The Trip

{ The Trip }
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| "YOU SHOULDN'T BE SO SCARED."

"They feed on fear."

Delilah glared up at her brother, shoving him away. "Ha ha ha, really funny, Drew," she snapped. "You're so immature." He stuck his tongue out at her, falling down onto the log beside her. "Immature? I prefer the term — imaginative." Drew grinned, and Delilah rolled her eyes. "In your dreams." She turned away from him, feeling cross.

"Oh come on. You gonna pout through the whole trip?"

Delilah looked back at her brother. "No. I'm not even pouting. Shut up." She pointed a finger at him accusingly. "You just know I hate it when you try scaring me." Drew huffed. "Yeah — 'cuz it works." He smirked, and she waved him off, walking away.

"Where are you going?" He called after her. "To find Mom and Dad. They aren't as annoying as you," she replied over her shoulder. He cursed under his breath, and jogged to catch up with her. "Well, you can't just leave me alone," he complained. "Now whose the scared one?" She quipped back sarcastically, smirking to herself.

"Still not me," he answered. Delilah didn't bother replying. She knew her parents had gone to collect firewood, but it was taking them much longer than what should be normal. She sighed, trying to squish and quench the inklings of worry she felt blossoming in her chest. It was probably nothing; she just had a tendency to overreact.

"You think they're off banging somewhere? Collecting firewood doesn't normally take this long, you know." Her brother wondered aloud, smirking widely. His blatant statement made Delilah's eyes widen, her cheeks flushing red. "Drew!" She exclaimed, smacking his shoulder. "Don't say stuff like that," she hissed. He chuckled. "Why? It's true." He shrugged carelessly, and Delilah wanted to wring his neck. What a pervert!

"Uh huh." She turned a corner, pushing branches and leaves out of her way. "Now that I think about it, we've probably stepped through a ton of poison ivy by now," she murmured. "Joy. A nice rash will definitely have all the girls flocking on over to me," Drew replied breezily. Delilah shot him a 'really?' look but didn't bother to answer him.

"Mom! Dad!" She cupped her hands around her mouth, starting to shout.

She was getting tired of searching and gaining no results. If her parents really were doing what Drew said — gross, but at least they'd have time to recover and find their children. She was growing impatient. She missed them, hating to be so clingy but Drew was itching on her last nerve. Besides, night was growing closer, and she was hungry. She could feel her stomach grumbling, a low growl that bounced through her.

She took a deep breath, getting ready to yell again when Drew stopped her. A serious look appeared on his face, and he was clinging tightly onto her wrist. "Delilah," his tone was stern. "Shut up." She raised an eyebrow, but listened and didn't scream. "Why?" She demanded. "We need to find Mom and Dad, so we might as well call out."

"Have you seen no horror movies? And I know you have, we watch them together you idiot, so don't even try to lie." Drew grumbled. "Each time someone, especially a scaredy girly-girl like you, calls out — they get fucking gutted. Doesn't matter when or where, they just do. The dumb bloke who yells 'hello?' when they obviously shouldn't, yeah — that's you right now. You need to be quiet. We can find Mom and Dad silently."