Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The van shook, its wobbly wheels giving way to light bounce on top of uneven roads. The grumble of the gravel was annoying, but slowly grew monotonous, akin to white noise. Despite the large size of the vehicle, it only housed three people–Miles, Vanessa, and Eve. Although there wasn’t much room for anyone or anything else; luggage was crammed in every corner of the car. The floor, a free seat, the trunk.

A suitcase slid out from the uneven tower of many other bags, squeezing itself through the gap between the two headrests in the back. It slipped over, and ungracefully fell onto the face of Miles. He had been laying across the seats, the seatbelt tightly winding itself around his body. He had allowed himself to be covered with luggage, paying little mind to the weight. Feeling the suitcase collide with his head, he let out a gasp and a groan.

He shoved the suitcase off, promptly sitting up. He eyed the two in the front. His sister, Vanessa and his best friend, Eve. They were dead silent, not minding the fact he had just loudly gasped himself awake. Maybe they’d just assumed he had a bad dream. An old radio station had been turned on, clearly indicated as the chorus of That’s Life by Frank Sinatra weaved its way into the atmosphere. He ran a hand through his dark, curly locks, which were stained with sweat from his prolonged nap.

“ ‘Nessa,” he said, knocking on the back of her chair, leaning around to bring his face closer to her. “Pass me a flashlight.” She didn’t give a response for a bit, and he jostled the passenger seat to the best of his ability.

He heard her stir awake, and felt a bit bad for disturbing her. They often fought and teased, but they weren’t too keen on genuinely harassing or bothering one another. She gripped her chair, attempting to stop his shaking. He had already let go at that point.

“What?” She asked, groggily. She adjusted the position of her glasses on her face. She had been sleeping with her head tilted, throwing them askew. Her hair–which she normally straightened–was beginning to frizz, looking a bit funny in the transitional state between flat as a board and her natural curls.

“Flashlight,” he repeated, leaning forwards. The seatbelt stopped him with a firm thk , which prompted him to undo it, the clicking cutting through the faint car radio. He continued to lean and reach, before Vanessa slapped his hand away.

“Calm down.” She yawned into her hand, stretching. “I’ll get it in a sec…what do you need it for?” She twisted and turned in her seat, not properly setting her gaze on him. Instead, she mostly stared at Eve–assuring she had not fallen asleep at the wheel.

“I can’t find my fuckin’ hat.” He rubbed at his nose, suddenly. “Also, it reeks back here. We’re switching seats next stop.” Such a response caused Vanessa to roll her eyes, which was only illuminated through the infrequent beam of light shining into the car. “What?” He said, following up on his original point. “You literally took your shoes off back here.”

That was true. Vanessa had opted to wear slippers for the long car ride, discarding her shoes in the back. They were likely buried under a few suitcases at this point. Miles hadn’t been looking. He had been too busy sleeping to go on a hunt for shoes that weren’t his. Especially since they belonged to his sister.

Vanessa sighed, running a hand through the mess of her hair before sighing. “You can go another hour without your hat.” She pursed her lips, a small hm sound coming out as she did so. She slumped back into her seat, pulling up her legs and leaning into the chair.

Miles knew she wasn’t actually asleep, and he began shaking the seat again, when a normally silent voice cut through their spaced out bickering.

“Miles,” Eve called. Eve had been collected at the wheel. She had shown up quite relaxed when she came to pick them up–a Hawaiian sweater, a white t-shirt and sweatpants was her attire, her near-platinum blonde hair awkwardly pinned up in a bun that was stuck through a worn down Blue Jays cap–but she was quite stern behind the wheel. Professional , even. She took driving seriously, unlike most of their friend group. It’s why he’d elected to ride alongside her. Her tone in this moment was equally serious, ice cold as her eyes were planted above them. “Chill out.”

He stopped shaking her seat, Vanessa offered a shittily mumbled thanks before her head rested in the crook of the seat and the car door. Miles thought about flicking her, but figured she was too tired to tolerate his shit with anything except a fist to the mouth. They were around three hours and thirty minutes into their drive. Up ahead was a gas station they had planned to meet up at. Another car was headed to the same place.

Miles eyes’ flicked to the GPS, indicating they were nowhere near an hour away. More like ten minutes. He slid across the backseat, his sudden movement knocking more bags out of place. “Haven’t seen Ian or Riley pass by yet,” He idly commented, his grip now on her seat. “Think we beat ‘em there?”

The question elicits the first emotional sound from Eve the entire drive. She let out a faint snort, amused at the idea. “I’m glad you’re so optimistic. I was worried we were heading to the wrong place.” She finally merged onto the highway, speeding up as the car shuffled onto smoother roads. They had been taking a quicker route, avoiding the highway for so long, but the smooth silence of a highway road was a refreshing change of pace compared to the crunch of gravel.

Miles entertained the thought of Eve driving faster than Ian, although he was quickly proved wrong. A car honked at them before going flying by. The car was as small as it was fast–a vehicular bullet. No mistaking whose car it is. Eve let out another amused snort. “Speak of the devil he shall appear,” she tutted, casually drumming her fingers against the steering wheel as Baby Götterdämerung by Monster Magnet was now faintly pouring through the van.

He raises his brow. “What kind of radio stations do you pay for, man? All in one or some shit?” He lets out a noise that indicates amusement, but he sounds more confused than genuinely entertained. 

Eve offered little solace, simply shrugging. “Maybe you knocked the knobs while wrestling with everyone’s belongings.” She grinned as she drove, and Miles knew it, shooting her a dirty glare through the back of her head.

“Hey, it’s not my fault they dumped all this shit on us.” Miles fumbled through suitcase after suitcase, tugging a nametag closer to his face to read it. “See, I could read this better if Vanessa had passed me that flashlight–” He commented, with a fake hurt and pettiness in his voice. He can never keep a joke up for longer than five seconds, however, chuckling near immediately after his sentence is over. “--But the biggest suitcase here is Riley’s …” He clicked his tongue in fake disapproval. 

“I honestly don’t know why they agreed to ride with him.” Eve had no problem gossiping about her friends. It was just light banter that she’d say to their faces. That was what made Eve such a good gossiper. It was always truthful. If you asked her to repeat the same sentences to the people she was shit-talking, she’d do it with no hesitance.

“Tall people elitism.” He grinned. It was a funny fact. The three that were stuck with all the luggage and the bigger car were all small people themselves. Eve, Miles and Vanessa were 5’2, 5’4 and 5’0 respectively, while Riley and Ian were 5’11 and 6’2 respectively. 

Eve let out another small snort. Miles also liked that about her. Despite her general stoicism, she always had room to laugh at his jokes, a breach in her defensive demeanour. “I can’t believe them,” she said, tone flat–as though she really could believe them-–but it was laced with amusement, a nod to playing along with his jest.

As a few minutes passed, Eve and Miles made brief conversation about how nauseous Riley must be feeling, likely given whiplash from Ian’s breakneck pace he called driving, before they pulled up to the gas station. It had been a bit crowded at the hour, and they turned to park into a parking lot the gas station had–which was connected to a McDonald’s.

Miles gave the passenger seat a good whack, to which Vanessa squirmed around in her seat. “I woke up when we parked, jackass.” 

Vanessa and Miles had nearly opposite demeanors. When with strangers, Vanessa could keep her cool with immense ease–while her brother normally erupted into a violent ball of anger at the wrong word. With friends, the two were swapped. Vanessa loved the group, but they could get under her skin like no-one else. Miles thought that nothing could ever piss him off while he was with this group.

He had chosen to go up to this cabin with them after all. That’s where they were going. It was their last summer before they parted ways, all heading up to different colleges and universities. So, for the summer, he had proposed the idea of driving far north. Up there, his parents owned an old–yet ginormous–plot of land. It was so deeply buried in the forest that next to nobody knew about it, so they paid little to no land tax. It had several different cabins, a working lodge with a kitchen, a desolate rock-climbing tower, and a huge lake and beach. 

Sounded like a good time before he parted ways with his closest friends. He had brought Vanessa along as well. She had a job by now, determined to never leave their town, currently attending a local college, but they had allowed her the month off. She’d always been a big achiever, which is why when she announced she wasn’t going off to university two years ago, everyone was surprised.

Miles exited the van, tumbling over a bag, quickly spinning around and pushing it in before slamming the car door. Vanessa took her time, and Eve was already walking over by the time either two had exited the vehicle proper. Miles quickly raced to catch up, booking it for Ian.

Despite the significant height difference, Ian was easily Miles’ second closest friend. Miles tackled him, the two wrestling around and bumping into the car, shouting expletives and growls at each other, laughing their asses off in between every word. Meanwhile, Riley stumbled out of the car. They looked slightly ill, leaning back against the car door. Ian drove a Volkswagen new beetle, which was painted a dark blue. It looked basically black in the dark.

Riley was the most gorgeous out of the five, and they constantly heard such from all their peers, although they were quite humble and often clammed up when people began showering them in praise. They typically had long, straight black hair, but they’d dyed it just a day or two ago to a deep purple, because they wouldn’t be able to buy any good dye as far out as they were going. They had bronze skin and an aquiline nose, and a skinnier physique due to their tall height. They rocked unsteadily before Eve came over to talk with them.

Ian had a similar energy to Miles, despite their insanely different looks. Ian had piercing green eyes, a complete opposite to the dark, brown-yet-nearly-black eyes that Miles had. Another thing that separated them was their hair. Ian did not have the same dark curls as Miles did, instead opting to buzz his brown hair. He swore he’d grow it out this summer though, and there were wisps of a real hairstyle beginning to form out from the buzzcut. He was also extremely pale, splotches of red across his body from occasional sunburning due to his inability to tan. He, too, was tall, as previously mentioned, but he had a mildly muscular build. They were still wrestling and shouting at each other before Vanessa made her way over.

Vanessa knew how long the drive was, and she dressed the most lax. Everyone else dressed in normal clothes, while she wore Hello Kitty pyjama bottoms and a grey tank top, topping off the outfit with pink slippers. Her belly button piercing created a small lump in the shirt. She crossed her arms, eyeing the two up and down. “Cut it out. You’re making us all look like freaks.” She meant it partially with love. The two managed to hear her over their general obnoxiousness, tearing away and eyeing her at the same time.

“Hey Vanessa,” Ian said, shooting her an awkward finger gun. He had never known how to really talk to Vanessa. He took everything at face value and was often unable to tell if she hated him or not. Miles knew Vanessa actually liked Ian, because she liked seeing how relaxed and happy the two were together. But she’d hang him with his entrails if he uttered such, so his lips were sealed.

“Wow, Vanessa,” Miles began, in a fake lecturing voice. She brought a hand up to her face, rubbing it and sighing, knowing he was about to say something stupid. She pushed her glasses up on her face to start rubbing at her eyes, showing how fed up she was with him at this point. “It’s so hard to believe you’re my older sister, you know. You’re sooo small and set such an awful example.” She removed her hands from her face to give him a glare. Ian looked away from the both of them, bringing a fist to his mouth to try and conceal his snorts.

“Ian!” Eve shouted, cutting through the tension a second time, ensuring nobody started fighting in the parking lot. “If you don’t stop driving like you’re in Fast and Furious I’m going to knock you off your ass.” She said everything so flatly, so coldly, but it never felt threatening. To everyone else, Eve was surely threatening, but she must have found her niche with the bunch of them. “Do you want Riley puking in your car?” Now her voice took on a scolding tone. It was far more serious than Miles could ever muster.

“Eve, please,” Riley whispered. Their voice was barely loud enough for all of them to hear, but despite the crowded nature of the gas station, it was relatively quiet. Their voice carried through the air. “I’ll be alright.” They turned, walking around to the other side to greet everyone. Vanessa walked over, determined to greet them first, hugging them.
“Ugh, I wish you could ride with us,” Vanessa said, pulling away from the hug and squeezing their shoulders a bit before letting her arms rest at her sides. Riley and Miles exchanged waves as she spoke, before Riley eyed back to Vanessa.
“Me too…have you seen how Ian drives?” Their tone got progressively louder to normal person volume, the ill flushing out of their face. Riley had been the newest to their friend group, moving from New Jersey before settling here. They kept a bit of an accent from then, which they were occasionally teased and mocked for, being called on to say words like grass. Riley was the sweetest of them all, so they didn’t tease them too often.

“Yes,” everyone else except Ian responded. Vanessa seemed exasperated, Eve seemed rather matter of fact about the entire thing, and Miles said it with a huge grin on his face.

Ian dramatically clutched his Motorhead shirt, hand bunching up the fabric around his heart, like he was deeply hurt by what they said, before he crossed his arms, grinning at the rest of them.

“Sorry man, I love you, but I’d never ride in a fuckin’ car with you…” Miles said, slapping his shoulder teasingly, grinning ear to ear. They knew each other so well at this point that it was difficult to exchange words without grinning like a bunch of dumbasses the entire time. They had made friends in the last year of eighth grade. Miles had been the general loner kid, and Ian had just gone through some dramatic breakup with his old group. They ended up sucking all throughout highschool, so who cared? Miles was happy they made fast friends, bonding over music taste, first person shooters, and being general horror buffs.

“Hurtful, Miles. Painful, and hurtful…” They were so similar that they were always getting a kick out of one another, snickering and hitting each other with amusement, although it did not impress everyone. Vanessa fell into this category of the unimpressed.

“Can you kiss and wrap it up?” She asked. She tried to look as annoyed as possible, but a smile curved at the corners of her lips. She enjoyed seeing her little brother happy, and she enjoyed hanging with his friends, who had graciously accepted her into their group halfway through senior year, now that they were basically all adults. She toyed with her snake bite piercings, which were small little purple crystal balls. They were made of amethyst–her birthstone.

Eve had been quiet the entire time. While they were re-connecting, she had been double-checking Ian’s GPS, and moving bags from van to car. She was suspiciously silent, and nobody even noticed what she was doing until they heard a faint grunt.

Having some sort of primal instinct to check on their friend, nearly all their heads whipped around in unison. Miles and Ian let out a chuckle once they noticed what everyone had done, but Ian quickly raised a brow, weaving through the three to get over to Eve.

“What are you doing?” He questioned, voice more curious than it was angry or pissed. Eve had been attempting to shove a suitcase into the backseat.

“Giving you some of the stuff,” she nonchalantly responded. “Van is basically overflowing, and nobody is sitting in the backseat.” She was still trying to cram the suitcase in. It was the overly large one Miles had pointed out before, Riley’s.

“Well, at least let me help you,” Ian insisted, worry seeping into his voice as the woman a foot shorter than him fumbled with a suitcase. He very easily reached over her, grabbing the suitcase and removing it. “Not everything will fit.”

The two resumed moving baggage around, mumbling in the background. Vanessa, Miles and Riley’s gazes quickly panned back to each other once that had all been sorted out. Riley peered down at the two, their height such a stark contrast to theirs. Oddly enough, height was rarely brought up in the group, despite half of them being unnaturally short and the other half being unnaturally tall. It just felt right.

“Well, for as shitty as a driver he is,” Vanessa began, looking up to Riley and pushing her glasses back up onto her face with a knuckle around the thick rim. She had a flat nose bridge, as did Miles, and such made her glasses slip. “At least you’re not stuck with Miles. He always has something stupid to say every eight seconds.”
Miles brow raised. “What? I let you sleep for like an entire hour. Deadass,” he said, defending himself against her accusation.

“ Deadass ,” she said, mocking him. “You talk like you’re fourteen.” She snickered. She was enjoying messing with him, probably since he had been such a dickhead before they pulled into the parking lot.

Miles just grinned, not taking any insult from his sister seriously, instead looking back to Riley to refute the claims against him. “Even if that was true, she trapped me in a chamber of stink. Took her shoes off,” he said, pointing to the slippers Vanessa was currently wearing. They were just a backup. She owned several different pairs of slippers, most with some kind of theming on them as opposed to the plain pink ones she wore right now.

Riley grinned, cutting in before Vanessa could retort. “Maybe I’m fine with his driving, then…riding with you two sounds stressful. Plus, Eve just said it was super crowded, no?” They tilted their head idly, a strange quirk they had. Riley was very easy to read. Brows always furrowing, face contorting, eyes darting around. You could tell any emotion they had at any given moment. For some people, eyes were the gateway to the soul. For Riley, it was their entire face. Tilting their head ended up causing some hair to fall over their shoulder, so they moved it back, carefully removing it from their shoulder.

“How is your hair not fried from all that bleach?” Vanessa questioned. She had tried to dye her hair a few times before, but dye never seemed to stick in her hair. Probably because of all the heat she applied from straightening it every single day, and the fact she only bought cheap dyes.

Riley was a polite person, and avoided pointing out the obvious, just shrugging in response. “I guess that’s just, uhm, the gamble in life. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.” 

Vanessa likely wouldn’t have let the answer slide if it were anyone else, disliking wishy-washy or vague answers, but she liked Riley, and chose to not comment on that, either. Sometimes you just hold back things you’d have otherwise said. She simply sighed. “Oh well. Want to do a gas station run before they’re finished?”

Riley shook their head. “I’ll puke if I eat anything. My pockets are filled with Gravol right now.” They shook around a bit. They were wearing cuffed jeans, a pale red button up, and a thrifted letterman jacket. As they rocked, Miles and Vanessa heard the rattling of several pill bottles within.

“Make sure not to overdose,” Miles said, quickly grabbing his sister by the shoulders and jostling her. “Let’s go get food.” He was eager at the idea of a gas station run. Given that they’d left around 9 P.M, Miles hadn’t eaten anything for six hours at this point. Vanessa let herself be shaken, head bobbing up and down like a bobblehead. She pushed her glasses back onto her face once he was done with that, not commenting on it, simply turning and walking to the gas station.
“Bye Riley,” she said, her back turned. “--And I’ll pay,” she added, before Miles was just inevitably going to ask anyway. Miles knew Eve wouldn’t want any food, because she insisted on being focused when driving. She also ate dinner at erratic times, since she lived mostly on her own at this point and simply ate when she had the time.

“ Ian !” Miles shouted, waving his hands and catching his attention, while Vanessa kept moving towards the gas station.

Ian poked his head around from the car. He was carrying what seemed to be the last bit of luggage Eve expected them to hold onto. The van still looked decently full, but since Miles and Vanessa were swapping seats after this, Miles took no issue. “ What ?” He shouted back, slamming the trunk closed.

“ Want anything from the gas station !?” This was getting a bit ridiculous at this point. Riley brought a hand to their mouth, averting their gaze to the ground, shoulders shaking as they laughed as quietly as they possibly could.

“Get me a pack of turtles!” He paused. “Please!” Turtles were some of his favourite candy, and it was a good one to have. Came in big boxes for a relatively cheap price. Miles gave him a thumbs up, quickly chasing after his sister, who’s regular pace had wedged a slightly large distance between them in the time it took to talk. He waved a bye to Riley, who then began regrouping with the two by the vehicles.
When Miles caught up, he almost slammed into her. She quickly stopped him with her hand, grabbing his hoodie and dragging him beside her, stopping right before the door. “I didn’t know I was buying for Ian, too,” she said, giving him an eye. Not a rude one. Not yet.

“He wants literally one thing. I have cash stuffed in my pockets if you’re too poor to afford it,” he suggested, causing her to roll her eyes again.

“Ha, ha, you’re so funny.” She pulled her wallet out of the back pocket on her pyjama pants, where it had just been resting, half out the entire time. She began flipping through the cash she had.

