Location:Unknown (Being Rewritten) (Slow Updates)

What if...8...

“I don’t know Liv, I’m not exactly keen on this whole survival thing. Why ask me? Ask Mr. Quentin or something,” I exasperated.

Liv was trying to organize the stuff we found on the beach in the most practical way possible and she wouldn’t cease asking for my opinion.

“Please! you found this cave, established a cleansing area, and discovered a shitload of bananas, hence why we aren’t dead yet. I don't want to be in charge of these suitcases,” she begged.

“Alright fine, I’ll figure this out. Go mark the path to the beach with Tyler.” I finally sucummbed to her plight and went over to the suitcases.

Liv let out a sigh of relief and followed Tyler and Ashlyn, who made a face because i ignored her presence,  out of the cave where they have started clearing a path back to the beach where we all washed out on. The beach turned out to be fairly close now that we knew where was what.

so far, This cave we found three days ago proved to be a good place to stay. Mr. Quentin agreed with me when i said that we should try to make this place our nest. Calling it a home is too permanent, I definitely don’t plan on staying here long.

So far we cleared out any jagged rocks on the floor where we planned to sleep and established the small pool of water encircled by the weird, tall rocks as the bathroom. But it was whole heartedly agreed on that we took our business at the very far side of the pool away from the bathing area where some weeds grew. Way to fertilize the soil, props to us.

Anyway, i started focusing on my task. Over the course of the last 3 days we found another 6 suitcases washing up on the beach. We’ve been there on the hope that we could see a ship in the distance. no such luck.

Now with a total of 11 suitcases, we had more blankets, towels, shampoo and clothes. Liv was too anxiety ridden to sort them out so it was up to me. Again.

I decided to divide each suitcase into a category and then dumped everything out from each one. All the camping gear was left out for craig or Mr. QUentin to come back and assemble. I found some Bowls and utensils. Some kids packed heavy for the supposed camping trip. Something they will never experience. Its so sad to think that so many of my friends died. i wiped stray tears away. All their belongings were bringing back the harsh realities of the world. How you can be alive one second, then gone the next.

“Are you okay? Hey, no, stop, don’t do that. please” I hear Craig’s voice behind me and felt his hand on my shoulder. he must have noticed the stray tears. i wanted to hold in my sadness, i didn’t want to burden anyone with my feelings of desolation but Craig was always an understanding guy. He was sincere and loyal and so i allowed myself to cry for a bit. I’ve been pushing away these feelings for the sake of my fellow survivors but now wheeling into Craigs arms, i felt like a child again.

i Sobbed for god knows how long and he stayed there with me, silently accepting the soaking of my tears in this shirt collar. He patted my head gently and moved the stray hair away from my blotchy face.

When my sobs finally subsided, he said “We’ve all been through so much these past few days but I want you to know that together we can survive it” and even if i was skeptical, i chose to believe him. I nodded.

He stood up and i followed, my hands in his. “Thanks so much, for you know, that awkward display of emotional leakage,” i spoke.

“Not even a problem, i was so close to sharing some of my own manly tears but i felt like that should be saved for when i want to really impress you” he went back to being the jokester he is.

“Oh yeah, you figured out my weakness, manly tears,” I teased and giggled. He winked.

I took a moment to appraise him. he was very good looking. Tall with light brown hair and a defined pectoral. He looked safe and warm and inviting. Oh no, what am i thinking. We are in a damn crisis and all i can do is fantasize of Craig’s Pectorals!