VOLATILE (I) : peter pan ouat

When a Mausoleum Happened

Keaton tells me he can walk into the tent himself, and somehow I find myself letting him go. I am not one to feel attached to things, especially not when these things are as awful as Keaton. All that being said, by not sharing my secret Keaton has saved my life.

On the walk here, I've decided not to forgive him for anything he has done. He is still a vile boy, simply a vile boy who I understand. And a vile boy who I owe my life to.

I consider walking inside the tent to see him, but the sun is no longer in sight. The soft red glow that surrounds the camp, coming off from the flames of the torches, goes out suddenly. It must be very late into the night.

The distance between myself and my tent is barely anything, and it takes me only a few seconds to grab hold of the cloth between my fingers. As I move the sheet that separates me from slumber, I remember that, unfortunately, I have yet to tell Alex and Harry of our little adventure tomorrow.

The adventure that will hopefully result in one death, if I'm optimistic. My personal goal is to not die, which seems to be my goal all of the time.

I groan, stepping backwards and heading towards their tent. The worn tarp scratches against my fingers. A shaky breath and I let the cloth fall, turning my back to the tent.

"We've got to keep our heads." The voice is Alex's.

"I'm not panicking." Harry's voice is louder than usual. "This is calm."

"I've known you for nearly a decade." He says. "This is you panicking. Next you'll go numb, and you'll stop talking."

Harry doesn't answer.

I take a step forward, then take a step back. This can't wait until morning.

I reach for the cloth again.

"I won't go numb." He says. "Not while they're still alive."

The sheet slips from my fingers, and I sit down at this. Not so much out of shock, but so that my silhouette doesn't show through the flimsy sheet.

If I even have a shadow in the dark.

"They aren't going to die." Alex argues.

"Four seizures." Harry says. "Four seizures today, Max has had. Tommy hasn't woken in nearly 18 hours. They think he's in a coma, which is as good as dead."

"It really isn't." Alex counters.

I expect him to continue, but he says nothing.

"So you are an expert in the comatose state now, are you?" Harry's voice is louder now. "Because last I knew, people were dumb enough not to put any life boats on ships, just because you thought they were unsinkable."

"The titanic is a line." Alex states it as a fact.

"Why, you won't tell me why?" Harry's voice almost sobs. "It's been eight years, and I know nothing about you. You know my story."

"I didn't ask you to be here," Alex said.

"You want me to leave you?" Harry begins yell now.

I hope everyone else is sleeping.

"I didn't ask you to be here." Alex reaffirms. "And you are crossing a line."

"You want to be alone while all of our friends are dying? Jared is dead. James is suffering severe dehydration, doubt he'll last the week. Robert pretends he's doing fine but if the sickness takes James and not him, God knows what he'll do. Who knows what Charlie's been up to, but he's either going to wither away from boredom or get himself killed. My brother is going to die, maybe he already has and I've been too busy wasting my time with him caring about you."