“You know, I just thought of the best way to get robbed. Something like, I dunno, having your entire wallet hanging right out of your pocket?” Vanessa didn’t give a response to that one, just pushing through into the store. Miles followed.

The lights of the gas station were blinding this hour. So white they seemed blue. Tiles freshly scrubbed, the place smelled like tobacco, slushies and bleach all at the same time. There was a faint hum emitting from one–just one–of the lights, but Miles could not figure out which it was. The shelves remained constantly stocked. Miles didn’t believe he’d ever seen a gas station where anything was ever missing. Vanessa seemed to adjust easier, already picking out the stuff she wanted.

“Wish there was a Dollarama around here,” she commented, but Miles didn’t answer. He was still adjusting to the environment. He peered down, noticing a welcome mat. That was definitely odd, but appreciated in some capacity.

They spent their shopping in silence. The adrenaline from meeting their friends had worn off, and now they simply picked up a few items for the final few hours. Miles didn’t take too much, figuring he’d end up sleeping the rest of the time. He made sure to get Ian’s food, before they pulled up to the front counter.

The two were quiet, exhaustion robbing any words they might’ve had. Vanessa placed down the required money, essentially turning Miles into a pack mule to carry all of it back. His arms were swamped, the several candy bags reaching up to his chin. She had insisted they charged more if you asked for a bag, and he did not protest, moving onwards. Eve had seemingly already climbed into the van.

Miles stood directly in front of Ian, waiting for him to take his box of Turtles. He did so, thanking Vanessa, giving her a small wave of acknowledgement. After he’d done that, Miles swung open the van door, dumping all the food in there for Vanessa to sort through. 

Vanessa and Riley hugged again. She seemed worried, not wanting Riley to puke on the way back, but they reassured her it’d be alright, returning the hug, patting her on the back, mumbling something that must’ve eased Vanessa. Miles and Ian wrestled a bit more before parting ways. They likely would have done it for longer, but both Vanessa and Riley looked eager to get on the road again.

“See you in three hours, yeah?” Miles asked, grinning at him, sticking his fist out for a fist bump, eyes flicking up to Ian.

Ian shook his fist like it was a hand, grinning back. “Yeah. Promise I won’t drive too badly. Riley’s got their camera out, so they’ll probably record me or somethin’ if I do…” He joked, before pulling Miles in, giving him a hard whack on the back before getting into the car, the door still ajar.

“A camera?” Miles asked, coughing a bit from the whack and holding his chest. He didn’t know Riley had a camera in there.

Vanessa was sitting on the edge of a suitcase, body half hanging out the van, almost falling forwards. “If you were ever using your brain and your ears at the same time, you’d remember them saying they wanted to record all of this. Because we don’t have any service there, and phone camera quality is shitty anyway.” Miles shrugged, and Vanessa retreated into the van, reaching all the way over luggage to pull the door closed. She only got it semi-closed, so Miles ran up and slammed his body in it, hearing a click.

Ian gave him another parting wave before shutting the car door for good, and Miles ran around to sit shotgun. Vanessa had already done up her seat belt by the time he was in, pulling up her legs and leaning against the car door, closing her eyes and trying to get some shut-eye as significantly less amounts of luggage shifted around in the van, which roared to life as Eve put it into ignition.

Miles clicked his seatbelt on. “Speaking of phones, where are all of ours?” Miles didn’t use his phone much. It couldn’t have done much anyway, and he preferred to see his friends in real life instead of texting them.

Eve gestured to a fishnet sort of pocket right by his feet. It held all three of their phones, folded shut. It was easy to tell who’s phone was who’s. Miles had a plain black one, Eve had a white one–which had her name written on a piece of tape which was then attached to it–and Vanessa had a pink one, decorated with rhinestone stickers and similar designs, because she used that thing quite often, at least when she wasn’t at work.

“Cool.” Miles yawned, leaning back into the seat as they heard the beetle whizz past them, exiting the parking lot in a blink, merging back onto the highway. He didn’t ask about the flashlights, because Eve already had one on her person. It was a heavy duty police flashlight, so they’d have no trouble navigating the path and unloading everything.

He laid back, finding it much easier to sleep up front. Feeling safer, in control, knowing that he could wake up and easily see where they were all at. Knowing that his best friend was at the wheel, right by his side. It didn’t take long before the faux-darkness of shutting your eyes turned into the truest darkness there was–falling into unconsciousness.
We’ll Meet Again started up on the radio, the near-silent song filling up the dead quiet van as the two slumbered, Eve left alone. Nothing but her and the road, and three hours to go.

Chapter Text

Riley bounced their leg as they sat beside Ian. The car hummed underneath the two, its powerful engine increasing the ambience of the highway. Moving from Newark to the significantly more measly town of Munster, Ontario –which boasted a population of under a thousand–they had missed the stir of traffic. They missed it significantly less having to be in a car with Ian, but it was quite enjoyable once he steadied his pace.

Riley had never spent much alone time with Ian.They had joined the group around the same time as Vanessa, who gravitated towards them, making fast friends. They knew everyone–the group was extremely tight knit. However, they avoided 1 on 1 scenarios with him like the plague. They were just nervous around him, so they opted to ride with him, in hopes to straighten out any misconceptions he might have had about them.

They took a few photos of him with the camera, ensuring the flash was off to not try and distract him. The clicks were muffled by the rather loud music playing through the car. Ian had brought his own CDs, and they were listening to Hellbilly Deluxe at the moment. It wasn’t Riley’s normal kind of music, but it was at least entertaining.

“So,” they began, setting the camera down and turning the music to a lower volume, gently grasping the knob. “Why do you drive so fast, anyway?” They figured it was a pretty awkward question, but a relevant one.

Ian was equally socially obtuse, and kind of stumbled his way through the question. “Uh, I just like the feeling, you know? Really adrenaline pumping.” He paused, remembering what Eve said. “...I can totally slow down, though.” He didn’t look like he wanted to make Riley feel bad, or start to despise him. Driving was fun, but he seemed to feel like garbage everytime he hurt someone.

“Yeah. That’d be nice.” They relaxed a bit in their seat, offering a small smile. This was awkward, but at least it was earnest. They folded the camera shut, letting it rest in their lap. “I wish I bought a higher quality one, but I’m saving for the move…so I got a second hand camera.” They were quite happy about this find, actually. The quality wasn’t awful–they’d tested a few pictures before leaving–and it was priced very reasonably.

“Oh, yeah! I can’t believe you’re moving out of the province.” He straightened himself more. Ian always remembered little details about people, and what they were getting up to. “All the way to Montreal. McGill.” He nodded his head a little. Like Riley, he was emotive. Nowhere near their level, as he was just a tad reserved, but Riley appreciated it nonetheless. The small gestures to indicate how he was feeling. The fact you could tell when the lightbulb went off in his head, just like them.

“Yeah…moving twice in two years. Makes my head all dizzy.” They were a bit anxious about heading out to university. It’s what they’d always wanted, to pursue higher education. They were going to become a pharmacist, interested in the world of chemistry and medicine. They’d wanted to have gone to the University of Toronto, only four hours away from where they lived, but they had rejected their application. They gripped the camera a bit tighter. Could they find friends again? Would this group even stay in touch?

Ian sensed the lingering nervousness in the car, seemingly reading their mind. “Hey. Most of us don’t have plans. Taking gap years and all that…so don’t blame yourself for being driven.” The car had slowed, now moving alongside the other cars on the highway instead of blazing through them. “I’m sure we’re going to keep talking. And–and who knows what will happen after university, right?” He kind of just kept talking. Riley noticed he was never sure if his original words got the message he wanted across, so when he talked, he talked a lot–needing everyone to know what he was on about. “And…you’re so smart, and so…you don’t just have book smarts, you know? You’re emotionally intelligent and, well, we’d miss you and if anything you’d ditch us . Not in a bad way, but you’d make friends like nothing.”

Riley laughed a little. Their cheeks always scrunched a bit when they smiled or laughed. They liked how genuine he was, and how optimistic he was for their future. It put them at ease, even if they didn’t believe every single world, it still meant they all cared for them. They’d find ways to keep in touch. “Maybe I’ll be the reason Miles starts using his phone,” they joked, before worrying that they sounded mean. “Not that there’s anything wrong with not using a phone.” They didn’t want to insult Miles. 

Despite growing very close with all four of them, they fretted about insulting them. Miles was clearly comfortable with joking insults–he would never have dished what he couldn’t take–Eve was impartial, as she was to most things, and Ian never took insult to any joke. It was only Vanessa who it would occasionally irk, and even then, it was never too serious. 

Still, they worried about not being good enough for their friends. They were instantly accepted by the group, and felt like they owed it to them for taking pity. Something silly like that. Ian, again, picked up on their emotions. Riley was so outwardly emotive it was difficult not to, and he’d feel rude if he ignored it.

“Really, you can make fun of us…might as well start now. You shouldn’t worry so much about yourself. We like you for you.” He glanced over briefly, smiling, which they returned. When his eyes peered back to the road, they flicked on the camera, squinting at the photos. 

Their face wrinkled as they flicked through photo after photo, seeing that each and every one had some sort of weird distortion. No surprise a second hand camera had already gotten busted. Must have been the reasoning for a cheap price. They let out a sigh, leaning back. Of course this is what would happen right before their vacation.

“Hey, what’s up?” He frowned too, not enjoying the sounds he was hearing. He figured there was a long three hours left, so they wouldn’t spend all of it talking, but he would help them the moment they sounded tense. The situation wasn’t so sad, as there was still the ambience of the CD flowing through the car.

Until that cut out as well, before Riley could even answer. The moment they opened their mouth, it clicked right off. Ian thought it was a bit weird, but refrained from commenting until his friend said they were alright.

“Oh, the camera, it just…there’s all this weird colouring on it,” they timidly said, feeling bad about dumping so many issues on him. They folded up a bit too, body shrinking into itself as they sat. They fiddled with the camera anxiously, fingers sliding over the device, which was more aptly described as a camcorder. They figured they’d be taking videos as well.

“My, uh, mom used to do photography. I remember a lot. I’ll help you with the settings when we get there.” He gave them another smile, although this one felt sadder. They now felt a little worse. They didn’t know his mother had done photography, and the sore spot had probably only worsened and worsened since the camera was brought up.

Ian’s mother had passed just a few weeks before Riley had ever met Ian. It’d been around ten months since her passing, but the two had been so close that Miles and Vanessa often commented on all the little things he’d do differently, although Riley was never able to discern these small behaviours.

One thing they did always notice was a pin he wore on his shirt day in and day out. They were a little surprised he had even brought it–what if he lost it?–but it made sense that he wouldn’t want to part with it. The lapel pin was a white chrysanthemum. It had been his mother’s favourite flower, and a double edged sword. White chrysanthemums were both flowers symbolising longevity, and the most common funeral flower.

With the radio cut out, a silence began to fill the air. A silence filled with awkwardness, bereavement, and regret. Ian seemed to feel bad for what he’d said, not wanting to make it so quiet. He was going to say something, opening his mouth, before Riley cut him off.

“You can talk about her, you know,” they offered, looking over to him. He didn’t look back, but they knew that he had to focus on the road, anyway. “I never met her, so if you want to…” Their voice kind of trailed off. They felt bad for suggesting this, swallowing a lump in their throat, fidgeting more with the camera.

“...I guess you didn’t meet her,” he said, a faint smile returning as he continued to drive. “You really wouldn’t know much about her.” It felt as if freedom spread across his face. His other friends had known him, had known his mother. Ian, being so feeling for others, had likely refrained from saying anything, not wanting to hurt their hearts in spite of whatever assuring they could offer. Riley had never met her. They felt bad for Ian, but their heart did not ache with loss the same way.

“She was really funny. And–and very sweet. Which is interesting, because everyone, uhm, always says that about people at funerals, you know?” He adjusted his posture. Relaxing more, letting the foggy air of bereavement dissipate as he continued to talk. “That’s what Miles was saying. He said something like, uh, it’s true for her, but everyone always says the same bullshit that they probably think you’re lying . Something like that. Sorry about the swearing, but you know…gotta accurately quote him, right? Not that I don’t swear, I just…I don’t know, I try not to in front of you, because you seem like you don’t like it. And, uhm, sorry if you do like it–” He was just going to go on and on like this, awkwardly rambling through his sentences.

“Hey, relax,” they said gently. “I don’t mind swearing. I just don’t swear a lot personally. I just wasn’t raised with swear words. Sorry, any English swear words.” They set the camcorder in the glovebox, folding their hands in their lap. “Hindi swear words are so much more versatile, I like to think.”

“Really? Well, yeah. That’s what he’d said, and I laughed a little. I know she would’ve liked something like that. She really liked Miles. She always said, like, we really clicked. And how she was so surprised we never talked sooner.” He continued to relax more and more. “She liked gardening. You probably guessed–” He briefly gestured to his lapel pin. “--But I took up the hobby from her. I was kind of stressing about going away, but my dad promised to take care of my flowers. And I brought some seeds to plant.” He looked around the car for a second. It seemed to be equally relieving and difficult to bring up so much. His eyes briefly set on the box of Turtles he had asked for earlier.

“Oh, shit,” he said, lightly whacking the box with his free hand. “I haven’t even touched these. Feel free to eat some.” Riley wasn’t super hungry, but they were moving slower, they had taken Gravol, and he had offered in a hard time. They lifted the box from the middle area between them, hugging it between their legs and opening the top with a mild struggle, taking out one of the candies. They ate, waiting for him to resume speaking.

“I saved so much money by never buying any of that. My mom always insisted on making me stuff, so I’d never spend a cent on gas station bottom barrel shit and all that…” He started swearing, not knowing that he wasn’t just going to make Riley uncomfortable. “She always had something in the fridge, made herself. Probably why Miles liked coming over. And for dinner. He hated sleepovers at his house and everything…” Riley grinned. They liked hearing anecdotes about life before they were here. It was interesting, like different versions of their friends. As small and as clueless as they once were.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m off topic…but the seeds I bought, they’re obviously a bunch of, uhm, chrysanthemums…don’t ask me how long it took to learn to say that word. It was in my speech at her funeral, and I used to practise in the mirror over and over… chrysanthemums , chrysanthemums , chrysanthemums …you know?” His finger rubbed over the steering wheel as some form of self-soothing, but as long as it kept the car running straight, Riley had no problem. “Like I’m some fuckin’ theatre kid…” He smiled to himself, laughing a little. 

“Being a band kid is better?” Riley questioned, grinning at him. It’s how they had spent most of their in-school time together. Riley played keyboard and he played bass, so they were both part of a makeshift school-funded rock band. They used to skip entire days of school on authorised field trips, going around to elementary schools. Some days, when Miles and Eve had plans, the two would sit around in the band room. Both cried when they had to say goodbye to the director at the end of senior year.

“Of course it is!” He was grinning a normal amount now. A bit under the level when he was roughhousing or just generally messing around with Miles. “Miss Barrett was so relaxed. She let us hang around so much. Free periods, skipping class, lunch, after school…”

Suddenly, Riley felt a bit different about the way Ian and Miss Barrett had talked to each other. They’d only seen senior year, of course, but the way Ian drifted to her…in hindsight, it looked a lot like an attempt to fill the hole in his heart where his mother had once been. They tried to shake this realisation, continuing on with the conversation.

“Yeah. I was so nervous around her at the start, but you really helped me open up to her.” They fumbled with their somewhat large jacket, fingers sliding over the buttons, nails colliding and making a soothing scratchy noise against the plastic. “You always called her something dumb everyday…like, Miss Barrett-tone…” They snickered.

“Miss Barrett-tone is the smartest wordplay I’ve ever thought of. Ask my English teacher. She would confirm.” He always knew how to carry brevity in everything he did. The way he talked. His word choice, his wit. The delivery. The way he sounded so sure in what he said when he wanted to make a joke. It put those around him at ease, like the weight of trying to be someone was lifted off their shoulders when he spoke. He put the spotlight on him, but he was always welcome to share.

“Who’d you even have? I remember she didn’t like me at all .” They picked at dead skin under their nails. Thinking about school was funny. They were talking about it like it was just another summer. Like they’d be back next year, but they wouldn’t. This trip was their final tour-de-force as friends. Time with just each other. The final chapter of the novel that was highschool. For Riley, it was a short novel. Their time in Jersey and their time in Ontario weren’t the same to them. Different universes, even. They were sad to part so quickly.

“Miss Badenoch . We all called her Miss B, anyway. It was part of the whole urban legend. You remember?” Riley rolled their eyes at him calling it an urban legend, but not in a rude way. More of a teasing way, even if he hadn’t really seen it. Ian loved dramatising everything, and it made him so funny. Another way in which he was like Miles, but Miles was so much more in your face about all of it.

“No, I had Markins. With Eve. She’s honestly the only reason I passed, I think,” Riley said, which caused Ian to give a playful, exaggerated scoff. He actually gave three scoffs, one after another, each progressing and getting higher in pitch.

“A fail for you is a B. Which was also, coincidentally, the highest grade Miss B ever gave…” He said, enunciating the last part in such a way that it sounded like a ghost story. It honestly did sound like a bit of a nightmare to Riley. Trying your hardest for the best grade you could ever get being a 75%?

“First off, I hope they would have fired her for something like that…” They said, clicking their tongue in disapproval. “And second off, even if I thought a fail was a B, isn’t it impressive how Eve was pretty much getting As in every class? She barely broke a sweat, too.” 

“I’m glad she picked herself up in senior year,” he commented, nodding along to Riley’s praise. Riley had heard a bit about Eve’s behaviour before their final year, but not much from the group. Mostly scolding from teachers or idle conversations happening around their group, rather than within. Eve had been an alright student, but a star-studded athlete. Near the end of eleventh grade, she abruptly dropped every sport and did not pick it up again. People swore she had ruined her future. Apparently Eve proved such to be untrue, her lowest grade being an A that last year. Just A.

She had taken up a scholarship, full tuition. Western University, which was around 5 and a half hours away from where they lived. Everyone was extremely happy for her and Riley. They had decided to celebrate their higher education on the same day, in a small little party. It was pleasant, using Miles’ and Vanessa’s pool to their full ability. 

Where they were going, they’d have a pool just a few feet away. Just each other for a long while, soaking up all the activities they could at the abandoned land. They’d planned for rain days, or just days where they needed a break from each other. At least half of Riley’s stuff was to entertain themself.

All the reflection had led Riley to zone out, becoming awkwardly silent while they talked with Ian. They noticed this, snapping back to the present. “Oh, sorry, I totally zoned out…”

He shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. I’d have zoned out too if I wasn’t driving.” Ian had flicked the radio back on as they were zoned out, it seemed, the CD filling what would have otherwise been awkward silence. He kept it quiet, though, per Riley’s silent request.

Both Riley and their nausea had gone quiet, so they picked up another Turtle from the box, eating it. Now that they were genuinely a bit hungry, instead of eating out of politeness, they enjoyed the snack. Their face squished, eyebrows furrowing and raising, their face a clear indicator of the gears in their mind turning. “This is good,” they said.

“I know, right? They’re my favourite.” He cracked his neck idly, an audible sound rippling through. “Jesus fuck, dude…where did that sound come from?” He rubbed at his neck for a few seconds. “Pardon my old man bones, Jesus Christ…so loud for what?” He laughed at himself, a bit embarrassed the sudden noise had interrupted conversation. “They’re really good, though. Chocolate and caramel are like the best.”

Riley shook their head, not commenting on his so-called old man bones . “Chocolate and coconut . I love those…what are they called…county bars?” They shut their eyes, pinching their nose bridge, trying to think.

