Remember Me

Chapter Sixteen

The day following my mini panic attack proves to be quite uneventful. We spend the day leisurely hanging around the campsite, engaging in conversations, riding our bikes, and occasionally getting carried away, resulting in the park rangers reminding us to keep the noise down. After enduring countless rounds of go fish and twenty-second showdown, I find myself yearning to leap off the extreme cliffs again rather than endure another session of card games.

As the sun starts its descent, we gather for dinner. I find myself absentmindedly poking at the steamed vegetables and beef sandwich on my plate while engaging in a variety of discussions. It hits me that today is July seventeenth, marking the halfway point of our trip. This realization sparks some introspection. Two weeks have passed. Fourteen days, and I haven't made any significant progress with Nathan.

Distracted from the ongoing conversation, my mind begins to concoct a plan.

Maybe...no, I should talk to him tonight. Thank him for helping me yesterday and then we might get into a conversation. I could slip in being friends somehow?

Goodness, I don't know what to do.

What if I mess it up?

What if I say something embarrassing and humiliate myself? Maybe I shouldn't say anything at all.

No. I have to say something. Anything is better than standing in fear's shadow.

What is the worst that can happen? He says no?

No.

He hits me again.

"Charlotte?"

My eyes snap open.

"Charlotte," my father says again. "Can you do the dishes for us tonight?"

"Oh yeah, of course," I reply and set off to retrieve water for the dishes.

As I walk past Nathan's campsite, my eyes involuntarily drift in his direction. There he is, seated at the picnic table, having dinner with his father. However, something seems off. Nathan isn't smiling, or talking with his father. Instead, he looks downhearted. Miserable even. He looks as if he has received some devastating news, something that shattered his demeanor. Witnessing this scene, my heart tightens with a pang of sadness. This trip was meant to be filled with joy and excitement, not weighed down by such somber emotions.

Before I can become fixated the water reaches the top of the pot and I turn it off and wander back to my campsite. I plop the pot on the camping stove, little droplets of water flying out and handing on my bare legs. I boil the water, add the soap, and by the time all the dishes are done it is time to head over to Jason's campsite for ghost stories and s'mores.

Uncomfortably, I follow my family as we wander over to Nathan and Jason's campsite. Jason greets us when we arrive and hands us all glow sticks to crack. The glow sticks used to be my favourite part of the evening. When we were younger, all the kids would play extreme hide-and-seek in the forest with only the glowsticks. That, and the ever famous glowstick hunger games. It was the best feeling in the entire world. Hiding in the forest with your friends, covering each other's mouths to hide the loud giggles so you wouldn't be found.

The fathers take turns sharing new and ghost stories, creating a lively atmosphere filled with laughter, screams, and shared enjoyment. The earlier gloom that hung in the air has been completely washed away, replaced by an infectious energy that permeates the group. However, as the ghost stories reach their one-hour mark, a familiar wave of dizziness crashes over me, reminiscent of the episode from yesterday. Inhaling deeply through my nose, I quietly rise from my seat and stealthily make my way back to my campsite.