The Survivors

Chapter 35-Guilt and Charity Balls

The air is colder tonight. As if to punish me for my many, many mistakes. Why did I ever become the leader? Why do we even need a leader? Why can't Mom do this... Why couldn't I save them? I grimace as the violent images of Oliver and Bree rise back up into my mind, almost like vomit. Guilt is a horrible feeling, it's like it's own monster. Tearing me up from the inside causing blood and tears to drip from my eyes.

God no. I cover my mouth, grimacing at the image of blood dripping from Bree's open eyes, her eyeball sliced in half and turned to mush. More violently gruesome images echo through my head like a record stuck on repeat. No one in the right of mind should ignore these, and I watched a couple horror movies to get my fill of gruesome creepiness. I watched the Sixth Sense for God's sake, I should be handling this better. But it's different when it's real. It makes me physically sick.

"Levi are you okay? You're looking really pale..." Jenny worries as she walks towards my side. I stand with my back against the ocean, staring at the threatening jungle of shadows and deranged animal calls. No one is safe anymore. I don't think we ever were. I look at her slowly to find her holding out a leftover banana from earlier. The darkness around us is suffocating, causing my unsettling imagination to act up like it did when I was younger.

Sometimes I feel like Elliot's stronger than me. He didn't even react when we told him they had... gone away. He just nodded and turned back to his sandcastle. He may be too young to understand, or he's just strong enough to power through it, just like the deal with his parents... his trauma also may be blocking reality. This may seem like a dream to him even. But now I'm starting to crack and break down, turning into a version of myself that I'm a bit scared of.

That little boy who was deathly afraid of the dark. That stupid boy who was bullied in elementary school for crying like a girl. I am already slipping to the second one, returning to an overly-sensitive state. And now the even darkness is more terrifying than ever.

"What? No, I'm white. This is natural," I answer trying to play off as nonchalant. I just shrug and turn my attention to our bonfire. I wish I could control fire, then I could burn this island to the ground. I would create a big enough signal for the rescue planes that could be just beyond the range of the chemicals. Maybe the fire could burn through the chemicals.

Right now, I'm crazy enough to try anything. Anything to get us all safely off this island. Even if it means risking my own life, I can't let anyone else die because of my ignorance.

"Levi..."

"I said I'm fine," I snap at her, shutting the conversation down. I huff loudly and glare at the pulsing flames. "I don't want to talk about it," I add spitefully. Because if I do, I think I'm going to break again. Just like a worthless coward, letting my emotions take over me. I'm a man, I shouldn't be acting like this.

She just sighs in response, shoving the banana into my hand. "Alright if you don't wanna talk, don't talk." She flicks her wrist to the side, her gaze trained on the fire. "But don't be rude to me about it." She throws me a pointed look and grips her banana tightly, "I'm your friend, I know you're sad. We all are," her voice breaks causing guilt to kill me faster, "a-and I just-," she gasps softly and sniffles shortly after, "I-I can't be dealing with even more problems. We should be comforting-," she just stops after that.

I look over slowly to find her crying into one hand. Tears running from her eyes and her facing heating up. She gasps loudly between her soft cries, her shoulders trembling. Dropping her head, she seems to ignore my presence, locking herself in her own personal bubble of grief.

"I should have been nicer to her," she whispers shakily, closing her eyes seeming in pain. "I should have been her friend, I-I didn't realize..."

I slightly grimace, watching her silently.