on his lip, thinking furiously, and then got to his feet, snatching up a short piece of driftwood from the ground. The other three sat back lazily and watched him out of half-hearted interest, as he carved a series of lines and arrows, a map, in the powdery sand, circling around and adding points to his diagram, occasionally muttering inaudible words to himself.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">“How are we going to get out of here? I’ve got midterms in less than a week that I can’t miss,” McCall picked at the hem of her pants as she said this, trying to get the dusty sand out of the folded cuff. She was the most talkative of the four, often blurting things out as if she didn’t realize she had said them out loud. Her brown hair stuck out in all directions, her collared shirt was now crinkled like a plastic bag (due to being tossed about by the ocean) and her feet were bare and dry, perched on a thick branch which sat just inches from the glowing fire. Rosa looked at her curiously, trying to see if she was being serious. After all, they had just survived what could have been a fatal plane crash. Disbelieving, Rosa bit her tongue and averted her eyes to the ground, but Jason apparently was thinking the same thing.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">“Why does that even matter? We could’ve died, you know that? We’re lucky we landed in the water. We’re lucky we didn’t crack our heads open on the rocks. We’re lucky we made it alive! You say some of the most unnecessary shit sometimes McCall!” Jason spat at her, his words like arrows. It seemed kind of harsh to Rosa, but she said nothing. McCall didn’t seem to even notice his mini-tirade towards her, just rolling her eyes and continuing on, “I guess I could miss the first one. It’s just German. But I definitely have to be back on the seventh, because that’s Biology, and my teacher would have a fit.” Jason gaped at her, and then shook his head, like he was trying to clear his head of frustration.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">“Why don’t we figure that out later,” Rosa spoke up, in an obvious attempt to avoid the awkward moment of silence, “since we’re obviously not getting home tonight. We should set up our sleeping arrangements.”

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">“We could sleep on the sand, couldn’t we?” McCall suggested.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">“What if it rains?”

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">“Then we’re screwed.”

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">“No wait, we can use that tarp we found!” Jason exclaimed, clearly in a better mood for vocalizing his anger. “Are there any holes in it?” McCall and Rosa each took an end and spread it out on the ground. They felt it over, as the light from the fire would not suffice; after several minutes, they confirmed that it did not. “Then it’s settled, we can prop it up like a fort and sleep under there.”

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">“Under where?” McCall sniggered at her own joke. Jason ignored this and opened his mouth to talk to Rosa, but Zhi, apparently done with his map, came over and plopped down next to McCall to tell them what he had just figured out.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">“Okay, so since we left San Miguel for Kabala, we had to have been moving in a semi-northeast direction,” he explained. “But we actually crashed about four hours, give or take maybe half an hour, after departure.”

