Stranded in Thoughts

Chapter 7 - The Island

My head hurt.

My surroundings were a blur, and I found it hard to stand. My ears were ringing. I felt like there was blood flowing out of them. I tried to lean sideways using my right arm, and I touched my head with my left to check any injuries.

It hurt.

I twisted my hip and noticed that something was lying on my lower body. No, someone.

And it hurt.

I shook my head a little bit, and gradually the environment became clearer. I first noticed that everything was blue.

The person dangling limply on my legs was my student—Finlay. His disheveled, smooth, black bangs were complementing the overall shape of his small face that consisted of wide eyelids, broad nose, well-shaped lips, and a firm jaw. I had never been this annoyed with such a handsome face before.

I remembered what happened. All my pure concern with this student turned to a feeling that I neglected for a long time, which I should have accepted all this time. I was enraged, and I badly wanted to shove this disrespectful and ungrateful child away, but then my anger diminished as soon as an automatic cognitive flash pieced the jigsaw pieces of my memory altogether in one bang, replaying in backward what happened.

Chevonne.

I moved Finlay aside and scanned the area. No signs of her. I tried to be on my feet but stumbled pitifully on my knees, and then suddenly tears ran down my cheeks, falling briskly on the sand.

I prayed for her to be safe. I kept on muttering for her to be well and sound: God, help me. If something bad happened to her, please just let it be me. Just let her be alive. Please, let my ability be useful again, even if it's the last that I'll be able to use it.

"Josh?"

A god-sent whisper went into my blood-filled ears. The familiarity of the voice made my heart skip a beat and for some reason, I wanted to hug her. Chevonne, standing limply, offered her hand. I grabbed it shyly and gave her a satisfied and full-of-relief smile with my eyes averted downward, poking the sand with my unblinking stare. I hoped she would get the message that I was thankful she was alive.

"Why are you crying?" she asked—her first official question to me ever since she got hired in Arullina. Well, honestly, it was the first time she had spoken to me directly.

Crying? Why in the name of gods would I cry? I tapped my cheeks—almost freezing to touch—and found out they were damp. Damn, why now? I didn't want her to see me vulnerable like this. I was supposed to be the one protecting her. I was supposed to be the man. I was supposed to be the one, on all occasions, not crying.

"No. No. It's the wind. The wind is kind of strong, it makes me tear up. But not really cry. You know, those are two different things," I awkwardly defended while trying to shove all the tears back in my eyes. I realized the petty attempt I was doing and hid my hands behind my back.

"Is Finlay okay?"

"Oh, yes, Finlay!" I replied. I went straight to the kid and nudged him to wake up. I was thankful to have an excuse in avoiding a conversation with Chevonne about why my stupid eyes were spouting tears of joy. I might have been wrongly doing my job of waking Finlay because she told me to stop and to just let her do it. I gave way and watched her gently cradle the kid in her arms like a mother would do to her baby.

"Are you okay?" she asked as soon as Finlay had slowly opened his eyes.

"Where are we?" Finlay asked, starting to play dumb. I hated admitting it, but there was a tingling sensation within me that I couldn't just disregard—an urge to punch this kid's face. I didn't mean it, but I did mean it in a way. Call me confusing or whatever; all I wanted was just to return this kid home. If not for him, we should still have been on the barge—safe. Why was he even with us? They said to give him an opportunity to change. Excuse me, to what?