“ Bounty ,” he corrected. “They’re alright. You never eat chocolate anyway, do you?”

“When you say that, it makes me sound like some kind of health nut…” Riley ate as much junk food as the next person, they just had a personal distaste for chocolate. Plain chocolate was just something they could never stomach. At the very least, it had to be paired with something. They likely ate the most out of the group, or at the very least tied with Miles. 

“I know.” He grinned mischievously. “That’s why I said it.” They couldn’t help but laugh at that one, the expression combined with the overall intent made it seem so…comically immature that it elicited a laugh. It was so casual, too. No pauses for dramatic effect. Ian simply had an infectious charm.

They didn’t even have a response, just continuing to laugh. The fact Riley couldn’t ever get themselves to stop laughing after starting was one of the few reasons they were awful at continuing jokes. But their laughter was as good as a joke in it of itself, causing everyone around to laugh as well. And in this moment, it made Ian laugh.

“You’re making me laugh at my own joke!” He scolded through the laughter. He cleared his throat, calming himself, eyeing above him, then to the GPS in the car. “This is our exit,” he said, seemingly grateful to get off the highway.

It didn’t take too long, the car quickly shifting onto a calmer, slower road. The outskirts of a city passed by them in a lit-up blur as they travelled across the road. It would be just roads surrounding towns for a little. The final leg of the journey would be entirely on gravel, a backroad. They had to input literal coordinates into the GPS rather than a town name.

“Towns are so pretty when you’re just…watching them from afar, yeah?” He asked, nudging Riley with his elbow, driving far more relaxed now that they were pretty much the only ones on the road, as the buildings faded further and further, making way for a new town in a few kilometres. 

“...Yeah,” they agreed, a bit of nostalgia in their voice, thinking back to the times they had to ride bus after bus to get anywhere before coming here. Living in a small isolated suburb in Jersey was not uncommon. They remembered vividly holding onto their mother’s hand at a young age–maybe even four–and beginning to learn the route to the bus stop from their house. It was so engraved in them by sixteen that they could have done it in their sleep. By seventeen, it served them no purpose. Everyone drove in Ontario.

Ian looked over at them. He didn’t comment, and Riley was thankful. Their friends knew they didn’t like talking about where they came from. It just stung to think of, the culture shock of a new place still setting in. Maybe it’d ease up once they moved into a bigger town.

Rob Zombie continued to pour into the silence, the lyrics roots in Hell, and only time will tell if your baby is insane being the particular ones Riley heard before speaking again.

“Do you mind if I sleep?” They asked. As they got tired, their accent slipped out more. The you sounding like a ya .

“I don’t mind. You can take a pillow from the back, I made sure to put one on top of the luggage Eve dumped us with,” he told them. Riley nodded, briefly unbuckling, removing the box of Turtles from between their legs, shutting the lid and placing it on the floor of the car. They then turned over, reaching for the pillow, carefully weaving it around to the front of the car.

It was their favourite pillow. It was one of the permanently cold ones, which cost extra, but they were sure it was worth it, especially with how hot the summer might get. They squished it some, breaking it in, feeling the gel underneath, before sliding it against the car door, buckling themself in and pulling their legs up, leaning their head into it, shutting their eyes.

“Wait, Riley, before you sleep,” Ian said. Something felt up with his voice, but not in a disturbing way. More like he had something funny to say.

“Hm?” Riley casually responded, rubbing their eyes and yawning.

“There’s some wataa in the back, if you need it as well.” He snickered, covering his mouth with his free hand as he was driving, clearly thinking he was a comedian.

Riley stifled the laugh, trying to remain serious in the moment. “Please be quiet,” they responded, breathing deeply to try and air the laugh out.

“If you’re so tired, I can always buy ya some cawfee …” Riley whacked his free hand, making the both of them erupt in laughter a second time. “Isn’t this how they do it in Nork ?” He managed to push out while he was absolutely being slaughtered by his own joke, cackling behind the wheel.

Riley wiped tears from their eyes, letting out a content sigh, slumber sneaking up on them all over again. They yawned, tilting their body to the side, head resting against the pillow.

“Good night, Ian,” Riley said a final time, shutting their eyes, evening out their breath, feeling sleep begin to overtake them.

“Good night, Riley,” he responded, leaning back as he continued down the mostly empty roads. He turned up the music just the slightest bit once he noticed Riley had drifted off, aware of how deep of a sleeper they’d become.

Aaaah, I see the dead in your eyes. Aaaah, I transform in the skies. Meet the Creeper! (Aaah) Meet the Creeper! (Aaah) Meet the Creeper! (Aaah) Meet the Creeper!

Chapter Text

Vanessa walked through the forest, bare feet crunching against stray sticks and leaves. It was freezing, her hitched breaths releasing steam into the air. She wasn’t dressed to bear the elements–having lost her coat some time ago. 

She shuddered and groaned, the feeling of her toe stubbing into a rock causing her to backpedal, her balance thrown off as she wobbled from the sheer amount of clumsiness she infused into her step. She eventually walked back up, crouching down.

She took interest because she’d felt how large the rock was when she bumped into it. It was a little smaller than a football, so evenly rounded and in an oval shape. It was still partially disguised by leaves, and something called her to reach forth and brush them off.

Painted on top the rock was a symbol that she found she could not recall when she dreamt of it once more. It was at this moment that she realised she was dreaming at all, but as she stared further into the rock it became clear. She was reliving an altered memory through her dream.

Whatever this symbol may be, it only enticed her more. She worked her fingers underneath the rock, dirtying underneath her nails and her fingertips, using her strength to flip it over. To her surprise, there actually was a hole. She had no clue how long ago the symbol had been painted. It had looked decently worn down, after all.

She squinted into the hole, but she couldn’t see anything. It was the dead of night. She couldn’t recall how or why she wandered out here, anyway. She looked around. The place wasn’t unfamiliar in the slightest. It was right by her house, and she could tell so by a shittily thrown together hut full of sticks and dirt her and Miles had built when they were years younger and never cared to tear down.

But why was she here? She tried to think about it, but the more the darkness overcast the forest, the more the thought of what was in the hole overtook her…the less she seemed to even care why she was out her. Her attention panned back.

It was horrifying. There was no telling its depth or its content. It felt like a small pocket of space, outside time, outside of this moment, just out of reach and hidden under some rock. It didn’t feel real. She didn’t trust it, yet something told her to reach in.

She put her hand in, squeezing her eyes shut, preparing for something to rip her cold skin to shreds and leave her to die in the night. But instead, she found the hole was rather shallow. She found that her hand had grazed against something as well.

She took a shaky breath, fumbling around before she closed it in her palm. It was a shiny stone. She rubbed her fingers over it, noticing it felt more like a polished gemstone if anything. It looked strangely like an eye, and she swore she could’ve seen it blink.

The same voice silently called out to her–it reached her soul, not her mind. It spoke in instinct, and not words. It told her to take the stone home. To hold onto it, and to wait.

She stood up, and suddenly the line between dream and memory became thick. A new element weaved its way in. What was once the quiet, eerie night, quickly turned dreadful and fearful. A voice echoed through, loudly and unmistakably somebody. A person was laughing, and for what?

The repetitive drone of their laughter went in circles, dizzying her. It began to drown out her thoughts, and the instinct. She felt her grip on the stone loosen, before the instinct shot back into her and she gripped it so tightly she felt her palms bleed.

The cold became even more uninviting. Her limbs were rigid, she felt drowsy and like it was the end. All she could hear was that cackling sound, and nothing else. Fluid began to pool in her lungs.

She woke up coughing, a choking feeling in her throat. Miles and Eve were already up, and looked to Vanessa. Vanessa’s first course of action was to check the time. It was around 3 A.M, which was a good sign that they were close. When she looked out the windows, all she saw was trees upon trees, and her ears adjusted to hearing the sound of gravel crunching under the tires. She relaxed, sinking into her seat once everything was well.

“Do you need an inhaler or something?” Miles said, turning in his seat to face her. She was sitting in the back, body bent around suitcases and luggage. He still carried that snark in his voice–and he was joking, too. She didn’t need an inhaler–but it seemed like there was an underlying sense of worry. He was trying to ask why she was coughing without outright saying it.

“I might just have a dry throat. Or I choked on my own spit when waking up.” She spun herself to be sitting upright again, grimacing as she finger combed through the hair that just got worse and worse the longer she went without a shower, brush, or straightener.

Miles relaxed after, immediately returning to himself. “Choking on your spit seems like you…you can’t even breathe right.” He adjusted himself so he was looking completely ahead, his shit eating grin hidden from her as she struck his seat.

“You can shut the fuck up, okay…I was laying at a weird angle.” She retorted. She was relieved they were starting a fake fight about this instead of speaking about her dream. She didn’t know how well she could lie when she was tired out of her mind.

“We’ve all slept at weird angles, ‘Ness…we just don’t fail really fuckin’ sadly. See, maybe you should’ve brought a meditation book. They have lots of breathing exercises.” He was so annoying. What was even more annoying was trying to not laugh, so the two could keep their fight going. Thankfully, Vanessa was a bit of a master at going stone faced. If she weren’t so disinterested in extracurriculars, she’d have been a theatre kid.

“Eve, how are you even alive?” Vanessa asked, deciding to shift away from their argument. Eve hadn’t slept the entire six hours, because doing driving rotations while Miles and Vanessa argued every other minute seemed like a bad idea, and she had volunteered to have done it. Somehow she made it through, no coffee, no energy drinks. Just pure free will or something or other.

“Do you mean how I’m not tired or how I haven’t been massacred in the cross-fire of an argument between you two?” She asked. Her voice was dry as always, but the joke landed. Vanessa wondered if before meeting them, Eve’sfriends thought she was rude. Or if her other groups even, from the athletic association, thought she was bitchy or stuck-up. She never asked, and Eve didn’t like disclosing anything about her other friends.

“Okay, don’t be so dramatic. We’re shouting, not…biting.” He lost steam near the end of his sentence, his brain kind of flatlining. 

“...Biting?” The two said in unison, one significantly more emotive than the other. Vanessa covered her mouth, laughing behind it, while Miles got embarrassed, going to explain himself.

“ Biting ?” She repeated, confusion in her voice causing it to waiver, alongside her giggling. Miles turned his head again, making eye contact with his sister and glaring her down while she started laughing even harder at his hardened gaze.

“It’s three in the goddamn morning wh–what the fuck am I supposed to say!?” He was still missing his hat–which she might have stepped on when entering the van–so he just ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. He was getting tired, so he was getting irritated. She wasn’t sure how much of it was genuine.

“Yeah, it is three in the morning,” she agreed, eyeing him up and down. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?” He had fallen asleep just like her, so why was he awake? He wasn’t driving. Did they run over a pothole and she had just not felt it?
The question seemed to trip Miles up, genuinely. He wasn’t looking all confused and stumped for the sake of it. He was trying to lie to her, but as he opened his mouth to say his lie, he saw Vanessa’s expression back. She looked offended.

“...Bad dream,” he admitted. “Ugh, fuck. Ignore that I said bad dream . I’m not five.” He quickly turned himself around, not wanting to face his sister anymore, staring ahead at the empty gravel roads and forest illuminated by the car’s lights.

She went silent for a minute. She felt bad, putting him on blast like that. She didn’t want to humiliate her brother, but his admission that he, too, was having a bad dream made her wonder. It made her wonder a bit too much, actually, brows furrowing as she went silent. She felt her gut drop. She didn’t want to rip them all apart.

Eve, probably the smartest, most aware of them all, cut through the silence. “Well, nightmare isn’t much better,” she said, comforting Miles on his word choice. “There’s no mature word for it because I think adults grow out of having nightmares.” She went silent, letting the crunching of gravel fill through the car like white noise. Suddenly, Vanessa realised.

“...You had the radio off the entire time we drove?” She questioned. She listened hard for any kind of music, but there was none. The two had been asleep for at the very least an hour, and she’d been driving on the highway, too. 

“Yeah. It was fucking up.” Curt, informative responses as always. No further information ever came out of her, eyes glued to the path in front of her. Grip on the steering wheel ever-firm yet meticulously relaxed.

Miles finally got a word in, recovering from what he deemed to be an embarrassing moment for himself–admitting the mildest vulnerability in the world. “Fucking up? How?” He looked over to Eve, reaching to turn the knobs on. In the strangest act they’d seen from her in a while, she slapped his hand away.

“Fuck. My bad,” she quickly apologised, both hands back on the wheel. “It’s just being weird and shit…I’d rather nobody touch it until I fix it. You know how I get about that stuff.” Eve was very headstrong. If something was her issue it was her issue, and she was determined to fix it alone. Odd she’d get so worked up over a radio, but it was likely the six and something hours of driving were getting to her.

They spent the rest of the drive in silence. Complete silence. No words, no music , obviously…it was like the three had all experienced something that soured the latter half of the drive, but each and every one refused to elaborate. As if all of them were blaming the atmosphere, the time, something else. Even if it all felt very wrong.

Vanessa leaned back against the luggage, a knot of nausea forming in her stomach. She traced her finger up and down her arm, trying to calm herself. In the quiet dark, nobody noticed her anxiety grow and spread. Her eyes cast to Miles and Eve.

Miles was her baby brother. She pretended to not get along, but she dreaded the idea of something awful happening to him. She had a looming fear of such that was building over the last year, and it began to feel more real. Bile pooled in the back of her throat. She felt like vomiting, cold shivers jolting through her body. She remained still, not wanting to cause alarm.

She remembered holding Miles when she was younger. She remembered carrying him around when she was no older than two. He was such a sleepy, fat baby, that her parents would just sit him in a baby carrier while she played tea party. At night, she’d demand to kiss him on the forehead before sleeping. Despite being only two years older, she couldn’t believe he was done highschool. She felt like a dishevelled parent about the whole ordeal.

Maybe it was just a bad dream. That’s all she could hope he meant. A regular bad dream.

She was allowed to escape her thoughts when she felt the car come to a sudden hitch, turning and pulling into a makeshift gravel parking lot. It had no lines, and could really only fit three cars–assuming everyone was a pitch perfect driver. She sighed in relief.

“Miles, pass me the flashlight,” she said. He began to retort with a no, not forgetting what she’d said before they took their break, but she just unbuckled herself and squeezed through the middle, leaning all the way over him for the flashlight.

“Hey–what–what the fuck are you doing? I was like, literally going to give it to you…you can fuckin’..sit down or something…” He tried swatting her away. The sound of Eve leaving the car was heard. She always got everything done efficiently, and quickly. The trunk popped open, Vanessa still wrestling with miles.

“You were not going to give it to me. Do you think I’m stupid?” Miles began to grin. “Please shut up,” she quickly added, knowing he had a dumbass comment for that one, too. He was stronger than her, and ended up elbowing her back to the backseat.

He did pass the flashlight, but he took a long time doing it. Their two flashlights were crowded by his feet, and Eve’s was strapped onto her person. He tossed it to her as well, and she clumsily caught it, exhaling. “...Thanks so much, Miles,” she said, sarcastically. Behaving normally helped her forget her worries. Pretend it was just another day.

“ Thank you so much, Miles ,” he mocked, sticking his tongue out at her. She flicked the flashlight on, shining it in his eyes. He brought up his arms to shield his eyes, crying out.

“OW! I don’t wanna go blind like you, dumbass! Stop shining that shit in my eyes!” He had unbuckled himself at this point, so he dramatically crashed into the back of the door, one arm over his eyes and the other clutching the fabric around his heart. Mirroring Ian, as he always did. The two took so much inspiration from one another.

Eventually, Miles just opened the door, sliding out of the car entirely, flipping Vanessa off as she flicked her flashlight to the floor of the backseat. 

She scanned it, locating her shoes. They were really just her favourite sandals, but they were better suited for walking than her slippers were. She swapped them, sliding her pink birkenstocks on. It was her favourite gift from her dad. He never knew what to get her, but at least he tried with that one. Shoes had lasted years, as well, so she couldn’t blame him.

She also found Miles’ hat, fishing that out from the bottom of a suitcase, just the brim sticking out. It was impossible to not spot the brim, because he had gotten it signed. Steve Yzerman , who was apparently the all-time best Red Wings player. She didn’t give a shit about hockey, so she couldn’t confirm or deny the claim. She tugged it out from underneath, inspecting it more under the flashlight.

Her anxieties slowly started creeping up on her, remembering how happy Miles had been. She wanted to stop remembering his joy, because she couldn’t shake the feeling something ominous was on the rise. Maybe it was because they were splitting. Maybe it’s because she’d be left alone, like she had been since she’d graduated. A knock on the window caused her to almost drop the flashlight and the hat.

She turned her head, seeing it was Miles. He, without warning, just ripped open the door, letting a suitcase fall onto him. It slid off, hitting the ground, and that did not bother him in the slightest. He held his hand out, doing the grabby motion with it. “Hat.”
She scoffed, lazily tossing the hat his way. He jumped on it like an animal, fumbling with it, tightening the cap through the mess of his curly hair. He then lifted the suitcase on the ground, before eyeing her. “Are you going to help us or just stare wearily at people’s belongings?”

She shot him a glare that she didn’t mean, idly grabbing the closest suitcase to her. It was Riley’s, and it was ginormous. She tugged it a bit, but she could barely get it moving.

“Did you hit your head in the back of the car? Lift an easier one…” He reached into the van, flicking her on the head. Another car pulled into the lot, and it was clearly Ian. He was driving like a sane, rational human for the first time in maybe his entire life, but nobody else could’ve gotten here but them.

Riley and Ian stepped out. Ian’s car had functioning lights–unlike Eve’s van–which caused the entire inside of the car to light up as they stepped out, filling the air around them with a faint glow. No flashlights needed. The two looked peaceful, and happy. Must be nice , Vanessa mused privately.

She picked up a much smaller suitcase, sliding out, pushing past Miles. She had left her slippers behind. They’d have to do multiple runs anyway. 

Eve was standing right at the beginning of the path to the camp. It seemed to have signs, at the very least. She had a strange setup. She wore two backpacks–one on each shoulder. In one hand, she held the handle for a wagon. Within the wagon, were three upright suitcases. In her other hand, she held a flashlight. Vanessa assumed she’d be discarding this, because right by Eve’s feet was another suitcase.

“Jesus Christ,” Ian commented. “Do you…want help?” He offered, popping his trunk open. Most of their luggage was bags rather than suitcases, because Riley and Ian clearly packed smarter than everyone else on this trip. Miles and Vanessa really only had suitcases back at their home. Nobody knew why Eve had packed so many. Seemingly to the brim, as well.

“I’ll be putting the flashlight in my mouth, so…what would be helpful is not asking me any questions.” Instructions were instructions at the very least. 

Ian shrugged, putting bags on bags across his arms. He went to put one around his neck, but Miles stopped him. Miles wore a backpack, dragging two suitcases across the gravel, their wheels likely getting grinded to dust in the very moment.

“Bro, what’re you doing? S’like you’re stupid…” He said every word laughing. He was back to being himself. No longer did he have bad dreams. He just made fun of his friends for being stupid and they did the same back.
“Durrr,” he responded, going limp in his dramatic fashion, his eyes zoning out. Miles shoved him, cackling like a witch as he always did.

“Man, shut the fuck up!” He said, and Ian stumbled, but clearly just because it would be funnier in the moment–and moved him closer to Eve. He carefully made sure to not bump into her.