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">“How -” Jason tried to interrupt, but was waved away by Zhi.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">“And so, although I can’t be completely sure, I think that we might possibly be just south of, or in-” he paused, “-the Bermuda Triangle.” They all frowned at him, scrutinizing with their stares. Then all at once, they began talking, protesting, saying it was impossible, that the myth about the infamous Bermuda triangle wasn’t even true, but Zhi casually stopped all three of them, saying, “Well if you have any better ideas as to where in the world we might be, speak up.” The silence stood still among the four kids.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">“Whatever. Either way, we’re lost, and it sucks.” McCall muttered.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">The group unhappily left the fireside and quickly got to work, looking for sturdy logs or rocks to support their fort. The air was now chill and it bit down hard on their toes and fingers, making all four of them work faster, only stopping to rub their hands together or to reach down and massage the icicles at the ends of their feet. Gradually the tent took shape, the corners and edges of the tarp weighed down by boulders; the center standing erect with the assistance of a skinny tree they had uprooted from the ground. To use in place of sheets, McCall, Rosa, Jason, and Zhi each collected handfuls of dry leaves and smoothed them out to fit the perimeter of their tent. When all this had been done, they finally crawled into the tent and exhausted, drifted off.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">* * * <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">Every morning, Rosa shuffled words like ‘S.O.S’ and ‘HELP’ into the sand with her feet, but no one came to save them. After their breakfast of hard, tasteless fruit and nearly inedible nuts, McCall would add a stone to the growing collection of small rocks neatly placed in clusters of five. These marked the time that they had spent there. The days, uneventful and excruciatingly slow, passed in slow motion. They mulled around, sitting about aimlessly and talking about nothing. Sometimes McCall and Rosa would stroll along the beach, looking for pretty seashells or rocks, but that soon lost its sparkle, along with diving off the mountain, rock climbing, and fishing. Now, they only swam when they needed to bathe, only fished for food, and only climbed to get fruit from the trees. Their faces were hollow, skin browned and dry from constant exposure to the piercing sun. Rosa found her lips to be cracked and flaky, but she couldn’t stop herself from running her tongue over them. Ultimately, this had no effect, beneficial or harmful, since her saliva was just as parched. Instead, it accumulated at the corners of her mouth and drove her wild.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">While the boys were fishing one afternoon, McCall and Rosa prepared the fire. Two thick branches with Y-shaped joints at the top were wedged between rocks on opposite sides of the fire, with a third, longer stick settled on top, creating a roasting spit.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">“I’m sick of fish,” McCall complained as she whittled and twisted her piece of driftwood into the thick bark she held with her toes. Paying no attention, Rosa dug her piece harder into the bark that she too held down with her feet. “Didn’t you hear me? I’m sick of fish. It tastes terrible, it smells awful and we have it every night. Aren’t you tired of having it every single night?”

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">“Yeah. I’m tired,” sighed Rosa.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">“And how come we never go get the fish? Why are we always stuck making the fire?” McCall slammed her chunks of wood at the ground, like it was their fault. The pieces of bark just lay there. “I hate this! I want to go home! There’s no use trying to make this bloody fire! There’s no point trying to stay alive on this God awful island, with three brainless kids who can’t do anything!” She kicked mercilessly at the tent of tinder, sending everything flying. Chips snapped and spat into the air, landing on their feet and bare arms.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">“McCall! Stop it!” cried Rosa, “All you do is complain, complain, complain, but you’re not any better than the rest of us. So shut up and help me make this fire, or leave!” Glaring at each other with the dark wind howling around their ears, they stood still in the hot tension.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">“Fine.” And with that, she turned and marched away. Good riddance flashed through Rosa’s mind. Watching McCall enter the forest through the corner of her eye, Rosa knew she should have stopped her friend and apologized, but the fire inside her had been unclipped of its chain. It was already too late. The forest swallowed her whole, and after that, Rosa could no longer see anything in the hypnotic darkness. Rubbing her eyes in fatigue, she continued rubbing her sticks together until a steady flame burned before her. Despite the warm fire, she shivered, waiting for the boys to return with dinner. Rosa sat and sat. And waited and waited. And waited. Finally, she saw in the distance, by the flickering light of the water, a shadow emerging from the black. But in the midst of her relief, she realized that where there should have two, only one shadow approached.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">“Where’s Jason?” Rosa frowned at him. Zhi, not meeting her eyes, grumbled out a story about how they caught three fish, but Jason was fooling around and pushed them over the edge of the rock with his heel, “…So I got mad at him, and we got into a fight. Then he got really huffy and high on his horse and ran away,” finished Zhi.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">“So you chased him away? That’s real mature Zhi,” Rosa replied sarcastically. “It’s just us here, we should be sticking together, not tearing each other apart.”

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">“Oh shut up. And where’s McCall anyway?”

