Inconsolable » Squid [Holes]

4: Expectations vs Reality

Mickey knew as soon as she woke up the next morning that the bruise around her eye was worse than she had imagined. The skin was still sensitive to the touch and it throbbed along with her pulse. Resting it on her scratchy, porous pillow probably didn't help matters. Whenever she blinked tears appeared in her eyes which had to trail down her face. Rubbing it away was not an option. Not if she wanted to risk getting sand or dirt or grit into the wound to make it worse.

So now she had to get up before the sun with an aching face, stiff, tense muscles, and a cloud looming over her head. She was in X-Ray's and Magnet's debt. Who knew what they would get her to do? They treated each other like friends but would look for any sort of benefit from friendships if they could get it. It was a dog-eat-dog world out there in the desert; she wasn't stupid enough not to believe that. Every man for himself and if she was going to survive however long she was going to be there she had to play by their rules.

Which was how she managed to get herself up before the others, put on her clothes (under her covers, she wasn't stupid enough to risk changing thinking that the boys were asleep), and begrudgingly head out to the Mess Hall to prepare breakfast for the rest of the camp.

She trudged up the stairs and flung open the door, rubbing the sleep out of the corner of her good eye. Her left eye had swollen to the point that half of her vision had been taken away but if she lifted her head she could see out of it. That's what she had to do while she tried to prepare breakfast that morning: toast and celery sticks with peanut butter. Not that great of a breakfast choice but it was better than tortillas and honey.

"Good morning," Eagle chirped as he walked into the kitchen, carrying many loaves of bread in his arms. "Ooh, maybe not so good," he mumbled when Mickey threw a glare his way. Well, as good of a glare as she could muster with her bum eye. He set the bread down and peered at her. "What happened to your eye?"

"I fought a rattlesnake, what do you think happened to it?" Mickey snapped, brandishing the knife that was in her hand to spread peanut butter on the celery.

"Whoa, okay, no need to wave that around," Eagle said, holding up his hands. Mickey grunted and spread another slab of peanut butter onto the piece of celery in her hand. "What happened?"

"Oh, nothing, I just got attacked by a psycho," Mickey replied. She blinked in surprise at how easy and willing her words came out of her mouth. Like she was talking to an old friend...

"Psycho in C-Tent attacked you?"

Mickey looked up at him and then slowly shook his head. "I don't know why I'm surprised that there's someone here named Psycho," she muttered, picking up another piece of celery. She paused to yawn, her left eye stinging from the added tears. She let it trail down her cheek and clear the darkened skin before wiping it away. "But no."

"Someone in your tent?" Eagle pressed. "Zigzag, right? He's crazy, you know. Always staring at that TV when there's nothing on it. Talks to his shovel sometimes. Don't cross him."

"Good to know," she grumbled. And it was. She didn't know those boys from Adam. For all she knew she was stuck in a tent with a bunch of serial killers. And Pendanski and Mr. Sir were fine with that. A lump formed in her throat, as if she had eaten a glob of peanut butter herself.

She was stuck in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of juvenile delinquent boys who were there for god knows what reason. Some of them could have killed people. Some of them could have seriously y injured others. Some could be drug pushers, for all she knew! They could easily kill her and hide her body and no one would be of the wiser. No one would even care, aside from her family.