Stranded in Thoughts

Chapter 8 - The Captain of the Barge

I was inside our room with Molly once again. She was not saying anything: she just kept on sobbing. Why ate? Why... hic... hic... I was faithful. I was faithful until the end. I even promised myself that I will be serious this time. I'm head over heels in love with him. But he said that he didn't feel the same, that he never did. He just dated me because of my looks—never of my whole being, uwaaa...

It was the worst.

I was never good at consoling people and giving them pieces of advice. I tried comforting my sister but with no avail. I didn't even know the boyfriend Molly was referring to since she had been dating down to an art, to begin with. I even attempted asking WikiHow about how to comfort someone who had just had a breakup when a message came in.

Teacher Jelly, the headmaster wants to talk with you regarding your late submissions.

It was teacher Grumpy. Oh, no. I had been passing my LPs late.

I was about to send a reply when I heard a feeble voice calling me out: Elly... Elly! Hey... you... wake...

I jerked up and hungrily gasped for air. People were about the perimeter. A middle-aged man was over me—checking me up.

"Are you alright? Here, try to hoist yourself up slowly," the man suggested with a lot of concern in his voice. He supported me up to lean against his left arm.

"Jelly! Oh, my God, we thought you're gone!" Ritchelle interjected.

"Hey! What are you saying? It's just you, not we. And, don't say that, Ritch. You're scaring her," Alyssa added.

"Hey, Elly, can you hear me? I know it's hard, but please keep on breathing," Vhina said seriously, putting her hands on my cheeks. She thought she had just given me a bit of good advice, but somehow, with her choice of words, it seemed kind of off.

"Everyone, kindly clear up the area," the man requested, who was evidently a doctor. His facial features were of a robust type for an Asian man. He had a good-looking face with a well-trimmed beard paired with a strong jaw and a short but attractive goatee.

Something started boiling in my chest.

I went over a lot of check-ups and interrogations by the doctor, accompanied by teacher Mary, when the crowd had subsided. I could hardly notice the surrounding people—my eyes couldn't maintain focus. My glasses, according to Ritchelle, were nowhere to be found. I felt groggy and fell asleep.

† † †

I was almost drowning in my sweat when I woke up. I was lying on a makeshift bed made of random clothes and blankets. I checked my surroundings: nothing much was around except my stuff. I was inside a small space with a pointed roof: surely a kind of tent. I studied the cramped space that might have been oddly cozy if not for the temperature. It was too hot inside, so I decided to go out.

People were busy amidst the glare of the torturing sun. I could count to almost half of the number of people I had counted on the barge, including the crew. I saw the doctor who helped me earlier attending to someone else now. The young-looking, old lady I had seen on the barge was walking around, giving pieces of pan burikat and different types of chicharon to eat. The Pikachu shirt had been replaced with a tiled-Jigglypuff sweater.

What was with this manang?

The shoreline was dotted with different makeshift tents that were made of almost anything—from cloth to wood and metal that might have been pulled out harshly from somewhere.

Metal?

In a matter of seconds, it all went back to me.

The barge!