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">“Don’t tell me to shut up!” They were shouting now, with Zhi standing three feet away, halted from his walk over.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">“Where is she?” he repeated. Rosa muttered something incomprehensible, to which Zhi replied with a snarky comment on how Rosa was just a hypocrite. Calling names, they continued bickering back and forth, the fish unattended and wasted on the sidelines. When at last they were tired of fighting, Rosa shuffled back to the tent. Once again, she considered apologizing, but when Zhi lay down on his side of leaves, she said nothing.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">The glow of the rising sun filtered through the tent’s openings as dawn slowly crept over their end of the earth. A sliver of light fell upon Rosa’s right eyelid, flickering and rolling, weaving in and out of her eyelashes. She awoke with a twitch. First, she opened her left eye. Then her right. She rolled over and gradually came to her senses. When she saw that the ground beside her lay empty without a tenant, she sat up, fully awake. Stepping outside, she took in her surroundings, searching for her friend, but he was nowhere to be seen.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">Alone. She was all alone. Why did she always find herself alone? Pushing people away had always been a forte of hers, but this was too much. Plus, the fact that she was stranded on a deserted island just had to be the cherry on top. She tried to imagine where someone might choose to go to be alone on this island, but the choices were endless, and it left her with no option but to trek the perimeter of the place. If she didn’t find one of them, how would she survive? Briefly, she wondered if they were still alive, but immediately shoved the unpleasant, dirty thought out of her mind. And so she began her expedition to find the others, although it depressed her that the search party consisted of just one. Nevertheless, she marched on, hopes high and fingers crossed.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">The sun floated just above the water’s glassy surface, emitting less and less light with every bob into the horizon. Rosa took a deep breath, resting her hand on the weathered trunk of a slim tree and leaning her worn out body into the sturdy shaft. Continuously beating and thrashing her way through the undergrowth and tangled greenery had depleted all of her energy; furthermore, the search had been tragically unsuccessful. She was tired, starving, and in desperate need of a long drink of fresh water. She dragged her throbbing feet across the sand to the vacant fire pit and collapsed on her ankles. Practiced at creating fire now, she struck up a flame promptly, throwing leaves and debris from previous fires that could be of use into the circle of stones surrounding the blaze. She had nothing to cook, but for the moment, the familiar affection of the burning flare was enough to last her the night.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">A shadow unexpectedly flicked across her eye. She tucked the loose lock of dark and silvery brown hair behind her ear unconsciously. The shadow swooped across her face again. Rosa felt to see that she had, in fact, moved her hair, and not just imagined doing so. It sat behind the curve of her ear. Yet again, the fleeting shape crossed her eye. She stole a glance to the side from which it came from. An unrecognizable form swayed in the air, as if it was attached to the topmost branch of the tree next to it. Narrowing her eyes, she followed the outline of the object swinging to and fro. As she tilted her body in that direction in order to get a better look, her left heel gently cuffed the twig at the edge of the fire. Embers burst into the air, swirling higher and higher towards the sky. This illuminated the object she was staring at for a split second, but that was enough for her to see what swung from the tree. A high-pitched, terrifying scream escaped her lips when she saw the jet-black head of hair at the end of a thick rope. Jason’s lifeless body hung in between the leaves and twigs, rocking back and forth in the breeze. Frightened tears sprung to her hot eyes, and she sat there, eyes shut tight, frozen in horror.



<span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua','serif'; font-size: 24pt; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">3: Angels and Demons