Vanessa held onto the final few suitcases and bags, only one left in the van. It was Riley’s. She walked over to Riley, who was currently holding a few bags with their arm. In true Riley fashion, they had just been quiet this whole time, a small smile on their face, content to observe and bask in each other's presence.

“Hey,” she said, smiling. “Can you end up dragging your suitcase?” Riley sighed, looking like the notion bummed them out, but walked over anyway. 

“I am so weak, but I’ll try.” They smiled a little, pulling out the suitcase. It’s wheels roughly tumbled to the ground. Vanessa wrapped more bags around her arm, adjusting it so she held onto the suitcase with her right hand. She walked to Riley, gripping their suitcase with her right arm.

They dragged it together, pulling up behind the entire group. 

“Alright,” Eve said. “I’ll lead the way.” Eve flicked the police flashlight on, sticking it in their mouth, holding onto the suitcase they left on the floor. They dragged the wagon and the extra suitcase, moving with a quick pace.

Everyone hobbled to catch up. Out of respect for Eve, they chatted rather politely. No screaming or arguing. Just Vanessa and Riley talking about looking forward to the beach and Miles and Ian saying remember when… and then outright lying about one another for comedy.

After several turns and a single hill, they winded up on a path. It lead further into the forest, but to the left of the path, there were three cabins. To the right, there were also three cabins. Eve put down the suitcase, ripping the flashlight out her mouth.

“Okay…six cabins, five people…we all get our own cabin. Cool? Cool.” She decided everything in that moment, likely exhausted from the drive. She pulled her wagon over to the furthest cabin on the left. A dusty sign on the front read Blue , although the cabin was not blue at all. In fact, every single cabin seemed to have a ROYGBIV name, replacing the IV for the more common purple . “Suitcase is yours, Miles!” Eve shouted, referencing the one she left on the ground. The lights in her cabin flicked on.

The group looked around in silence for a bit, before Ian decided to speak up.

“Did you guys…do something?” He asked, frowning and looking around at them. With Eve’s flashlight gone, only the dim glow from the cabin lights illuminated their faces.

Miles and Vanessa shook their heads nearly in unison. Vanessa, being the more logical and reasonable and least likely to piss someone off of the two, decided to speak up. “I mean, she’s been driving for near 6 hours straight…I’d be tired too,” she reasoned, still holding onto Riley’s suitcase.

Ian cracked his neck. “Mm…yeah. We should all head to sleep, anyway.” He gave them a tired smile, waving everyone off. He looked like he assumed they were lying underneath it, but he, too, was too weary to question it. He began walking off to Yellow , directly across from Eve.

They slowly began splitting up and filing off, organising their respective luggage. Vanessa to Red , Riley to Green , and Miles to Purple . Orange was decidedly the lamest colour, although nobody was truly thinking of which cabin when they filed off.

Vanessa was walking up with Riley to Green . Their hands were both locked onto the handle as they dragged the heavy suitcase alongside one another, grinning. Riley flicked on their flashlight, although it was quite small and not very useful.

They reached for the door, but it lacked a doorknob. They just leaned into it, and it opened on its own. They raised a brow. “...Seems so secure…” They joked, but unease littered every syllable.

“Hey, it’s only us out here,” Vanessa reminded them, gently bumping into them and smiling. They gave a more earnest smile back, the two squeezing in side-to-side. “It’d be crazy if my parents spent all this money for it to not even be private…” She continued, letting go of the suitcase when they were both inside, flicking the lights on.

“Thank you so much, Vanessa…” Riley said, turning to her. They lowered their voice, walking closer. “I’ve never said it, but you’re welcoming in ways you don’t know. You helped me get so much familiar with everyone else and…thank you for that, too.” Riley gave her a hug.

She couldn’t tell if Riley was sleep deprived, but it touched her. Riley had joined senior year, and Vanessa had been welcomed the same year. She kind of gravitated towards them for a reason she could never pinpoint. They got close, despite not even attending the same school. Vanessa never knew she was welcoming though, and it was a bit of an intense emotion to be told so extremely suddenly. But she smiled, and hugged back.

“...Thank you…Riley. See you in the morning.” They waved her off, and Vanessa broke from the hug, making the way to her cabin with urgence.

Talking to Riley, thinking about her friends. It circled back to Miles and his nightmare. The instinct returned, calling her again. She didn’t know if it was the instinct, or her instinct. She didn’t have time to tell. She just knew she had to get back to her cabin.

She slammed her body into the door, which swung around like a madman as she entered, suitcases and bags clutched within her arms. She dropped her flashlight on the floor, dropping her suitcase soon after and picking up the flashlight immediately afterwards.

Vanessa sat in the dark, the flashlight tight in her grip, but it remained off. She leaned over the suitcase, not touching a single thing. Not yet. She waited until the glow outside completely faded, listening in for the flick of each light to turn off. It didn’t take too long.

She sat here, alone. Just herself. Her breath was shaky. She didn’t know why she was doing this, but she saw its inherent value. She ripped her clothes out of the suitcase, fumbling through until she reached the mesh pocket within the suitcase. She unzipped it, reached within, and pulled out her prized possession.

A shiny stone. It resembled an eye.

Chapter Text

Six in the morning. The sun had slowly creeped over the trees, casting light through the foliage, pouring through the poorly built mesh windows of each cabin. The gentle wind of the morning was not only felt but heard in small wisps.

Eve had been up for an hour. She always got up at roughly five in the morning, because she had to be somewhere by five-thirty. Something she had to do. Five-thirty in the morning, eight-thirty at night. Two times she had chosen because they were private. Secretive away from people.

Yet at six o’clock in the morning, Eve had not done what she needed to do. Instead, she was stressed. She had neatly gone through all her belongings and set them up over the past hour, but she was also looking for something as she unpacked and organised the cabin. 

It was surprisingly well sized, but the only thing left in hers was a bunk bed with the top half missing, wear and tear worming their way into the wood. She thought it was adequate enough as she also noticed there were no hooks, or any semblance of a closet. 

She opened one of her suitcases so both halves were sun-up, folding all her clothes in it and stacking them as though it was a mini-drawer or dresser. Any other person doing it would have assuredly fucked it up, but Eve always seemed to have it all figured out.

But time was ticking. She tucked a loose strand of her light hair behind her ear. It wasn’t tied up, and now that was bothering her. She tied her hair in a bun with shaky hands before she realised what must have happened. She scanned the room before she felt relieved–there was a bag she hadn’t even noticed. Surely they were in there.

But the relief faded quickly when she noticed that the bag was Miles’ bag. Reality began to seep in, and she realised she must have given him the wrong bag out due to her lethargic state last night. She cursed herself in her head, eyes tracing to her watch.

Five past six. Miles couldn’t have awoken by now. She was still in her pyjamas, but it didn't matter. She walked to where she’d placed all her footwear, sliding on her crocs. They were a deep blue, and she preferred them plain–all the gibits she owned were gifts from Riley.

She pushed through the door. It opened easily, as it always did, and without a creak. Surely the hinges would have rusted by now, but the door was as silent as ever and felt lighter than a grape to push. She eyed the poorly done fishnet on the doors, which had thankfully not ripped, and made her way over to Miles’ cabin. It was Purple , and seeing that everything was organised in a rainbow fashion, that meant it was right across from hers.

However, as she approached, made her way past the small lounging deck outside the door, then down the cabin steps, she noticed Miles was awake. Not only was he awake, but he was sitting on a bench of his lounging deck. And he’d been looking at her cabin. Her heart beat quickly. This was the worst possible outcome there could have ever been, but she refused to be a coward.

She wanted to just turn around and slam the door, but she couldn’t. Cowering away was the wrong thing to do, and they’d see each other later in the day. She couldn’t avoid talking all day. She had been standing still, but she finally moved closer, walking up the rickety steps and staring down at him.

“How long have you been up?” She questioned him. She couldn’t believe he’d only gotten three hours 0f sleep. Miles slept like a monster, and everyone else was bound to sleep until lunch at the very least.

“Can we go for a walk?” He asked. His voice was weak. She couldn’t exactly discern what emotion he was feeling, but he sounded like he felt the same–the underlying theme that he was lost echoed through his one measly sentence.

“Sure,” Eve said. She didn’t know if she wanted to. She wanted to continue to ask him why he was up, to ask to be let into his cabin and frantically search around, but she’d do what he asked. It unnerved her seeing him like this anyway. She kept her stoic face, trying to look unbothered despite the knots in her stomach.

Miles led her out of the cabin area. Following the stone path that was swamped and near-hidden by grass led them out of the woods to an open clearing. The sun fully shone down on the area, but the early warmth of the morning felt strange. Discomforting, unfitting to the situation. Placed in the otherwise open space were two picnic tables, fully overgrown.

In the distance, there was a small break in the trees. Likely a path leading further into the forest. Eve eyed it, before noticing Miles went to sit down on a picnic table. It was far enough that they could talk without ease, but if it escalated to yelling, someone would be disturbed.

When it was just the two, Miles took out a small bottle from his hoodie pocket, holding it out to Eve. She quickly snatched it from his grasp, scanning the label with her eyes. Eve Naude. It truly was her pills. She had no pockets, being dressed in pyjamas. She just tightened her hold around the bottle, concealing it within her palm.

“You…” He trailed off for a bit, face blank as he tried to collect his thoughts. She didn’t know what he felt like saying, so she remained quiet. She let him compose himself, and find the words. Her eyes never left his person. “...You don’t have to say anything, man. I want to be upset but it’s…I can’t get mad you didn’t tell me. I’d be a dickhead.”

Eve sighed. She didn’t want to brush him off. Although she could. She had full permission to walk away and leave and pretend it never happened, but she knew that’s not what he wanted her to do. He wanted some kind of explanation. After all, why wouldn’t she have told them–especially him?

They’d all watched her suffer. She remembered the days after an episode. The way they treated her differently, as if they were afraid. She’d go from calm and collected to paranoid and afraid. Some days she’d never leave her bed, and times she’d go days without sleeping. These events were few and far between, and she tried her best to bury her emotions in day to day life. When it all stopped, everyone was grateful. She didn’t want to explain what didn’t need to be explained–all everyone needed to know was that she was past whatever that was.

“I didn’t tell you because it wasn’t important,” she said, and her voice didn’t drop her usual flat tone. It was uncomfortable saying this, and she didn’t want to list the real reason. She didn’t tell him that she thought putting words to her behaviour only made it sound scarier. She just said it wasn’t important .

He seemed to grimace at that sentence. “I mean…you can say it’s not fuckin’ important to you, but I just…” He rubbed his face, sighing. “I thought we were closer than that, I guess.”

That kind of kicked at her, striking a nerve. She wasn’t angry at him for saying it, but it made her defensive. She didn’t usually express emotion, but she shot back, actual anger tracing her words. “You’re the closest friend I have, and you know it, so don’t say stupid shit like that.” Her quickness to respond and harsh words made him regret what he said instantly, which made her regret being so aggressive. She let silence fill the air, tension building while she tried to work up the nerve to explain herself. It was Miles, after all. She trusted him more than anybody else.

She didn’t think he’d judge her–which was honestly her biggest fear. Knowing she was on medication, what if it made him worry? What if he was scared of what would happen if she missed a pill? She thought it was all irrational and stupid, but people often were irrational and stupid. Even Miles. Even if he didn’t mean it, he could still subconsciously believe she was some kind of monster, controlled only through medication.

Eventually, she decided to speak anyway. She wasn’t making things any better by making them both sit in their shitty, awkward silence. It was, if anything, making it all worse. “My parents didn’t want to talk about it,” she began, jumping right in. She was keen on making it brief. Dwindling on it would only upset her. “And one night, my mom’s sister–her whole family was over. Husband, cousins…all of that.” 

She didn’t remember it too clearly. She was decently on and off with remembering what had happened when she was going through an episode, but this one simply had muddied waters. Like trying to see your reflection in a puddle of rainwater. The most she could remember in detail was everyone being confused . Specifically her aunt.

She hadn’t understood at first. She had been even a little horrified–unable to understand why her high-achieving athletic niece, who was always well-mannered and calm, was now a dysfunctional mess. Paranoid out of her mind, insisting something was after her to the point of tears. Lacking the social awareness to understand how deeply she was scaring everyone else. Despite all of it, she tried to conceal her confusion, and tried to comfort her.

“My parents continued to shrug it off. My aunt got angry about it, insisting I had to see someone. This was right before I dropped everything,” she added, trying to add a timeframe in there somewhere. She figured that was a good point of reference. She’d dropped all her sports in the attempt to let herself figure it all out, under her aunt’s advice.

“My parents are so passive I always wondered how I turned out this way, but my aunt was so direct and determined. I remember spending hours in offices just listening to her talk to doctors.”

Miles felt a bit bad asking, but he was glad that she was comfortable saying the entire thing. He didn’t ask for more detail. He was content with knowing what he got to know, but he did briefly interrupt her. He gestured to the rest of the bench right beside him. It was completely empty, nobody sitting with him. “Come sit. I feel like I’m at, like, a TED talk.” He laughed awkwardly. He didn’t know what to say, but he didn’t want the mood to be so bleak and foreign.

She didn’t respond to his comment–she normally didn’t. But it was clear she took little offence, going to sit down beside him, continuing her story. She felt awkward being stared up at anyhow, so this was a good solution.

“So, after all that, they put a name to it. Well, they put a lot of names to it before they picked one.” She leaned back, the table part of a picnic table supporting her back as she gazed up to the sky, carefully avoiding looking right into the sun. “Bipolar, schizophrenia, psychosis…a lot of stuff was said. I didn’t really feel there when they were talking about it.”

She didn’t continue her train of thought for a while, but it didn’t feel human. People passing around diagnoses, using words you’d never thought of or understood and attaching them to your experiences. To you . It was foreign, but she couldn’t do much about it except try to slip from reality, pretend as though she weren’t really sitting in that doctor’s office. That she wasn’t really whatever they said she was. Like she could wake up and go back.

“Eventually, they said schizoaffective disorder , gave me three different kinds of pills, and sent me on my way.” She fiddled with the bottle in her hand. It was just one of the three kinds she had to take, but she packed them all in separate bags. It lowered the risk of losing all of them. One bag goes missing? She wouldn’t be left completely sinking.

The silence continued to grow. She began to worry about Miles hating her. Little got to her. Little broke through her expression, but the idea that they’d all look at her like they used to made her chest tight. 

She simmered in the tense quiet, before Miles opened his mouth to talk. She knew he knew very little about mental illness–really, they all did. Eve had been forcefully taught, expected to learn when she was thrown into the months-long process of trying to undo this all.

“But you didn’t like, get therapy? Like, no offence, but after all that shit I’d fuckin’ go into therapy so fast.” He was awkwardly tugging at his hands, looking over to her. His smile looked more genuine, but he was still using humour as his fallback. Trying to inject levity to calm himself.

She just shook her head. “It wasn’t covered by my parents' healthcare plans, and they didn’t care to pay for it.” She then gave a lousy shrug. “After that, I just moved out. Now I have my own place. It’s not easy, but I just realised they’ll never want what’s good for me.” She tried to say it without being so bitter, but she couldn’t help it. It was a tough realisation to make. Her head clear for the first time in years, she had laid there.

She had wondered why everyone ignored it. Why nobody said anything, or tried anything. She’d almost felt gaslit, like this was normal. With her friends, she was collected as she could be, but at home she was a wreck near every day. Nobody said anything. She barely got a glance in her direction as she broke down day after day.

She didn’t want to ask them why–they wouldn’t have had a response anyways. She admitted they had done it because they didn’t care. They ignored it because they could. If she were going to be ignored, she didn’t want to live under their house. Their rules. She never wanted to owe them anything. She made herself fully independent, putting distance between her and her parents.

It was difficult, and lonely, but she wanted what was best for herself. She’d never thrive with them around. 

Miles sighed. “Damn, man.” He didn’t know what else to say. He knew Eve wasn’t affectionate physically. She wouldn’t have wanted a hug or anything. But for Eve, she was content at this moment. Happy he wasn’t afraid. He wasn’t recoiling at the large words, addressing her as though she was foreign. He was just there for her.

They’d talk about something else later. Probably what they were going to do for groceries. Just idle chatter to fill the space before everyone else woke up. But not yet. For right now, they sat there together. Eve began to laugh a little.

Miles raised his brow to that. “What’s funny?” He was genuinely confused, but he smiled himself, accidentally mirroring her emotion–catching her laughter as though it were a cold.

“Nothing,” she said, calming her laughter with a deep inhale. “Just relieved.”

He must have caught onto her insecurities as she’d rambled on beforehand, because he responded without needing any kind of clarification. “I wouldn’t see you differently over some shit like that. Like you said. You’re the closest friend I’ve got.” He lightly punched her in the arm. She didn’t even flinch. “To be honest, I’m just happy y’know…your minds clear, and all that.”

Eve nodded. “Me too,” she said simply. From there, conversation truly did flatline. Time spent in silence. Breathing in the air, contemplating. Soon they’d change. Soon everyone’s circadian rhythm would have them awake. As of now, the only thing awake were Miles, Eve, and the earth around them. 

Chapter Text

Ian awoke. He hadn’t had time to change into pyajamas. He nearly collapsed from exhaustion earlier, not realising how draining the drive had been until his body embraced the semi-rigid but decently inviting hold of a budget mattress. They were slightly plasticky, covered in some strange blue wrap…but laying his blankets on top of it all made it comfortable, especially due to the fact the plastic dipped in the middle, allowing some sort of burrowing sensation.

His t-shirt was completely drenched in sweat. It must have gotten hot once the sun rose, because the humidity poured into the room, feeling like a second blanket, smothering him. He slowly sat up, sliding the blanket off of him. Due to his large size and the rather incompatible bunks, he had to place a hand on the bottom of the bunk above, cautiously reminding himself to not hit his head. He weaved it through, before standing up. He couldn’t tell the time–he didn’t have a watch. The sun streaming through was enough to tell him it was an appropriate hour to be up.

Another thing that told him this was the stream of idle chatter heard from outside. It sounded like nearly everyone else was up. Ian liked to sleep. He was the only one who hadn’t attempted a part-time job at any point through high-school. He figured Miles would be the only one asleep. He snickered to himself, picturing it now. Flipped on his stomach, hat clumsily slid off, snoring like a loon, arm dangled over the side of the bed. He remembered distinct memories of literally shaking him awake.

His attire for the day was so basic one might call it near identical. He sported a duplicate pair of jeans–same brand, same cut–and a Linkin Park shirt. It featured a drawing from the animated music video for Breaking The Habit –the song’s name inscribed underneath. His lapel pin remained, the flower resting upon his chest. He began to wonder what he’d do with his hair. He’d sworn to grow it out, and it’d grown fast. 

Not having much else to do, he pushed out of his cabin. Despite the sunlight disturbing his rest and flowing into the rest of the room, it barely poked out on the actual trail. He figured his window just must be in a shitty spot, evading the shade of the trees so very narrowly. He also found it was much less hot. He stretched for a long while, feeling as though his joints clicked into place, letting out a content sigh when it was done.

He was looking to find Riley, and luckily for him, they were searching, too. The camcorder was grasped firmly in their hand. Riley’s hair was loosely tied up in a ponytail, making the purple shine further through the bleak sunlight. They were already dressed, but hadn’t made an attempt to try with their hair at the moment, just shoving it out the way.

They handed the camcorder to him. He was tired, but he’d help anyway, rubbing at his eyes and flicking the little screen open. He eyed through it. “...Everything looks fine?” He said, tilting his head lightly.

