Washed Up ≫ A.I

Chapter [37]

[Charlotte Kendall]
Day 31

The pain and loneliness that I felt on the island the very first day can not compare to how I feel today. Everything felt numb for the whole week. After coming back to camp and seeing Emma's body under that orange tarp we once used as a shelter was something almost soul crushing. Crashing down to the dirt in uncontrollable sobs was the only thing I could do at that moment.

She encountered an episode minutes after I left her side for the very first time in a long time. She was injured and scared I should have known that twenty-one days was going to be her last.

Denise was finally able to tell me what happened in detail just three days ago. I was sitting on the beach again, staring down at the same waters that brought us all here as she spoke about that horrible night. She said Emma had fallen too quickly and broke her neck. She was always so weak and fragile, I should have known. By the time Denise was able to hold her in the correct position for a seizure Emma had already choked out. It was a terrible way to go and no one should ever have to endure that type of pain. . . especially Emma.

After we buried her on top of the mountain in the grass fields we brought the rest of our camp back down to the first beach once again. It wasn't safe to reside in the grass fields with Benson running around like a mad man. And as soon as Denise could walk again everyone was back to living life on the island like nothing has ever changed in the air. Everyone but me of course. I haven't eaten, slept, and the best I could do for the group was stare at the fucking ocean in shock. And that's just it, I was still in shock and never wanting to come out of it.

"You should eat something," A voice popped up from behind me and I turned to see Michael settling down beside me.

I look away with a depressed yank to my swollen lips, "I'm not hungry."

Michael insisted. He held the coconut shell out in front of me like a bowl that had a steamed radish melting into the inner layer of the coconut. Of course my stomach growled to the smell but I didn't budge from gazing at the dark ocean. I tried to tell myself that the stars reflected on the waves were far more interesting than eating.

"You know, when you are at the starving point of your life your mind tells you that you are no longer hungry." Michael whispered as he stirred the mixed radish next to me.

"I already knew that." I mumbled rudely, "I'm studying neuroscience, so I think I know how my brain works with the rest of my body." I looked at him and glared. I didn't mean to be so cruel, I know Michael was just here to help but everything was so destructive around me I couldn't help but play for the dark side.

Michael brought in his lower lip, catching my stare and holding it there so that I couldn't see the ocean again, "Charlotte I know you are hurting for Emma but you are also hurting yourself from surviving the rest of your time here." I gulped and suddenly the coconut was pressed into my palms, "I know Emma wouldn't want you to just give up. You're a survivor, she was a survivor too."

I shook my head, feeling the burning tears threaten to my surface. I had no water left inside of me so the tears came out transparent as the rest of my body shook in sorrow, "Sh- but she didn't. . . survive." I breathed out and suddenly Michael's arm scooped over my shoulders. He was always shirtless and his skin was always hot as it touched mine with the comfort.

"But she did, twenty-one days yeah? Emma survived this island twenty-one days and now it is your turn to live out the rest for her." He whispered, holding the bowl up so that I would take my first bite. "She wouldn't want you to give up."

I know he was right all along but this way felt easier. I was sick and tired of wasting my life on this deserted land. The outside world had passed by and here we are, six survivors waiting and waiting some more for a rescue team that has never come and never will come. My hopes and dreams were given up on a long time ago even before Emma's death. At this point it was like our lives were now passing by here and only here. Like we were forced to give up and live here. . . until our own death.