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">Hot sparks of pink and yellow and blue erupted on the outskirts of the trembling darkness. No matter which way she looked, the hypnotic colours dodged her gaze, scurrying their way out of the frame. A ball of heat grew and grew from the centre of her forehead, pulsating and slightly painful, but she refused to loosen the twisted knot of muscle gathered between her eyes.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">A chill gust of wind sifted and penetrated its way through the openings of her shirt, weaving in and out of the threads and winding around her body, not stopping until it reached in, took hold of her core, and scathed her bones. Despite the vicious breeze, she dared not open her eyes. Wanting to cry, wanting to scream, wanting to run. Instead, she brought up her knees to her chin, eyelids still firmly clamped, and wrapped her arms around herself. It was like this that she began to rock back and forth. Her toes extended with each push, and crumpled with every landing. Push, pull, push, pull. Back and forth, she kept blindly bouncing to this steady rhythm. The length of time that passed, as she sat curled up like this, could have been hours, or days, or maybe even months, but she couldn’t push herself to open them, not even a little; then a horrifying thought crossed her mind.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">What if they were still out there? Immediately, she had considered this to be an act of desperation, that Jason had grown impatient with himself, that he had committed suicide. But could this be the work of another’s hands? Who else was on this island, other than the four of them? What if it had been McCall or Zhi? This thought startled her out of her reverie. She had to open her eyes. How could you survive if you didn’t stay aware of your surroundings? While this was true, the enormous horror, seeing the death of her friend again, gripped her tightly around the middle. She couldn’t do it. But how else would she survive? Using all of her power and will, she steeled herself to undo the death grip that she held her eyelids in.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">They snapped open. Stars glittered as they grew accustomed to the harsh light of the flame burning before her. Heart pounding, Rosa flashed her deep brown eyes in the direction of her friend. THUD. She felt her heart slam full force into her chest. Her head seemed to fill with a thick fluid, and the ground began to tilt and shift as she stared. Now looking more specifically at each of the trees’ branches in that area, her pupils wildly darted back and forth, searching for a sign of life. Only the still haunted air of silence hung between the shadowed leaves and branches. Terrified and unbelievably confused, she didn’t know what to do with herself. It was much too dark to go searching for McCall and Zhi again. Besides, what if it had been one of them? What if McCall or Zhi had committed this murder? If it had even happened, that is. Had she imagined it? Rosa considered this, chewing on the inside of her cheek; but no, she had definitely seen Jason there. Maybe the rope had snapped, she suggested to herself.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">Although the mere idea of looking for a corpse in the dark forest chilled her to the bone (especially after witnessing what she just had), Rosa cautiously set off in the direction of where he had to have fallen. Halfway through her tiptoe towards the edge of the trees, she realized that without a source of light, finding a body in this mask of black would be excruciatingly difficult, if not impossible. Also, what would she do with the body once she did find it? Torn between good sense and her desire to determine the presence of her sanity, Rosa hesitated, feet planted firmly on the ground. Her conscience easily won the argument, and so, with a shaking heart, she trudged her cold feet back to the tent.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">With the dawn came the birds, chirping and tweeting noisily outside. The rhythmic hull of the tide rolling back and forth on the sand filled Rosa’s ears as she lay in her bed of dead leaves. Groggily, she opened her eyes and rolled over onto her back with a thump. With her left hand, she pushed back her fringe that had fallen across her eyes, and then rested the back of her forearm on her forehead. Wild birds chattered away, the young with their high-pitched shrills competing with the voices of others, creating a chaotic cacophony of sounds.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">Rosa was exhausted. She hadn’t had a proper sleep in days, she could almost feel the grime soaking into her pores, and her clothes were fraying at the hems, crusty with dirt and oil. Lank was her hair, greasy from the roots to the ends of the shaft, and disgustingly long. She could feel the hard, malnourished roundness of her stomach, and the peeling skin of her cheeks and shoulders. Slowly, she pulled herself together, and with both elbows, shifted awkwardly until she was sitting upright, nearly jumping out her skin at the sight of McCall braiding her hair next to her.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">“McCall?! Where have you been? What are you doing here? Have you seen Zhi?” Rosa peppered her questions at McCall, who sat, with an elastic in her mouth, stunned and dumbfounded at the sudden interrogation. She finished looping the elastic around the tuft of blonde hair at the end of the braid, then replied, “I’ve been here. I’m sitting here now. And no I haven’t. Where is he?” Rosa explained that she hadn’t seen him in days, and that she had assumed they had been together. McCall denied this, shrugging carelessly.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">“Well that’s weird, I guess he’s still out there then. Hopefully he’s alright. Breakfast?” They pushed back the flapping tarp at the entrance to their fort and stepped out into the gleaming sun’s golden rays. The faded white full moon was still visible, bright against the clear blue of the morning sky. <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">Empty coconut shells and the rinds of old fruit littered the beach around their settlement. Rosa found an unopened coconut and began peeling back the hairy brown exterior. As she pulled the outer layers and neared the center of the fruit, she noticed the vivid greens and gorgeous plumage of the treetops, then suddenly jerked her gaze back at the trees. Where…Was...It? Anger boiled and rumbled, swirling and frothing, spitting-hot and splashing against her insides. How could they even hope to get off this vile island if the gods didn’t receive a gift? Had the rope snapped? She considered it, but no, it had been thick and strong when she’d tied the knots. What were they going to do?