“I know, right?” They said, frowning. They walked to his side, taking the camcorder from him and flicking through photos. The ones in the car had the distinct purple distortion, but photos of the inside of their cabin–ones they’d taken last night–had no such distortion. They had also taken photos of each of the cabins this morning, getting everyone to pose in front of them. Of the four currently taken, only one had the purple hue. The one of Eve outside her cabin. “It just picks randomly,” they said, frowning. “Doesn’t make any sense why it’s happening…” They scrunched up their face, confused and a little tired at their predicament.

“Ah, don’t worry about it,” he reassured, patting them on the back and taking the camcorder back, folding it shut and holding it in his grip. “I’ll spend the day with it trying to fix it.” He lightly pulled at their hair, grasping the ponytail in his hands and eyeing it. “Go and like brush up and stuff. Not that you’re ugly–just that you should take some time to get ready.”

Riley let the worry wash out of their face, taking a deep breath. “You’re right. Day one, and I’m stressing.” They let out a breathy laugh, doing a thumbs-up. A small bracelet lined their wrist. It had some writing that he couldn’t properly read inscribed in it, carefully etched into the gold.

“Yeah. What’s that say?” He questioned, gesturing to the bracelet, trying to ease them and move their mind from their camera troubles, so they could function better during the day, not letting whatever this oddity was hold them back.

“Oh! Uhm, anth bhala, toh sab bhala.” They recited the words so easily, with such precision. It baffled Ian, because they never spoke anything but English around them. He was clearly taken aback, his face as easy to read as a book. His eyes widened ever-so-slightly, and his jaw hung open subtly. As if the muscles simply relaxed too much. They picked up on his confusion, going to quickly clarify. “-It means all is well if the end is well . Also, I speak exclusively Hindi at home…sorry to, uhm, alarm you.” They tucked a loose strand of hair behind their ear.

“No, no worries about it. I just…I got a really stupid face. I never look like I know what’s going on,” he joked, smiling. He then gently pushed them away. They waved him bye, and he did the same as Riley scuttered off to their cabin.

He walked with a bit of purpose–a stride in his step, moving alongside the path. He found everyone situated in a clearing, gathered around the picnic table. Their once muffled and mild stream of chatter grew louder and louder, even legible as he inched closer.

“-And did you sleep in that, or just wear the same clothes when you woke up?” It was unmistakably Vanessa, chewing out Miles for something or other. Miles looked like he wasn’t taking any offence. He was grinning from ear to ear, even occasionally doing a hand to mock her talking. 

Vanessa’s hair looked frizzy. No outlets in the cabin, no straightener. Her natural hair was growing back, traces of curls in the damaged wreck, just as he had traces of a haircut forming from his previously buzzed cut.

Eve wasn’t there, and ended up sneaking up on him. Not through any actual intent, but just a slight bump in the shoulder. She must not have been properly looking to where she was going. She was dressed as she usually was; some kind of button up shirt opened with a t-shirt or a crop top worn underneath. Today she wore a black button up with a white floral print, and a graphic t-shirt that read Life’s a beach in a fun font, a gradient of a yellow sun on top of a pink background. Also paired with her attire was a watch. As she was mumbling a brief sorry , he got a look at the time.

Around eight in the morning. He was surprised everyone had gotten up this early, but he supposed the sun decided to make itself a problem for everyone this morning. He waved her apology off with a don’t worry about it! and continued alongside her to the picnic table, where Vanessa and Miles were now pressed about a completely different ordeal.

“Then give me the–” Vanessa clocked Eve approaching, head whipping to her. “Eve!” She shouted, almost accusatory. Eve looked genuinely spooked for a moment, before any trace of emotion dripped from her face. A return to stoicism.

“What?” She asked, placing her hands in her ripped jean shorts. Her brow raised a bit, likely confused what Vanessa could want so early in the morning.

Forever an emotional mirror, Ian raised a brow as well. What could she want? Maybe she just wanted her to mediate the fight between her and Miles–Ian noticed that she did such frequently. She never called on him for advice, likely because he’d be trapped to never pick.

“I need your keys,” she said, walking over. Her voice was pointed–stubborn. There was no room for another choice. It was an attitude Miles brought with him frequently. Set on the one path, refusing to change once he was positive in what he wanted. “ Miles thinks we can live without food.”

Miles got up, putting his hands up like he had just been arrested, letting out a disbelieving snort at her accusations. “Okay, I just said we’d need to buy groceries. I told everyone we’d need to! It’s why we pooled money!” He rolled his eyes, but quickly turned his attention to Ian, speaking again before Vanessa had a chance. “Mornin’ Ian. You should go with this fuckin’ tornado, eh? She’ll buy the cheapest shit and make us eat like garbage if you let her shop alone.”
Ian gasped a little, the drama jumping into him the moment Miles began speaking. He entered a completely different mindset; his effect as an ‘emotional mirror’ was much more in effect every time he was around Miles. A nearly infectious feeling. “How could you say something so rude to your baby sister…” His lips pressed against each other, pursing as he tried to keep a laugh from escaping.

Vanessa’s eyes slowly drifted to him, and he glanced back for a brief second, noticing her eye twitch. “You’re both insufferable. Can I not go with Eve?” She asked, putting a hand on her hip, pushing a huffed breath through her lips. 

Miles whacked her in the arm with the back of her hand. Her arms were entirely bare, Vanessa wearing a white tank top, paired with a pink skirt that stopped a few inches above the knees, tightened with a rather casual belt. She had tied the shirt a bit, so her belly button piercing wasn’t concealed underneath. He didn’t know if she liked to show it off, or if it simply felt uncomfortable to be under clothing. Nevertheless, it was exactly what he’d have expected her to wear, despite the fact they were living outdoors for the entirety of the summer.

“ Can I go with Eve ?” Miles repeated. “No. I told you like, two fucking seconds ago–but whatever–that I wanted to take Riley around ‘cause they like sightseeing and shit, and I want Eve there incase someone falls and dies.” He wasn’t actually angry with Vanessa, and that was clear, but the two were getting snippy with each other. It was likely due to the fact they were spending such close quarters together for the first time in a while. Vanessa worked quite a lot, and wasn’t home. Miles being around was new. But it also seemed like something else was grinding her gears. He’d have liked to talk to her and figure out why she was so angry. 

“Yeah,” Ian chimed in, before Vanessa could escalate. “We’ll take my car. I’ll drive.” He did a thumbs-up, and smiled a little when he realised he’d accidentally mirrored Riley. Who, coincidentally, showed up after that.

They had neatly brushed through their hair, even braiding it. They then swung the braid over their shoulder, it magically remaining in place with the bounce and beat of every single step. They folded their hands in front of them, the head tilt of confusion rearing its head yet again.

“What’s going on?” They questioned, eyes flicking around the circle. They probably caught the wave of tension similar to Ian, so they asked softly. Not that Riley wasn’t typically a well-mannered and polite person.

“Miles is going to get dressed, and then me and Vanessa are going grocery shopping,” Ian filled in for them. He figured he was the best person to explain. Eve would have been an alright choice, but they had quietly vanished once again, before returning with a Blue Jays hat. It was freaky how silent she was being.

“Hey,” Miles scowled after his words. “These are not pyjamas.” He crossed his arms, eyeing up to his significantly taller friend.

“You slept in them,” he pointed out, flicking the centre of Miles’ chest, which received a pssh noise in response. Miles was about to walk off, before Riley opened their mouth.

“You did?” They asked. Unfortunately, due to it being the early hours of the morning, and you being a particularly difficult word to kick the accent from, it sounded a lot like ya.
“Ya,” everyone said in response, sounding like a mocking chorus. Each had a significantly different tone, ranging from flat to jokingly mocking. Riley gave the largest eye roll possible.

Before they could say anything, Miles pushed through his friend group, speeding around to get to his cabin.

Like clockwork, Vanessa began moving too, heading down the path, likely going off towards his car. She carried almost an air of anger around her, like hot air in the midst of a tornado. Perhaps Miles’ previous description of her behaviour was more accurate than once believed.

Ian went to leave, patting his pocket and securing that his keys were there. He felt the distinct lump of a car key, and his shoes began clicking across the stone pathway. Riley quickly reached out and grabbed his arm, looking up to him. “Please remember–I want to get a photo of you in front of your cabin today.” He looked back into their eyes, and recognised anxiety pooling within. They were likely stressed, unable to think about anything but their quality issues.

He gestured to the camcorder in his other hand, trying to ease their anxiety. “I’ll remember. I’ll keep this in my car while we’re shopping, alright?”

They eased their hold on his arm, letting go entirely and moving back to the group with a reluctant pace. Ian, however, began jogging, hurrying to catch up with Vanessa.

Once they finished the stone path, feet crunching against the gravel parking area where they’d left their cars, Ian had caught up with Vanessa. Being so much taller, he took wider strides with his feet, able to quickly catch up with her. 

“You’ll be driving a while,” she said, clearly grumpy. She fidgeted with her lip piercings, brows furrowed. “The one summer I spent here was only tolerable because I wasn’t buying anything.” She exhaled angrily.

He unlocked the car without a word, and she quickly slid in and slammed the door, fastening her seatbelt and crossing her arms overtop. He exhaled, thinking for a moment about what to say before getting in his respective end and buckling himself in. He leaned back, putting the camcorder in the backseat, letting it rest there.

“Something bothering you?” He’d ask it anyway, even if it was obvious. He drummed his fingers across the steering wheel, awkwardly making noise, hands on the wheel before he’d even begun the engine.

A pause. “Ugh,” she said, before sighing heavily. Vanessa hadn’t liked to get too close to anyone, he observed. Probably due to her busy schedule, and coping with her friends all going off to university. She was left in town, alone, picking up the pieces of her now-shattered life, and getting a job.

There was another beat of silence, and Ian put the key in, ready to just start the car. He assumed she just didn’t want to talk about it. Just a day before, Riley had exerted similar patience when it came to talking with his mother. He wanted to be there for Vanessa like Riley had been there for him.

“I just have such a bad feeling about this trip,” she blurted out. He was about to turn the keys, but stopped, eyeing over her. She groaned, putting her hands up to cover her face when she saw that he had paused. “It’s a long drive,” she quickly said. “You can start driving.”

“Alright.” He did as asked, starting the car and beginning to pull it out onto the road. He kicked into his usual speed of driving. Vanessa never minded it, so he felt fine going fast. “I’ll need you to navigate me.”

“No problem. It’s just a bunch of winding roads out here. You’ll have to make like, three turns maximum…” She moved her hands from her face, awkwardly rubbing at one of her shoulders. “Just been having a lot of bad dreams. Worrying about Miles a lot.”

“I can see that,” he agreed. “We’re all leaving for college, soon. But I never figured he’d be the college kind.” Miles could have easily gone to college if he wanted. He was no genius, but he got average grades. The lowest he’d gotten this year was a C+, feasible enough for any college.

“Not just college. Just life in general. Highschool to being a working adult is…strange.” She had moved her hands from her shoulders and began picking at her nails. Her gaze wasn’t resting on one specific space. She was talking to him, but her mind was clearly somewhere else. He didn’t want to push her, so he let her talk about whatever she felt comfortable with sharing.

“Yeah. I don’t even know if I want to head off to university,” he admitted. He couldn’t bear to leave his mother. It felt wrong. She had raised him here. She had died, stopped in her tracks, and he could just move on? He could simply escape the town, continue to grow and sprout where she had wilted. It didn’t feel right.

“What?” She said suddenly, her mind snapping back into the moment. “That’s…that’s such a waste!” She frowned, eyeing him up and down. She seemed genuinely upset about him. He couldn’t have said he wasn’t anticipating a negative response, but how adamantly she opposed it struck him. He stuttered, not expecting to have to defend himself so harshly.

“I–I mean…yeah? It’s a weighted decision. I don’t know. And…uhm, no offence, but you’re kind of…well, like, kettle calling pot black, right?” He shrugged a little, the car continuing to drive down the seemingly endless road. They came up to an intersection.

“Left,” Vanessa said, like it was programmed into her, before picking up her sentence again. “I guess so. I just…the reasons I decided not to go are weird to explain. I’m sure it’s different from your reasoning.” She fidgeted with the seatbelt. “In most universities…in realities separate from this, I’d be off at university right now. Or, like, I’d be at my parent’s house. But I’d be visiting, and not a resident.” She sighed, leaning back. She ran a finger through her hair. “I wanted to go, is all. I think it’s strange that you don’t.”

He turned left. He caught on that all her vague wording were hints to not ask about the particular incident. He didn’t find their situations comparable anyway. He felt weighted down by family, a guilt rising in him and chaining him to the ground that was his town. 

“I wish I could say I probably will, but I genuinely don’t know. It’s, uhm…loaded.” He drummed at the steering wheel, plunging down another long stretch of the road. It felt weirdly dreadful, seeing no other cars.

A silence fell over the two. He really wanted to ask about her decision, but she clearly did not want to talk about it. The stalemate, born out of respect, stretched out for several minutes. The dead air was only occupied by Hellbilly Deluxe . He hadn’t bothered to remove the CD since the drive yesterday.

“How often do we want to make this drive?” Ian asked, figuring she’d be the most irritable or concerned about the grocery store situation. She seemed to be relieved that they were done with the college talk, straightening herself out.

“Every other week. There’s eight weeks in two months, so…four trips.” She let out a small hum while in thought. “There’s five of us, so we’ll randomly pick the one person who doesn’t have to pay for groceries.” 

“Sounds good.” They lapsed into silence again. Ian knew Vanessa would already have a mental list of what to pack knowing that they were shopping for two weeks, and Ian trusted her nutritional judgement. At least, he trusted her far more than Miles.

The rest of the drive did stretch on long, Vanessa chiming in to tell him when to turn. He spent the ride thinking about their talk, and her demeanour. She’d evened out now, but he knew it was not gone. Merely buried, ready to rise at the slightest trigger.

They pulled into town. The town was quite quaint, and pleasant to view. It had a distinctly riverside feeling to it. Small townside houses sandwiched in between local buildings. It really felt a parallel opposite to a metropolis; not a single business was a brand name. Ian broke through the quiet to talk to Vanessa again.

“Feels like a town in another universe, yeah?” he commented. He had slowed down a great deal, not wanting to blaze through the town and have to turn around. 

Vanessa nodded. “Almost like we could go missing. Grocery store’s there.” She pointed to the largest building of them all. It looked nothing like a grocery store, lacking the large windows he associated with the kind of market. It didn’t have a sign, either. He pulled into the parking lot. It was empty, save for two other cars. 

Ian was honestly a little unnerved. His instinct told him that he shouldn’t have got out, but Vanessa did without a second thought. He followed suit.

They went inside. It had fluorescent lights, just like any grocery store, but the walls and floors were all wooden, the walls painted a pleasant blue, nautical decor hanging around the walls. Anchors and lifesavers. The aisles had hand painted signs, and there was only one cashier working.

Vanessa moved with purpose, like her memory from when she was seven was clear as day, able to remember the one previous trip she’d made. She picked up one of the baskets left near the door and began shopping, Ian stumbling behind her.

“Pick up another, maybe two,” she instructed, and he backpedalled. He scooped up two, one on each arm, and began walking with her. 

Her shopping list was thankfully healthy. As they made their quiet escapade through the grocery store (it was awkward to speak in such a quiet space) he found they spent the most time in the produce aisle.

“It’s cheaper, and there’s a working kitchen,” Vanessa reasoned, her voice but a whisper as she loaded more vegetables into the basket on his left arm. He merely mhm ’d in agreement. He couldn’t keep an internal list as steady as she could, and followed her lead entirely.

Ian felt like he was being watched the entire time. Maybe it was just how foreign and unfamiliar an empty grocery store seemed to him. Although it was logical–empty town, empty store–the drone of popular music and babbling children was ambience fitting for such an environment. In fact, he began to question why there wasn’t a droning of music through the store.

He didn’t shake the feeling even as they were checking out. The old man who worked as the cashier had dull, blue eyes. They felt like they looked through him, grasping onto something more primal and far less physical than a body. It creeped him out, but he supposed you couldn’t question a senior citizen like that. Oftentimes, they just grew into that dead stare.

“Payment,” he croaked, not forming a proper sentence, sliding the debit machine closer. It uncomfortably scraped across the table, making a grating sound.

Ian went to put the two baskets down–they were full again, but he had room on the table–before Vanessa swooped in, reaching into his back pocket and taking out his wallet.

“On it,” she said, voice as quick as lightning. She thumbed through his wallet, flicking through gift cards and old receipts, IDs of several kinds…before dragging out his debit.

She tapped onto the machine, and it went through. She went thumbing through the wallet again. The cashier’s dead gaze transferred from through his soul, to Ian’s eyes.

He tried to not show it, but his face was so emotive it was honestly more realistic to pray the man didn’t detect it. Even more realistic to simply pray he didn’t take offence. He looked frightened for a split second, before he could harness his emotions. The man’s gaze dropped from his eyes, to his lapel, and back to his eyes.

“Chrysanthemums are a beautiful flower,” he commented, a thin smile spreading across his old face. Vanessa was cramming Ian’s wallet back into his back pocket, stealing baskets off his arms as he awaited the man’s response. He had left the car unlocked, so Vanessa had no problem exiting and beginning to empty the groceries into the vehicle.

“Oh, thank you,” he said, smiling back at him. He liked it when people noticed his pin. It made him feel like they were noticing her , too. Like that chunk of her soul could forever be acknowledged, thought about, spoken about. Forever an excuse to bring her up, if not for a couple of seconds. “They were my moms favourite flower.”

The old man let out a sigh. “Death forces others to reap what they have not sown.” 

Ian felt a pang of sadness in his heart. Being old, he figured most of the man’s colleagues had died around him. His wife, maybe. Perhaps his children had moved away as well. In the final years of his life, he was left alone, working as a cashier.

“Life goes on.” Ian tried to comfort him, struggling to find the words in a situation where he strangely had none.

“Maybe. Maybe not. I fear something bad is to come.” The sentence shot chills up his spine, and he went slack-jawed at the man. He let out a shaky breath, raising a brow as he looked into his undying eyes.

“...Pardon?” He asked, hoping he had let paranoia seep into him, contorting his auditory perception. Making him hear someone insane, something that was miles away from what he truly meant.

“Don’t dread it,” he said calmly. “The storm does not sweep us all.”

He didn’t understand what he meant, and he didn’t have time to ask for further clarification before Vanessa called him. Her tone was sweet, but there was an underlying feel that he should really get moving at this point. He just gave a final confused glance before hurrying away.

Vanessa was already in the car by the time he pulled up. When he opened the door, she clicked her seatbelt on. He slid into the seat as well, clicking his seatbelt on. The car thrummed with energy, having been on the entire time throughout their short grocery trip.

“Sorry to be so urgent,” she apologised, fidgeting with her glasses. “I was just trying to save you from talking with the locals. They get really chatty, even if they’re sweet.”

He wasn’t sure if sweet was the way he’d describe it. Nor very chatty. Cryptid sentences seemed more abrupt, quiet and unnerving than sweet or chatty. But he simply nodded.

“Yeah.” He started the drive. He didn’t want to talk, but Vanessa did, so he let her drone on. She began talking about the locals here. Scattered memories of previous vacations. Swimming in lakes, pushing her brother around. Crying because she scraped her knee on a rock.

He thought it was endearing enough. It was also enough to move his mind from the strange interaction. Dementia really warped your mind, as did isolation. He figured both were likely causes as to why he had spoken so strangely.

