Pretty When You Cry ୨୧ Rafe Cameron

twenty seven

The Pogues found themselves stranded on a mysterious, uninhabited island. The lifeboat plan would never have been as effective as they schemed. Isla sat on the sandy beach, the waves crashing against the shore as she gazed out at the endless expanse of the ocean. Her heart felt heavy with defeat as she contemplated how her life had led her to this isolated island, far from the world she once knew. God only knows how long she'd be there.

Somehow, most of the others seemed more upbeat. Especially JJ. Isla always found that JJ could lift her spirits even in the dimmest moments. His optimism didn't change the despair she felt though.

Isla stood at the water's edge, feeling the gentle warmth of the tropical waves washing over her feet. Amidst the sounds of laughter and chatter from the others, she couldn't help but feel a sense of exhaustion from the constant rush of adrenaline. Normally she'd be up for an adventure like this with her friends, but now she just wanted her bed, a bottle of sunscreen, and maybe a good cry.

Sarah came over and took a seat beside her as if she understood exactly how she was feeling. She had the same solemn expression on her face as Isla.

'I'm not feeling so great about this,' she huffed.

Isla responded, 'All I want right now is to be in my own comfortable bed.'

I wonder how long we'll be stuck here. Will it be days, weeks, or even longer? months?' Sarah quibbled.

'I don't even wanna think about that. But hey, at least you're not shipped off with your family, and Rafe decided not to slit my throat,' Isla replied, recalling the fear-filled memory.

'Rafe almost slit your throat?!' Sarah gasped.

'Kind of, but I don't think he ever would've actually done it,' Isla explained.

Sarah expressed genuine concern, 'He needs help.'

'He told me that once,' Isla mentioned.

'My dad, he'd just never let him get help. He always just wanted him to be ok, so he just ignored the problem,' Sarah illustrated.

'God, he's just so...' Isla said, stammering off.

'Guys come here we found somewhere to sleep!' John B yelled from a distance. He was over by a cave-like area, which would shield them from any bad weather if it came.

'Ugh, I just want a bed,' Kiara complained.

'Ok, you girls, and Pope. You've gotta be more positive. I mean we've got this beautiful island all to ourselves! What's to complain about? We can even surf, those waves look perfect,' JJ exclaimed, clearly having a more positive outlook on life than the rest of them at the moment.

'JJ we have no boards,' Pope attested.

'Well, we can body surf till we figure that out. All I'm saying is we'll be fine,' JJ said.

"My parents are probably worried sick," Pope said, feeling concerned.

Isla, John B, and JJ exchanged knowing looks that communicated their current lack of parental care, they couldn't relate to Pope in the slightest.

As the day drew to a close, the sun descended below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the endless expanse of the ocean. The sky transitioned from hues of orange and pink to deep blues and purples, and soon only the soft, silvery light of the moon illuminated the surroundings as the night approached.

The Pogues gathered around a crackling fire, discussing their next moves. It was frightening to be stranded on that isolated island, so far removed from the rest of the world.