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">Swiveling around ferociously, she spied McCall reaching for the bucket of old fish, not ten yards away. Silent as a wildcat slinking to prey, she stealthily crept in McCall’s direction, snatching the broken knife from beside the fire. Raw hatred soared through her veins, destroying and stamping out any sort of remorse she had felt the night before, after Jason had stopped flailing. McCall looked up, her eyes immediately zoning in on the hand that held the dagger. Caught off guard, her eyes widened, and McCall stumbled over her words and her feet as she retreated back toward the water. She tried, again and again, to distract Rosa with words of almost consolation, apologizing for nothing, telling her to put the knife down, but Rosa paid no heed to the unconvincing blather coming out of the stupid girl’s mouth. She advanced towards her, a cold, hard glint in her eye. All of a sudden, she charged, full force, and then, before she could even raise her arms in defense, Rosa swung the jagged point down, straight into the girl’s chest. The child’s blood-curling scream reverberated into the still atmosphere as her angry, deep red blood spurted out of the slit from which the knife protruded. She winced, as Rosa grabbed and pulled it back out, hacking up wet and irregular coughs. She doubled over and spit out mouthful after mouthful of vicious red fluid, then fell forward onto her knees, heaving and breathing heavily.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">Watching the girl wrack up streams of blood, punctuated by nearly inaudible gasps of air intake, Rosa observed the bubbles forming. Inside, however, she felt nothing. She stood on all fours now, breaths becoming shallower and shorter. The wet sand beneath her had turned a dark, sinister scarlet, and the tide carried out tinted pink water every time, each swell more concentrated in colour than the last.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">Blinking, Rosa watched in horror. McCall lay on her shins and elbows, throwing up more and more blood.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">“McCall! What happened?!” she cried, dropping to her hands and knees as well. Halfway through a deep breath, McCall looked up at Rosa, her expression full of fear, pain, and disbelieving disgust.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">“What’s – wrong – with you?” she gasped. “You – demented – piece of-,” she heaved, overcome with another raw cough. Her blonde hair pressed against her skin, stuck to her face and neck by a solution of ocean water, sweat, and blood. Instantly, rage blocked out all other emotions within Rosa, and she brought down the dagger once again, striking a final blow into the weak, useless human. The girl collapsed completely, and less than a minute later, the shallow breathing subsided, finally dying out into silence.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif; font-size: 90%;">Aghast, Rosa stared at her hands, filthy with crime, and tainted with evil. Her friend lay spread-eagle on her stomach on the sand, surrounded by her rich and superfluous blood, dead. What had she done? Guilt swirled about inside her head, dizzying and dreadful, until at last, she raised her knife with both hands, and struck the blade deep into the center of her midsection. A pain like no other rushed in and filled all of her senses, muting them out. Moments later, the salty, metallic waves of her own blood poured into her mouth and coated her tongue, her eyes swerving in and out of focus, and in one last lame attempt, she sucked in as much oxygen she could. Head lolling, she fell forward, narrowly missing McCall. One by one, her breaths evaporated into the air, as she lay next to her friend, broken. The last thing on her mind was the image of the approaching figure in the distance, a tall boy with black hair.