The drive home was shorter. Both due to the levity of nostalgia filled stories being told, and the fact that he drove just a little faster than usual, rushing through the roads. Vanessa was so overjoyed to be relishing in her childhood that it didn't seem to bug her in the slightest.

The storm does not sweep us all . Was the only thing he could think of. As they pulled back into the makeshift parking lot outside the camping grounds, he thought about how much the grumble of gravel resembled the roll of thunder.

Chapter Text

Miles was in his cabin, shortly after walking off, per Ian’s instruction. He was glad to have talked with Eve. He was further glad she didn’t pry too much into his situation. Neither he, Vanessa, nor Eve had spoken about what had bothered them in the car, and he wasn’t sure if they ever would.

His bad dream was strange in nature. He was entrapped within a black void, idly pacing around, his feet feeling as though they dragged with every step. From this void, a voice encircled him. It cackled, not uttering a single word. The cacophony of noise swirled around, nearly suffocating him.

He squeezed his eyes shut, covering his ears and trying to block the noise out. It was like a switch flipped when the noise stopped, radio silence coming from nowhere, making the quiet overwhelming and nearly deafening. When he eyed around the void again, he found the ‘walls’ that he could not see to be functioning more like projectors.

Sound kicked in lightning fast, but it was not laughter. It was more screams, and cries. He couldn’t pinpoint a single voice, but he knew they were his friends. He could have even swore it was him. He wished he was able to decode what words they might be screaming, but he couldn’t place it. All he felt was loud, a headache beginning to pound within his skull.

The images invoked a similar feeling to a child stumbling onto a movie they weren’t supposed to. The images felt wrong, and startling. Yet his mind felt shrunken and small, unable to truly process anything but the fact he was afraid . People–whose faces he could not see, who’s bodies he could not recognise–were being tied down. Cut into and brutalised. He watched as the cold steel of a knife slashed into flesh. He was unable to turn away, only able to squeeze his eyes shut to avoid what he was seeing. 

When he woke up, it had just been Eve. She was driving straight, and didn’t comment on his sweat-drenched appearance. Didn’t comment on the shaky breaths he took, and the tears he discreetly tried to wipe from his eyes. Maybe she really didn’t notice, but her eyes had sharp, accurate vision like a hawk. It was unlikely she let something slip past her vision. Eve seemed to have an air of survival around her, waiting to shoot down a threat, hyper-aware and especially capable. 

He was just grateful she didn’t say anything, didn’t press. He remained quiet for hours while Vanessa slept, and didn’t talk much after she awoke. Her presence brought some well-needed levity to everything, but it was brief, and they spent the last long leg of the trip in silence.

When they had arrived back, he didn’t want to sleep. He refused to. For the first time in his life, Miles didn’t want to sleep, and he wanted to organise instead. He found himself meticulously putting away clothing, treating a cabin like an actual room. When he was fumbling through his stuff, he had stumbled onto a bag that wasn’t his.

In his tired stupor, he hadn’t recognised who’s bag it had been. It was Eve’s, and he was confused when he saw the pills rattle to the floor. He checked the label on it.

He hadn’t been mad, but he had been confused. Maybe hurt. Hurt felt like the wrong word–it wasn’t anyone’s fault. Nobody should have had to feel guilty for not disclosing what was going on. But he didn’t expect Eve to be taking pills. He knew she wasn’t physically ill–he’d known her for far too long–but everyone knew she was a bit odd mentally. But Eve taking pills for it didn’t make sense. People who took pills for all that were genuinely crazy.

At least that was the picture he was used to seeing. Silence of the Lambs , A Clockwork Orange . He knew Eve wasn’t a psycho beyond repair, who ate and tortured people, so he waited. Wanted to ask her about it. After their conversation, he didn’t exactly understand it. Schizoaffective didn’t exactly sound like a word, but he just tried to push past it. Whatever medication she took clearly didn’t change her–he hadn’t suspected it and she’d been taking them for around a year at this point.

Still, he couldn’t stop thinking of last night as he clumsily put his cap on, pulling on a hoodie despite the heat being an apt reminder to dress in short sleeves. He dressed in basketball shorts, however, as some kind of half-assed attempt to dress accustomed to the weather. He didn’t want to bake in the heat, but he’d also hate to not be dressed in long sleeves–it just felt right.

He stepped out of the cabin. Riley seemed to be confiding something in Eve, maybe even apologising to her. Riley was talking a lot with their hands, which they always did. Gesturing and emoting was a part of how they communicated. It was funny to see them so nervous, because they loomed over Eve by an entire 9 inches, yet were profusely saying sorry as though they might burst into tears should Eve reject their apology.

All Eve did was shrug. Not one for physical affection, they didn’t provide any comfort to them through touch. “We can retake it later,” Miles heard her say as he pulled up, his converse lightly tapping against the stone path. He pushed his way into the clearing, where Eve sat on the picnic table, Riley standing beside.

“Retake what?” He asked, eyeing between the two. Riley looked a little embarrassed he’d overheard, and he worried that something bad had happened. He adjusted his cap a bit, his eyes flicking up when he noticed it wasn’t centre.

“Eve’s photo got all distorted–the cabin ones and all that…Ian has my camera right now, so I can’t show you…” Riley seemed equally sorry towards Miles, even though the situation didn’t concern him in the slightest.

He shrugged too, not noticing that him and Eve had surprisingly similar responses to the whole ordeal. “Eh,” he said, waving it off. “You can always take more. Besides, today is technology free…we’re sightseeing!” He grinned his wide grin, and began marching off to the end of the clearing, near a small break in the trees that surrounded them.

Eve got up from their seat, casually strolling behind. He heard Riley take a deep breath before moving along with them. He hoped this camera ordeal wouldn’t stress them out the entire day, but there was quite a lot to see around here…nature wise, and he assumed Riley would like it.

He knew them the least out of all of them. While them and Vanessa had both joined the group at around the same time, Vanessa had the benefit of being his sister. He knew her the most out of everyone, even though she joined last.

“I can’t believe you know where you’re going,” Eve commented. She had been decently far behind him, but she caught up quickly. Riley loomed behind the two, catching up with their long legs, but not finding the room to squeeze in between them. “You haven’t been here since you were young.”

“I was fuckin’ five ,” he responded. The way to the lake wasn’t entirely clear. He remembered there being stairs, but years of wear and tear must have destroyed or hidden them. It seemed like grass and leaves exclusively down the steep hill. 

He took a step forward, and the strange ground lurched him forwards. His hands caught onto the tree, lightly scraping his palms as he caught himself. His heart raced, worrying about how sourly that could have gone.

Eve slid down without any issue, getting further than him in a much quicker timespan. She was as physically capable as she was smart. It took minimal effort to match what Miles could do when he gave his all. It was why she was basically their unspoken leader. She was always prepared, planned. Nothing went wrong when she was around. In fact, just now, Miles noticed the miniature backpack she wore, likely full of basic first-aid.

Riley watched with unease. Miles saw them regret the choices they were making the moment he stumbled. He stabled his footing, wiping off his palms on his shorts, reaching out a hand to them.

They took a few hesitant steps forward, taking his hand to help ease themselves down. Once they were on equal footing to Miles, he helped them walk even lower. Miles preferred someone was buddied up with Eve and not him. Riley took small, cautious steps, but eventually, Eve was by their side and the two began moving.

Miles moved as well, trying his best to adjust quickly, and having little regard for his own safety. He felt Eve dividing her attention between the two, watching him out of her peripheral vision as he tumbled his way through like a maniac.

“How do you know the way if you were five?” Riley asked, gripping Eve’s hand so tightly Miles could see the veins slightly rise from their extreme hold. They were a worrywart, but he knew a few days in they wouldn’t mind the unsteady route. They’d probably like the beach, too. There was a little porch-like area within the trees with chairs and a riverside view.

Before Miles could answer their valid question, Eve had already caught on. “There’s diamonds on the trees,” she pointed out, gesturing around. Where they currently were, there were red and blue diamonds stuck on certain trees, following some kind of path. “We’re following blue, which is likely the river. I don’t know what red is.”

Miles let out a loud sigh. “Killing me here. Can’t have one surprise…can’t have any fun…you’re like a fortune telling wizard, but instead of like…awesome with cool beards, they’re…they’re something, alright? But yeah, we’re going to the river.” He honestly didn’t know how to end half of the sentences he started, and all he could do was hope nobody took offence to his jokes. He actually thought the fact they were all half baked and clearly made with minimal thought made them less offensive. “The red diamonds are high ropes, I think. Dunno if we should do it.”

Eve just shrugged. The whooshing of waves only got louder, a good sign they were headed to the right place. It wasn’t a long trek. If you fell down the hill, you’d probably hit the sand in two minutes flat. Miles could tell they were drawing close, because he felt himself step onto hardwood instead of the regular crunch of a leaf. It was still somewhat concealed by foliage, so he fully stepped onto the wood, kicking the leaves away.

“Over here!” He shouted, gesturing the two over. The ground had evened out by a large margin at this point, so they walked with ease, the two no longer holding hands. They both hoisted themselves onto the wooden platform, pushing through the last bit of trees, ducking their heads.

The porch was surrounded by a wooden gate. There were two red chairs that remained, facing directly towards the ocean. Two hammocks were also strung up, which would likely need to be shaken out for any kind of bugs. He let Riley get to the edge first.

The three were quiet for a moment, just feeling the wind and hearing the waves. Miles felt his chest tighten for no particular reason. Something felt suspiciously off. The white nose of water, which was once soothing, slowly morphed into a deafening static-like sound in his ears. His breath became quick and snappy, trying to drown out the noise without moving.

Eventually, he just broke away from the group, walking down some steps that were conjoined to the porch area. The noise wasn’t stopping, but approaching the water didn’t make it worse. He took some deep breaths, and it slowly began to fade anyway. Eve and Riley were approaching him from behind.

“Are you okay?” Riley asked, walking up to try and touch his shoulder. He evaded it, but quickly followed up.

“I’m fine. Just wanted to finally get near the lake, man! It’s like the whole fuckin’ reason I’m here !” He talked like he was fine, but he knew one's eyes–the gateways into a soul–would betray any facade he tried to put on.

Riley didn’t say anything, but he felt like they wanted to. He was worried the silence would wash over them again, but Eve spoke up after a single beat. 

“I thought you wanted to be here for us?” She remarked, her own unique tone of playfulness underlying each word. She began walking across the sand, the two following.

“When’s the last time we swam?” He asked, sighing. “I see you guys nearly every day.” He kept making his way through the sand. It was probably a bad idea to be down there in sneakers and socks, but mess did not bother Miles. It’d be Vanessa who’d be screaming right now.

“We swam at that party you threw for Eve and I,” Riley reminded him. “We swam in the literal pool you own…” They snickered a little. Ian would have shoved Miles, but Riley kept their joking verbal, strolling down the beach.

In the distance, lay a white shack. Clumsily put together, with a slanted, scaffolding roof and poorly painted wooden framework underneath.

“Can’t believe this shit is still put together,” he remarked, brows raising, moving his cap up as he eyed the shed. It used to be more heavily decorated. Particularly with stickers. They had likely all faded off from rain, and then got washed off in the tide. Or blown far away into the wind.

He remembered a time when they were younger. Sitting in here, their parents further down. The two were unsupervised, in their swimsuits. Miles had some tacky water wings strapped onto him, and Vanessa could swim by then. 

She was building a sand castle, scooping up sand in obnoxiously neon buckets, her iridescent sand lizard toy lying in the ground, immobile, watching her with its inanimate black dots for eyes, purple scales shimmering.

Miles, on the other hand, was five. He was attempting to destroy her castle, trying to take a fistful of sand from it to be evil and for no other particular reason.

“Ugh!” Vanessa shouted. “You are a little baby. Miles, don’t you know you are literally in kindergarten? I’m in grade ONE. You have to listen to me!” She crossed her arms. Miles remembered how big her glasses used to look on her face until she was around ten years old.

She let out a long sigh, rebuilding her sandcastle. “Here. I’m the smart one, I’ll show you how you’re supposed to play in the sand,” she instructed, passing him a bucket.

“ ‘Kay,” he said, fidgeting around with the bucket. Sand had gotten under his fingernails. He recalled the feeling of the grit underneath, the feeling of the low seaside breeze jostling his curls. The comfort he had in his sister promising that she knew what to do. He looked up at her, staring into her eyes with childlike adoration. She was bossy, but she was cool . Much cooler than mom or dad could have been.

The memory began to fade from Miles, but he remembered the know-it-all look on her face as she began to explain the very simple process of sandcastle making. Her voice drifted, getting fainter and fainter before the memory itself was entirely gone. A brief blip in time. Only stored through him.

Now, the shed was overrun with branches and leaves. He swiped them all out of the way, looking into it. It was an open shed, lacking any kind of door. It, at best, was asylum from the rain. Nothing more.

“Who’s taking it down?” Eve questioned, ripping apart tree branches and clutter alongside him to help clear the pathway. “Nobody’s been here for years, right?”

“Guess not.” Miles had a bad speech pattern of slurring two words together. Especially when it ended with an s. His “guess not” sounded a lot more like gues’snot , the two lacking in proper enunciation.

“It looks nice and cosy in here,” Riley remarked, stepping in once the foliage was cleared. Ever cautious, it was only logical they kept their distance. Who else would be there to fear the health and safety concerns a tree branch brought? “We could set up a little campfire one night.”

Eve stepped back. Miles saw the gears turning in her mind, stepping back with her, trying to see from her angle. She was just gazing into the forest behind the shed. A forest situated on top of a hill, much like the one they climbed down before. This one was much steeper, however.

Eve finally broke her silence, allowing Miles and Riley to get a peek of what was going on in her head while she was dead silent for a few beats. “Lots of cedar in this area, and the sand would be a natural firestopper…it’d be a pain in the ass to find starting logs. Otherwise, good idea.”

Miles just nodded along like a bobblehead, agreeing with Eve’s advice. Sounded good to him. Now he wondered if Ian and Vanessa had done any grocery shopping for s’mores…he had sent Ian so the list wouldn’t be completely bland, after all.

“You done with the beach?” He asked Riley, looking at them. They had their hand placed by their chin, a finger curled, resting overtop their lips. A hm sound escaped, before they started speaking.

“I saw a lot of good spots to take photos…I think I’ll, uhm, end up liking that–that, the uhm…” They moved their hand from their chin, now pinching the bridge of their nose, squeezing their eyes shut while they thought. “--The sitting area…” They said, their hand gesturing a bit, like they were fanning themselves shittily. After they’d recollected their thoughts, they pretty much went back to normal, talking with their hands. “I don’t like water as much as the rest of you…good for when you all trap me down there for hours.”

Miles rolled his eyes. “Nah. Crazy talk. Accusations…” He began walking back the way they all came. “I said sightseeing…but I think the beach is good enough for today. Don’t want to worry Ian if we’re gone by the time we get there.”

“Or Vanessa?” Eve questioned. Her and Riley already got the lead on him. He wasn’t walking particularly fast, so it didn’t bug him. Although, he swore the sky was much grayer than it’d been before. Maybe a little colder, as well. He tried to not question it. As the two made their way far above him, he looked back to the shed one last time.

For some reason, he felt like his memory came to life. Just one part, however. Vanessa. He felt like he saw her. Nothing was there, but something clawed at his mind. Like he was facing an apparition. Staring right at a younger version of his sister.

But the moment he felt as though he saw it, the moment he felt the piercing gaze, it was gone. Nothing was left there but sand.

He turned around, shivering, just to shake the feeling off his shoulders. He noticed how far ahead the two were compared to him, but he didn’t bother to quicken his pace. Riley glanced behind themself, waving to him. He waved back, assuring everything was fine.

Everything didn’t feel fine. It was likely the sentiment of it all. Accepting that he would have to part with nearly everyone after this summer. Eve and Riley for sure. He didn’t know what he wanted in life. He wondered if it really just would be him and Vanessa. In this town until they die.

Just like when they were kids. The notion felt cold and dreary, instead of warm and nostalgic. He had always thought that he wanted out of this town when he was younger. Vanessa had thought the same–and look where she was. What would he even do when he moved?

His body went onto autopilot as the worries festered within him, clawing at his insides, drawing his attention away. He was tense. By this point, he’d made his way up the staircase, about to begin climbing the hill again. He focused a little more. He noticed at this point, Eve and Riley were almost at the top.

He looked down for a quick second, before he heard Riley scream. His head jerked up, and he made his way up the hill as fast as he could. Eve was holding onto Riley, who had their hand over their nose.

“Oh my God,” Eve said, pushing their hand away and looking at their face. “Did you trip into a tree? I thought I was watching you.” Miles saw the panic seep into Eve’s eyes. He felt like shit. Eve had taken their medication a little later because of him. Now, she must feel crazy. Especially with that statement. The panic in her eyes clearly read fear . Fear that she would slip into who she once was–that the medication would stop working.

He had made his way fully up, so he gently rested his hand on Eve’s shoulder. All three of them were holding onto each other. Eve and Riley both took deep breaths. Blood streaked down Riley’s face from their nose.

“I–I guess I tripped. It felt more like a push, but…I was just slammed into that tree. I-I don’t think my nose is broken, though.” They sounded out of breath, in disbelief. 

Miles' eyes were wide as well. “Yeah, the steepness…for sure, makes you feel like you’re fucking falling…”

Eve nodded. “You’re alright, though?” She made sure to check Riley’s face for any injuries, lightly prodding at their nose to feel for any fracture bone.

“I’m…alright. I’ll wash the blood off later.” They walked back in silence, Eve holding on extra tightly to Riley. Miles could tell. The section of Riley’s arm that Eve held onto; it was a little paler than the rest of Riley’s body.

They pushed out of the forest, moving through the clearing. Miles and Vanessa had been sitting there, talking to each other, bags of groceries piled on top of the bench. He heard the ending of their conversation as he approached.

“--not get so freaked. He’s old…old people say weird stuff.” Vanessa lightly tapped the top of Ian’s arm. He didn’t say anything–barely physically reacted–instead, snapping over to look at everyone.

Vanessa followed his head movement, eyes like a hawk as always. First flicking to Miles. Probably to see if he fucked something up, which would be rude, but not an unfounded fear in any sense of the word.

“Welcome ba–” Ian was about to finish his greeting, but Vanessa’s eyes had already set on Riley. No explanations, no pleasantries.

“What the fuck happened to Riley!?” She got up to her seat, walking over to Riley, staring at their face, wiping blood away. “Jeeeesus Christ…” she mumbled to herself.

“They tripped into a tree,” Eve explained, letting go of their arm, seeing that Vanessa was already busy worrying about it all. “They said they’d wash it off later.”

Vanessa looked to Miles. “Right. You and Ian go make sure there’s nothing dead in that well.” He suppressed a smile. It reminded him of how bossy she’d been on the beach. Ordering him around about sand, and now wells.

Riley’s brow quirked, eyes scrunching as they heard that last sentence. “A well?” They didn’t seem grossed out about it at the very least, which was good. Miles decided to get his words in first. It was always a race with Vanessa in the room.

“We get our water from a well. I dunno much about the thing…but nobody died when we were down here.” He shrugged. He honestly didn’t remember how the water tasted. When he was five, all water was gross. He wanted to drink something real, authentic and nutritious. Like bright coloured juice in a small barrel-shaped container. Either way, he had nothing against it.

