Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Being one of the few people awake in the camp wasn't a new thing to Roxy. Ever since the invasion, she got enough sleep so that she could function, but never more than that. Bags now rested permanently under eyes, contrasting with her pale skin. Never in her life had she looked or felt so exhausted, but she couldn't bring herself to care.
Thoughts about her family travelled through her mind during the late hours of the night, consisting of mostly memories she had repressed and fantasies about a life where aliens hadn't invaded the planet. As much as she tossed and turned, falling asleep was usually impossible. That was the reason why Roxy had volunteered to keep watch over the camp for a few hours every night. Having to stay vigilant didn't allow her to spend too much time in her own head, and she was using her time to help the group, therefore killing two birds with one stone.
Much like she had predicted when Captain Weaver had announced that the Skitters had taken control of several areas in the city, the group was evacuating in the morning. She had taken advantage of her insomnia to pack up her few belongings in a bag and make sure there was enough fuel in her bike for the distance they would be travelling. After, she found herself grabbing some ammunition for her weapons and one of the few water bottles she had found back in the grocery store.
Finally, with nothing left to do, Roxy had sat down on the cold cement floor near one of the fires and pulled out her sketchbook. It was one of the objects she had kept in her possesion from the very beggining, and several pages were filled with drawings of landscapes, the aliens, their aircrafts and even some of the people she had met after joining the group. Creating her own art had always been Roxy's coping mechanism, as well as one of her oldest habits.
The fire burning beside her illuminated the blank page with an orange tint as her pencil made contact with the paper, warming her up as she began drawing. Her hand moved quickly as Roxy tried to get the image stuck in her head onto the paper, her eyes narrowing as she added all the details she thought she needed to. Each and every time, she knew exactly what she was drawing even before she picked her pencil up.
Hours passed, the only sound echoing in the camp being Roxy's pencil scratching against the paper. The drawing slowly became what she wanted it to be: the bomb exploding in the city from her own point of view. She had drawn the tall buildings and the trees that somehow still stood, the night sky illuminated by the blast. Everything was shadowed perfectly, almost like she was looking up at the explosion in that moment and not drawing from memory. Even her portrayal of the beamer, something that she had never seen up close, was surprisingly accurate.
"Can't sleep?"
Roxy didn't have to look up to know that the person speaking to her was Karen Nadler, a girl few months younger than her who served as one of the scouts. She had been one of the first people to actually try and talk to Roxy when she was first accepted into the group, hoping to make a friendship with another girl around her own age. The blonde had been followed by Hal Mason, her fellow scout who she had formed a romantic relationship with. Roxy had liked them both from the beggining, even if she had grown slightly envious of the connection they shared.