“We’ll go in an hour,” Ian chimed in. “Still have to find the lodge…put away the food…” Ian was the voice of reason this time.

Everyone at this point gravitated to the picnic table. They all sat down, squeezing against one another, leaning in. They started up conversation quickly, forgetting about everything they had to do, prying at each other for what happened while the other was gone. Cracking jokes and lightly whacking each other–speaking over one another, critiquing shopping choices…However, in all the talk, all the laughter, Miles withheld his story. He didn’t talk about seeing Vanessa. Seeing the past version of her, because maybe he truly hadn’t seen it at all.

Even though he felt the guilt of hiding something, glancing around, he sensed it within everyone. Everyone at this table had something they were not saying. Everyone knew it too, but they tried to bury it. Miles wasn’t so good at burying, but soon it came to him, and he allowed the thought of Vanessa to fade just as her apparition did. Pushed to the back of his mind. No longer relevant, drowned out by laughter and joy.

Chapter Text

The five had begun to walk their way to the lodge. The more they explored the premises, the more they learned there were hidden paths, covered by bushes and branches. Off the main path, the one that led through the cabins, ended up being the route to the lodge.

Riley had stopped cupping their nose. Luckily, the bleeding was just from the impact of the slam. They hadn’t bruised or broken anything. All they needed to do was rinse off that blood–which was the main reason they were trekking up there anyway.

The walk was decently silent. It could never be fully quiet–with such a large group, everyone was always talking to someone. It’s just how they were, talkative people. But Riley was content to bask in it. Bask in their conversation, sparse as it was.

Even though they were trying to tune into their speaking, there was something in the back of their mind. Scratching and clawing, trying to pry out of its mental cage. Thoughts they’d rather oppress, but found they couldn’t. As if the thoughts were liquid, they squeezed past the bars, oozing into their general consciousness.

They had felt the hands on their back. Firm, cold, calculated. A push into the tree was what it had been. Not a trip of any kind. They didn’t know what to think at the moment, Eve and Miles swarming them. The reasoning made perfect sense, too. With how steep it was, no wonder it felt like a shove.

They bit their lip, wringing out their hands anxiously as the group walked. They trailed at the back, Miles and Ian at the front, causing commotion. Eve was behind the two, directly in the middle. All three of them were doing heavy lifting, carrying the groceries for the rest of the group. Eve kept occasionally glancing back at Vanessa and Riley, who rested far behind Vanessa.

The girl actually ended up stopping, remaining standing until Riley caught up. Riley hadn’t even noticed she’d stopped–they were too wrapped up in their own thoughts. Vanessa placed a hand on their shoulder. “Hey, everything good?” She asked, wincing at the dried blood across their face.

“Oh, yeah…” They mumbled, offering a meek smile. They twirled some of their straight hair around their finger. They were a little surprised how well it retained the purple sheen, although they had yet to wash it with the well water. “Just thinking about how…silly it is that I tripped like that.”

Vanessa frowned, clicking her tongue and rolling her eyes. “Don’t call yourself stupid. I swear, there are stairs there. Miles is just…such a dumbass for missing them,” she huffed, folding her arms and creasing her brows. Nothing got her so worked up as her brother did, Riley noticed. 

“You should give him a break,” they suggested, shrugging. “We’re all messing up.” Riley liked Miles, and couldn’t blame him for whatever happened. He had gotten there as quickly as he could. Something had been bothering him as well, and they knew it.

Eve didn’t comment on his slow pace, so Riley neglected to mention it, but it was certainly strange. How he stared off into the distance for just a little too long made them worry for him. About what he saw.

As always, they’d try to keep their observations to themselves. Always watching, never speaking. It was tried and true. Speaking up could get you in trouble. Could offend others. It was always best to digest your opinions.

Vanessa sighed. “I know, I know…it’s just the worst seeing you all banged up. Makes me want to blame someone.” She brushed some frizzy hair out of her face. Riley hadn’t commented on that, either. They wondered if Vanessa was showing frustration with it. She’d have her natural curls back in less than a week.

Riley shrugged, yet again. “Oh well. A bit of blood never hurt anybody. Wash it off and I’ll be back and ready to go.” They offered another smile, which only made Vanessa frown a little. Her shoulders even slumped the slightest bit.

“I wish you respected yourself more, Riley. We all respect you a lot, yeah? And if anyone doesn’t…I’ll go and beat their ass,” she said, a seemingly genuine statement. Vanessa sometimes talked just like Miles. That observation was, for once, not limited to just Riley. Everyone noted their similar mannerisms–even jumping on the opportunity to call them twins, much to Vanessa’s chagrin.

 Riley brushed the remark off, letting a small hm noise escape their lips. “I have lots of respect for myself. I don’t want to blame Miles, is all. Freak accident.” Even if it didn’t feel like a freak accident, there was nothing they could say that would make them sound sane. Eve didn’t push them. If she had brought her hands anywhere near Riley–even by mistake–she’d have apologised profusely.

The two started up a dialogue about hair and hair products that ultimately yielded little in terms of emotional substance, but it was enjoyable, casual noise that filled the leisurely walk. Riley liked Vanessa. They felt a little embarrassed about their raw honesty the first night down here, saying how much they cared for her and all that, but it’s not like the words could have been taken back. They just stayed grateful that Vanessa appreciated their confession.

When they arrived, the lodge was a lot more gorgeous than Riley could have expected. In the front hung a slightly dirty sign. It was mildly overgrown with leaves, but the text was clear. In elegant, hand painted writing, it read Smith Lodge . The sign was white, and the text was green, mirroring the paint job of the cabins they resided within.

The rather unkempt dirt trail they had been following for quite some time transformed into neat cobblestone once the lodge was in view. Everything about the place seemed polished. 

Directly in front of the lodge, one could notice a lounging area. Trees and picnic tables covered by a huge canopy. The front wall was made entirely of windows, meaning one could see right into it. The door–which was large, metal, and fully off to the left–was the only thing you were unable to see through from the front.

To the left was a bigger, unshielded resting area. It was composed entirely of picnic tables, in a much bigger field. They couldn’t see what was on the right side yet due to the sheer size of the lodge.

It was constructed from brown metal, and was imposing. Looming over them, even. Roof pointedly uneven and slanted, although this was more of an architectural choice rather than a structural concern.

“Smaller than I remember,” Miles said. An insane comment to make, considering its drastic size. By now, the group had compressed a little more. Smushed together, instead of spaced as they were previously.

“Well, yeah, dumbass…you were five last time you were here.” Hand on her hip, Vanessa was as pertinent as always to jump on whatever Miles said. Miles just put out a hand to her, palm facing her. 

“Not talking to these haters…” He mumbled just loud enough for everyone to hear, commencing his walk again as Vanessa’s eye twitched.

Ian chuckled a little, lightly nudging Vanessa in the shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. He’s just being a smartass.” He paused. “...A little like you.” He began to hurry off with Miles, now. Eve gave a brief… noise . It could have been interpreted as a laugh, but Eve was really not a laughy kind of person.

Vanessa just rolled her eyes at the chicanery, before everyone had moved into the lodge. It was spacious. Clearly space for tables in here, but they’d all been folded away or cleaned up. There was a kitchen directly to the right when they entered, a little bar-like area visible. You could see right into the kitchen, a huge open area in the wall allowing it. THe kitchen was somehow pristine and tidy. The outside had given way to decay, but the inside had not a single trace of it.

“Fridge is in the kitchen,” Vanessa said, gesturing over to the general area, walking around the empty middle. Her shoes clicked and thunked across the floor, the empty walls reverberating the sound. 

The three carrying groceries hustled off, stocking it away in cabinets and fridges. Riley watched them from afar. They were like bees, or ants. Little bugs working together to protect a colony. Checking fridge lights, checking the sink, etc…

Eve had been checking the sink, and seeming to find the water alright, she called Riley over, beckoning them with a gentle hand. “Come wash your face!” She shouted, her voice echoing the slightest bit.

Riley nodded, walking into the kitchen. To get in, they pushed past a small, swinging door. It was not difficult at all. They strutted over to the sink. The sink was quite deep, two metal squares rather than a typical circular sink. The faucet was large, skinny and curved like an umbrella. It was also detachable.

Riley hummed, washing the blood off their face, watching it go down the drain. They shut off the water the moment they didn’t need it, wiping excess dampness off their face with their tank top, which accumulated a water stain. A little bit of blood had already dribbled onto it, so they didn’t mind.

The feeling of dizziness crept into their skull, the late reaction reverberating around their cranium. They took an unsteady walk about before hoisting themselves onto the counter.

“Not excited to check that well.” Miles rolled down the sleeves of his hoodie, idly commenting upon the situation. He cracked his knuckles a little as well. “Least there’s a map in this place…”
Nearly everyone turned their head to Miles at that moment. They were pretty much all in the kitchen, save for Vanessa. She was in the main area–or at least Riley remembered her being there. They turned their head back, gazing through the open area in the wall. She was nowhere to be found. Their brows furrowed, but as nobody seemed to notice, they reluctantly turned back to Miles.

“Oh, huh? Didn’t tell you? There’s, like, a giant map…somewhere…out there…” He gestured with his arm in a general direction, but he did it so frantically and half-assedly it was impossible to say if he meant right in front of him, or to his left. 

“Miles, you’re such a navigator,” Ian remarked, his hand over his heart, jaw dropped in a faux expression of awe. “How did you become such a genius? So skilled, and talented, too?” Miles whacked him on the arm.

“Cut the crap, Ian…you’re gonna drive me nuts.” Every word was so devoid of seriousness that even hearing it, removed from context, sounded amusing. He rolled his eyes, exiting the kitchen and gesturing for everyone to follow him. They all followed, like sheep following a shepherd. Simply because they knew no better. No matter how poor a guide he may be, he was their best shot around here.

He brought them to the back wall, moving to the right. Between the back wall and the kitchen area there was a very small space one could squeeze past. The space led to an exit door. Above said exit door was a huge map, with a YOU ARE HERE to boot.

“I wish I had my camera,” Riley mumbled. It would have been useful, preserving this map for a later date. Ian just gave them a reassuring pat on the back.

“It’s in my car.” He was so laid-back about it all, offering his small, casual smile, looking between them and the map. “We’ll get it later.”

The grounds seemed to be bigger than they all were expecting. Aside from the lodge, further out, there were campfire sites. Dedicated spots marked with little fire insignia. There was also a medical quarters. Riley wondered if any first aid remained buried within its drawers.

They all decided to just push out through the exit door, despite it being a tight squeeze. By now, more people were beginning to pick up on the lack of Vanessa. Riley noted their confused expressions, transmitting from person to person as though it were an infection. Before anyone thought to speak aloud about it, Vanessa reared her head around the corner, approaching like nothing had occurred.

“Everything packed away?” She asked, nonchalantly. She didn’t have a care in the world that she seemed to have disappeared under everyone’s nose. Maybe she’d just been walking around the lodge.

“Yeeeeah…” Miles responded, squinting his eyes at Vanessa. He stepped closer, crossing his arms and looking down to her. He was four inches taller and absolutely lorded it over her every chance he got. “Where were you?” He questioned, eyeing with more confusion than anger.

Vanessa just rolled her eyes, hand finding its way to her hip as though it was magnetically compelled. “Just walking around, jeez…no need to be so intense about it.” She dismissed him as though she didn’t have a care in the world for his valid question.

“Okay, weirdo. Stop acting like such a ghost…disappearing behind walls and shit.” He scoffed, walking back with everyone else. Vanessa tailed right behind him, pestering him with another question.

“So, you and Ian are heading out to the well now, right?” She had a smug grin across her face, like she was getting the upper hand by sending him away to his duties, like a mother grounding a child.

Miles let out a groan, rubbing his face. “Yes, mom ,” he grunted out, mocking her with the pronunciation of mom . “Then, when we’re back, we’ll shine your shoes,” he tacked on, grabbing Ian by the arm and walking off, waving bye to her.

“Oh, fuck off!” She shouted at him, her arms now crossed rather than one going to her hip.

Miles' waving hand quickly turned to a middle finger, his snickering heard as the two marched off, stumbling due to the fact they couldn’t walk in sync. Riley and Eve laughed at their audible banter. It wasn’t until Riley heard Eve laughing that they realised how quiet she’d been since Riley tripped.

“Miles, what the fuck are you doing?” Ian asked, bumping into him. “Born with two left feet?”

“Excuse me , I’m sorry you’re so…fuckin’ tall! It’s like dragging a goddamn statue as I walk…” He tugged on Ian’s arm, the two slamming together again like an abacus.

“Ow! Dude, you’re gonna split my head open…” He cackled, dragging Miles along.

“Blah, blah, blah…” Miles mocked, before the two ended up disappearing behind the lodge entirely, their chatter going inaudible as they looped the corner.

Vanessa huffed a strand of hair out of her face, her gaze going from annoyed to tranquil once it was just the three of them, Ian and Miles sent off to get drinking water.

“...I’m going to take a nap,” she announced, taking a decently small pause before saying so. “If you guys just want to, like, chill…I’d recommend that. Don’t go exploring. You’ll make me nervous.” Her nose scrunched and she frowned with that last statement, likely afraid of Riley getting injured a second time. She didn’t give much leeway for a response, turning and trekking down the cobblestone path on the way back.

“I’ll nap too,” Eve said, her silent voice vanishing to utter one last sentence. She gave Riley a gentle jostle of the shoulder. “See you later.” Eve quickly caught up with Vanessa, the two walking away in silence.

As Riley watched the two grow smaller and smaller, their backs facing them, they wondered how strange it was that neither looked like a friend. Their image distorted in their mind, and a feeling of unease set in. Everything had felt too quiet.

They didn’t turn around after Riley didn’t follow. They didn’t speak to each other. Of course, it was all fatigue. Long trip, rough night, troubling day. It’d make sense they’d want to sleep. The truth could never stop anxiety, however. It would never serve as an effective barrier for the insecurities that mushed together, becoming indistinguishable from this so-called truth , chipping away at one’s stomach and burrowing itself in the hole it had just dug.

It was this same anxiety, this same fear of something Riley could not name or place, that got their feet to start moving. Got their shoes to drag against the cobblestone path, the clicks turning to crunches as they transferred from dirt, bright sun turning to shade as they entered the tree-filled cabin area, and companionship turning to solitude as they accepted the fact they’d just need to be alone for a little bit, gently making their way up the steps, onto the deck, quietly shutting the door and eyeing around to the mess that was their cabin.

Now was as good a time as any to organise, so with silent defeat, they plopped to their knees, rummaging through their suitcase.

Chapter Text

Vanessa stood in the middle of the empty lodge. She remembered scarce things here and there from the previous visit–but she never forgot the shallow feeling of the room. Tables packed up, chairs folded away. The room that was surely once bustling and filled with movement came to a full stop.

Even at seven, the age where one had yet to learn times tables and was unable to choose a best friend did this issue perturb her. She knew there was nothing inherently haunting about the place itself. It was perfectly regular grounds. Suitable.

But the feeling of being haunted never quite escaped Vanessa. It stuck to her, like a warily walk through cobwebs. Though you may rip the webs off your eyes, and you may expose yourself to some kind of deeper truth–the webs will never escape your hands. They stick and stick, a thin reminder of your thick entrapment.

This feeling bothered her ever since Riley had taken their stumble. They weren’t ill in any way–they didn’t even seem shaken up. Timid and quiet as ever. That was Riley’s style. However, what they did seem was repressed . There was a thought they had that they wouldn’t share.

The nature of the thought Vanessa couldn’t put together through guessing alone. It took more than shots in the dark to pinpoint an underlying issue. She couldn’t even begin to guess what they might be withholding a thought about.

The confusion spawned worry, which birthed anger, which harvested fear. The decidedly dissonant trio sung a hymn of death in her head. Feeling no choice as tears bubbled in her eyes, she pulled away from the rest of the group, breezing out of the lodge and taking off down the cobblestone path without a word.

She arrived at her cabin, and though she tried to slam the door, it offered little pity to her wishes. Inanimate and uncaring, it swung back and forth as though it were light as a feather. Not even a measly creak escaped as the door swung on and on, and she slammed her fist into it.

She stormed further into the cabin, reaching her bunk. She ripped the stone out of her bed. It had such a large, enticing eye. It was perfectly shaped to a human eye, and it was uncanny. 

A bull, however, does not see beauty. A bull is a wild animal, a tornado that attempts to demolish anything in its path. Humans can often be quite bull headed, or so goes the saying. Stubborn. Unwilling. Forces of nature that rip apart what may be in their way.

So, with all the apathy and primal rage of a wild animal, Vanessa gripped the gorgeous stone in her hands and tossed it to the ground. She wished she could’ve heard the stone shatter–pray that she’d hear it scatter across the bunk, leaving remnants all around but truly forever destroyed.

But as Vanessa stood there, her watchful eye turning to the stone at what should’ve been the apex of its destruction–there was nothing. Nature had not rewarded her angry urges. Karma had not forgiven her decision to act on her ill wills. The rock gave a small spin, then stopped. Stopped right in front of Vanessa, like it was looking at her. Looking at her expectantly. Waiting for something that had yet to come. But in response to its glare, she gave nothing but her own. A silent stalemate. Difficult to win against a rock.

After a few seconds of breathing in the silence, she stormed out. She had no time to have disputes in her mind over rocks. She had no time to wrestle with demons that swarmed her head. No time to draw her sword and battle the manifestations of her guilt. Today she sheathed. Today, she gave up.

She returned with the others, and she pretended like she always did. It was easy to ignore the way you felt when you spent your whole life doing it. Although she found the skill came in extra handy as of recent.

No, I thought on it, and I don’t really want to go to university . A sentence that haunted her nightmares. She taunted herself. Calling herself a liar, ungrateful, unworthy. A coward. Some days she pretended to not remember, and other days she couldn’t sleep because she couldn’t bear to forget.

But the long-running con that started two years ago seemed to have no clear end. Was she to fulfil this persona the rest of her life? A bright, shining star, who buckled under the pressure of higher education? It wasn’t true. It was a vicious false mask she helped perpetuate. She wanted to claw her skin off, expose the organs inside, show the closest she could to the real her . She wanted–in her final moments–to scream alongside her aching flesh and clear up every sin she’d done and could never undo.

Thus, she came up with the idea to deviate. Spend some time separately. With their thoughts. She said she’d be taking a nap, but no napping would be done. The cabins were far too close and far too lacking in proper insulation to vocalise what she was thinking, but that was alright.

She sat here, in her cabin alone. Returned to the stalemate with the dreaded rock. As though it were telepathic, she chose to speak with it through thought.

You ruined my life . 

Silence continued. A response never rang out, even in her mind. She was left alone, to think. A new thought popped into her head.

Jesus Christ, I’m fucking insane. I’m talking–no, I’m aggressively thinking at a rock. 

She rubbed at her face, worming her fingers underneath her glasses, rubbing at her eyes before removing her glasses entirely. She didn’t need to see–in fact, she wished she saw less. She retreated into her mind for a second.

She missed her old life. She missed her old friends. She wished they hadn’t gone off to college–hadn’t left her behind. But they hadn’t had a choice.

She laid there, shutting her eyes, letting her thoughts carry her. She didn’t trust the shifty captain that was her subconscious, but she just wanted to let go for a brief second. Stop fighting. Stop making decisions.

Her mind led her to a memory.

Two years ago. It was the middle of the night. She could hear the unstill noises of an undisturbed house. The ticking of clocks. The sound of wind to a window. The subtle, near-quiet sound of slumbering people.

It was the middle of the night, and Vanessa was restless. She had a hunger for something she could not place, but the hunger–which grew like a parasite by the second, changing from primal emotion to some sort of dignified instinct–led her somewhere. Told her to go outside.

Vanessa didn’t want to wake anyone else. Good thing she lived on the first floor. She groped for the glasses on her bedside table, putting them on her face, rolling out of bed. She felt around for her flashlight by her desk. The rustling of drawers seemed to bother no-one, and she found her flashlight with ease. She lifted it, refraining from clicking it on. Its beam would be blindingly bright.

She dragged her desk chair over to below her window. She stood on the chair, unlocking the window and pushing it open. From there, she stood on the tips of her toes, wobbling ever so slightly before sticking herself through the window, army crawling halfway out. She then shut it behind her, unable to lock it but figuring it’d have to do.

She clicked on the flashlight, now. They had no real backyard. Truly, it was just a forest that stretched on and on. Before that forest, there was a clear patch of grass. Where they’d been allowed to play as children, always warned by those around them to not enter the forest. It never crossed either of their minds.

Until now, of course. Pointing the beam–more skin to a spotlight–right at an undisturbed brush of trees and woods, she felt no nausea. No fear. She felt like a magnet being drawn to steel, her feet taking steps with a confidence she did not feel like she even had.

It took some stumbling through the woods before purpose bled into this entire excursion. She tripped over something. A large rock. As she attempted to hold onto her wound, she used her free hand to cast light over the rock she’d tripped on.

Its shape and size was similar to that of a football, and on it was a crudely painted symbol. A spiral shape with two symbols that resembled arrows on the left and right. Her brows furrowed, and she felt the urge to lift it.

When she lifted it, there was a hole. With the flashlight beam still hovering over, she was able to see the stone. She reached down and grabbed it, clutching it close.

She had been so entranced that she hadn’t even noticed the freezing cold. It was not appropriate to be dressed in a tank top and pyjama bottoms. With a shaky, brisk breath, she stood up and began walking back.

In the months that followed, she had told her friends about the stone. Jessica, Pearl and Jake. They’d been her closest friends. They were alright with her general “bitchiness” and they were smart, like her. They were all planning to apply to the same university–they all wanted to work in healthcare as adults. Just different facets. Paediatrician, neurosurgeon, psychologist and physician. They would all get their bachelors together before moving on to more career specific universities. 

But with the introduction of the stone came strange things. Friends began to report knocking sounds on their doors and windows. Vanessa heard it too, and these sightings could not be chalked up to mere paranoia–neighbours and family would also complain.

Sometimes, Vanessa found her door was locked when it shouldn’t have been. She’d pull on the door to leave, and it wouldn’t budge. She’d check the lock, and it’d be closed, despite the fact it shouldn’t have.

She didn’t feel tired. She didn’t feel lethargic or hallucinatory or any other way that could cause her to forget locking or unlocking her door. It was confusing. The only way she was beginning to feel was crazy .

As all things did, it came to a boiling point. A straw that finally broke the camel's back. Months of feeling followed, watched, having their doors messed and their lives fucked with–they could take that. They did take that.

But when each woke up with a meticulous slit in their finger, and a cryptic paper with nothing but Vanessa written in blood, they had no choice but to turn on her.

They’d waited until her family left before showing up. Slamming the papers down and crying to her, pleading with her to just tell them why this was all happening. To prove she wasn’t some kind of mastermind to all this.

She couldn’t. Her tear streaked face and broken sobs were enough to convince them she hadn’t done any of this–but they still knew it was somehow her fault . She’d brought this disease to them and she couldn’t take it back.

Pearl and Jake had left. Now, only Jessica remained. Vanessa was sitting at their kitchen table. It was big, brown and wooden. Not very polished, and it creaked and wobbled. Her head was folded in her hands and she gave way to an uneven sob every now and then.

Jessica pulled out a chair to sit across from her, looking down at Vanessa like she was a bug. She was a sobbing, snivelling mess, and it made her lesser than. She would’ve felt empathy, but it’d been months of her life being ruined. She couldn’t muster a will to care.

“Whatever this is,” she began. “Get rid of it. We want you to come with us to university. Just bury that stupid stone, and we’ll do it.” She reached out, squeezing her hand despite the fact Vanessa seemed like a drag at this point. Vanessa had no response. She didn’t even look up as she heard the door open and close a third time.

Later that night, she went to grab that stupid stone. She tore it out from under her pillow, eyeing it with a hatred she’d never felt for another thing –real or fake, inanimate or animate. She went to run out the door. But in a split second–in the corner of her eye, an extremely tall man stood there. Her blood ran cold. He was expressionless and looming, the light from behind casting shadow so he looked like a feral beast. The door swung shut without even being touched after that.

She stumbled back, out of breath. A high pitched ringing went through her ears, and she fell to her knees. Blood began to pour out of her mouth and her nose, spilling onto the hardwood floors. She choked on it, the metallic substance bubbling in her throat. She vomited, time after time, trying to breathe. The light in her room–a small chandelier–swung and the lights flickered, providing unsteady visual ambience to her breakdown. She cried out in pain, before the ringing eventually stopped.

Her vision had been so blurry–her eyes glued to the floor, at that–and her hearing had been nullified, so she hadn’t noticed the mess her room had become. Something had been done to it. Something bright and vibrant was in the corner of her eye. To her right, where the mirror sat.

With a careful eye, she turned and looked. She found there were words on it. Words written with something that resembled ink in texture and colour, but she couldn’t say for sure. They read; DO THE RIGHT THING, VANESSA. LEAVE THEM. She stared at the words for longer than she would have liked. This thing–this monster that had been hunting her…well, it’d been doing exactly that. Hunting her . It didn’t want her friends.

It didn’t want her to throw away the stone. That much was clear. She was scared shitless, and found no other choice. She texted them all that she changed her mind. She sat down with her parents and she said she wasn’t going to university. All with a smile on her face. Never breaking the character of just changing her mind .

For a long time after that, everything came to a full stop. Her mirror was clean, as was her consciousness. Not a single bad event occurred afterwards. She picked up a job and none of her coworkers reported anything strange.

She’d spent her nineteenth year mostly alone and afraid. Holed in her house. Trying her best to be financially independent despite the fact she was nowhere close to needing it.

It was only when she turned twenty that she got closer to Miles and his friend group. She was wary, but nothing happened. No unlocked windows. No blood. No tall men lurking around them. No feelings of being watched. 

Though it was always in the back of her mind, she decided to push it away. She couldn’t feel the same amount of safety in her home ever again, but it was all fine. She took that stone everywhere with her. It was in her pocket, her car, under her pillow, in her suitcase. Nowhere did she go that the stone did not follow.

Including at camp. The camp where she lay at this very second.

She opened her eyes after reliving the past two years through snapshot memories and was only partially surprised to find that she’d been crying. She wiped a tear from her eyes, groaning. The cabin wood was hard and dusty, and only now did that sink into her back.

She slid her glasses back on and sat up, looking at the stone. Unforgiving. Inanimate. She wanted to throw it or scream at it, but Eve and Riley were close by. It’d certainly alert them that she wasn’t napping.

She stretched idly, letting out a mild sigh. She couldn’t help but feel like something bad was on the cusp. She worried if the next morning, everyone would wake up with slits in their bodies. 

Why was Riley being so distant and quiet? What did they have on their mind? The question tore away at her flesh, made her itch, made her yearn for more as she walked laps around the logic within her mind.

She didn’t want to push it away–she wanted to press into it, ask why, stop it at the source. But she couldn’t. She didn’t want to look crazy, or paranoid, or like a freak of any kind. She let out a weak sniffle.

If she ignored it, she’d never forgive herself. If something bad happened and she could not stop it, who would be to blame but herself? Still, the fear of revealing herself overtook her actions and she did not move towards Riley. Did not say anything to save her friend.

Feeling defeated, she climbed into her bunk. She laid there for a little, fidgeting with piercings, thoughts racing through her head. Eventually, her eyelids grew heavy and she figured she wanted to nap after all. She let sleep swallow her whole.

Her sleep was deep, and dreamless. At dark and empty as the writing on her mirror.

Chapter Text

Ian and Miles had begun to make their way down the rocky path to the well. Miles was going partially off of his visual memory–they’d seen the map mere seconds ago–and partially off his insanely weak muscle memory. As foliage began to cover the upcoming path, Ian quirked a brow and felt a twinge of unease. The worst thing to happen would be getting lost here. If he wasn’t eaten to death by mosquitos, he’d end up starving.

Nonetheless, after a few heat-filled minutes of walking around, the two made it there. The well itself was made of some kind of stone, ridden with moss and grass. It had the stereotypical triangular wooden well hat. It seemed to be just for show, however, because there was no bucket. Instead, there was a circular wooden cover on top of it.

Ian fanned himself, wiping sweat off his forehead while Miles worked on pulling the ‘lid’ off. He had long given up on his shirt. It was so drenched it pretty much stuck to him. He prayed that this place had working washing.

Miles didn’t seem to sweat a single drop, despite wearing a hoodie in this heat and dragging the cover off. He tossed it carelessly to the grass, where it barely even rattled as it hit the soft turf below.

He made his way over to the well, close enough to lean over it. Miles tossed his hat off the second he got the lid away, and then he leaned over as well. The sunlight illuminated it well enough. There was a ladder descending down into the well, and another important thing the two noted was the pungent smell. Surely a buildup of dirt had occurred–but that didn’t explain why it reeked .

Miles yanked his head away, even taking a few steps backward for good measure. “Fucking Christ, dude! Smells like shit !” He eyed the well like it was alive, mouth slightly agape in shock.

Ian remained by the fountain, but tilted his head up to look at Miles. His face was scrunched slightly in disgust. “Yeah…” He glanced back down before looking at his friend again. “Why does it smell like that?”

Miles shrugged a little aggressively. “Fuck if I know…” He began pacing around, looking through bushes and trees. Ian stood up fully, crossing his arms as he watched Miles move around like a tornado. It reminded him of Vanessa.

“What are you doing, man?” He called to him. Miles quickly waved a hand as if to shoo him, before pulling himself out of a bush and turning around, holding a children’s pail. It was gross and dirty and bright red.

“Got a bucket for you.” He held it with both of his hands like a small child. Just using context clues, Ian assumed it was one of the long-lost memorabilia from a past family trip that was strewn around here.

Ian put his hand to his chest, his pointer and middle finger touching the middle of his chest while the rest of his hand hovered. “Me?”
Miles switched his hold so the bucket was being gripped one handedly, and used his left hand to point. “You.”

Ian raised a brow again, but not out of confusion. He smiled a little, just teasing with Miles. He was a more muscular, slimmer build. His clothes were already ruined from the sweat. He seemed like the easier pick. “Meeeee,” he began saying, elongating the vowel, when all of a sudden, he had to think fast, the bucket being thrown his way.

He caught it, still laughing, as Miles walked over. He punched him in the shoulder. “What if we lost our bucket, dumbass?” He was smiling too much for Miles to take the sentence seriously. He just gave a shove to the shoulder in return, urging him to head into the well.

“Promise I’ll run really fast if you get stuck down there,” he said, propping his elbows up against the stone rim of the well, looking to Ian as he began his descent.

“There’s a ladder,” he reminded him, but he wasn’t so sure how much he trusted it. He didn’t say anything about it, but something about the metal rungs felt unsteady. Creaking so small it could be imaginary. He waved bye to Miles.

Miles was quiet–a first for him–likely because Ian wouldn’t be able to continue conversation from all the way down the well. He would hear Miles just fine, but the inverse didn’t work so well. He found the silence a little suffocating, in fact.

Thankfully, the silence wouldn’t last too long. Halfway down now, there was a creak. Just as quiet as the others. Unfortunately, said creak was a precursor to something more ominous. The rung he had just placed his foot on snapped, and he lost his footing.

He cried out, mostly in shock. Due to the cramped space in the well, he didn’t fall straight down. He fell backwards, his shoulder slamming against the other side of the well. He continued to slip, the bumpy and coarse stone ripping into his shirt and beginning to scrape his back as he fell. 

He continued to let out cries and screams in his panic, and he could feel Miles' eyes on him. He was positive Miles was trying to talk to him, but nothing but alarm bells and his own cries flooded his ears at that moment.

Finding a brief moment of calm, his brain decided to start working. He used the momentum to push himself from his awkward falling position onto his own two feet, stabilising himself on a rung that was a little too close to the bottom for his comfort.

Now, as the shock and the panic began settling down, the sounds and feeling of the world began to seep in. He heard Miles yelling his name. He felt his racing heartbeat and the blood leaking from the wound in his shoulder.

It had all happened so quickly he didn’t have time to process it. Normally, in a crisis, time slowed. For Ian, it felt as though it were sped up. No time to react, no time to hold on. His head was flooded, yet not a single coherent thought came. He rested carefully on the rung for a few seconds, sweaty palms gripping so tight his knuckles had gone a paler hue, before responding to Miles.

“Fuck…” He shouted up to Miles. “I’m alive! I’m alive!” He repeated himself a few times, just so Miles was positive he hadn’t busted his skull open.

“Are you bleeding!?” He heard called back down to him. Despite the well echoing, Miles yelled about ten times louder than necessary. 

“Yeah! Just on my shoulder, though!” He began eyeing around his surroundings. The sunlight illuminated a bright red something poking out of the dark dirt below. He must have dropped the bucket. No wonder.

He climbed down the final few rungs he could see, but didn’t step onto flat ground. It was mostly caked in dirt.

As more sights and sounds and smells poured in, he felt the full force of how disgusting everything smelt. He was surprised nothing had died down here–could have fooled him, that was for sure. But the drain pipe was clogged. The well had two holes. One led to the river, and one led to the lodge. The idea was that the water would pass through from one hole to another, pressure pushing water through the pipes. But all the dirt and grime had made it difficult.

He fished the bucket out from the dirt, which made an unpleasant squelching sound. He sighed, figuring he’d just have to cope with the awful scent. He’d smelt worse before.

He tried to make the work quick, relocating the dirt right around the pipe so it was stacked on top of the dirt around the edges. It was particularly wet–like a mud pie–and it was easy to scoop and dump. Though the bucket would need to be washed afterwards. Once he’d finished that, he could hear the small hss of the pressure pushing the water through the pipes. A success, for once…

He groaned. The pain in his shoulder was really getting to him now. The blood had pooled down his back, staining his sweat-soaked shirt. He would not be wearing this one again, which was truly a shame. He loved Linkin Park.

He shook out his arm a little, trying to ease the pain. He gripped onto the bucket with one hand and the rungs with the other, ascending back up.

When it came to the broken and missing rung, he grunted a little. He knew how to bypass it, but it’d be difficult. He held onto the bucket with his injured shoulder arm, and used the other to grip two rungs above. Knuckles going white, he pulled his entire body up, gritting his teeth as his feet found solace on a rung. He sighed, having to take a little to relax before heaving himself all the way up. 

He tossed the bucket the moment he could. He didn’t see where it landed, but nobody seemed to care about that right now. Miles was there, grabbing onto his arm the second he could, pulling at him to help him get up. He had a grip like iron, however, and began hurting Ian a little.

He hissed between grit teeth. “Fuck…fuck, ease up, man…” He mumbled, Miles wincing and holding onto him a little more gently as Ian exited the well. He sat in the grass, leaning back against the stone rim. Miles was at his side immediately, grabbing his injured shoulder and lightly turning it.

He made a few uneasy, concerned noises. Then he made a few more noises like he was thinking. He went dead silent, eyeing the wound for a few moments. “...A really bad fuckin’ scrape, but just a scrape…lots of bleeding, though.” He let go of Ian, letting him sit back.

Ian didn’t have anything to comment; he would have wiped the sweat off his face, but the tips of his fingers were dirty and smelt disgusting. He wanted them nowhere near his face.

Miles stood away from him, but his short stature seemed somewhat looming and tall when Ian was sitting down. He pursed his lips before speaking. “We’re…we’re treating whatever the fuck happened with you, so it doesn’t get infected. But we can–we can stay here, if you want to.”
Ian waved a hand dismissively to him, eyes closed and head leaning back. Without so much hair to catch the sweat, droplets of sweat pooled down his face. “Mm-mhm…” He mumbled, clearly not focused.

Miles slowly sat in the grass as well, picking at idle blades like he were a kid while giving Ian time to recover. Nothing but a few laboured breaths filled the air before Ian spoke up.

“I’m lucky to have a friend like you, Miles. Glad I didn’t go alone…” If Miles pussied out, he would have gone alone. He wouldn’t have even hated him for it. But what if it had been worse? What if he’d hit his head, or the fall was longer? He’d have nobody there to check on him. To help him up. Fuck, he’d have nobody to even find the bucket to rid the dirt of.

“...Me too, Ian. I’m lucky too.” He gave a small nod to Ian before the two resumed their silence. The rustling of leaves seemed to grow louder and louder as nobody spoke, but it was a welcome ambience. Peaceful. Fitting. The background noise seemed fine-tuned for the situation. Surely it would be another panic when Ian returned, bleeding. For now it was nice. The two enjoyed that.

Chapter Text

Ian walked surprisingly stable considering the injury he had. Miles trailed behind, wary of if he fell and continuously getting looks at his ripped open shoulder. He had used the word scrape to describe it because it seemed most accurate. His skin had been scrape… d off…it really did not look so pretty.

He wondered how everyone would react, especially after Riley’s injury. Vanessa would rip his hair out, grip him by the head and spin him around. He couldn’t worry about that right now, actually. His priorities should be on Ian. He picked up the pace a little to stop his gawking and walk beside him.

“How you feelin’?” He asked, looking at his face instead of his shoulder. He didn’t want Ian to get concerned with all his staring. Maybe it was like cutting yourself with a knife. You don’t feel it until you really look.

Ian shrugged–which he immediately regretted–winced, and then verbally responded. “I don’t know. It hurts when I move my shoulder, but…otherwise I’m fine. Feeling all that blood trickle down my back is gross as shit, though.” 

Miles just nodded, strangely deprived of a smart quip for the moment. He hoped it didn’t get infected or anything. 

Eventually, through their semi-long walk and their even longer draw of silence, they arrived at the lodge. In the main area, the three others were situated, playing some kind of card game. Surprise to no one–Eve appeared to be winning.

Vanessa’s reaction was extremely easy to predict. She practically leaped out of her seat, rushing over from the table where they sat to Ian, freaking out over his injury. Luckily, the three seemed to have dragged the first-aid kit from the decrepit nurses hut to the lodge. Simply for ease of accessibility. 

They sat Ian down. Vanessa got to worrying about him while Eve got to treating him. Miles edged away from the new group of three, planting himself beside Riley. Riley currently had their face covered with their hands, so much so to the point Miles could barely see anything but their eyes. He couldn’t even discern their expression.

“You good?” He questioned, bumping Riley a little with his shoulder. “Emotionally and physically…your nose isn’t broken, right?”

Riley was quiet for a little, before swallowing. “Ah, no…my nose is alright now. Thank you for asking.” Another long, drawn-out pause filled their bubble of silence. Just a few feet away, there was chaotic and hectic chatter. Right now, there was a brief faux-quiet. “...It’s just a little hard to watch.”

Miles frowned a little, gently grabbing them by the shoulder and spinning them to face away. “Then, uh…let’s not watch, yeah?” Seemed pretty clear cut to him. He looked around at the wall, decorated with paintings of broad, full landscapes that seemed empty in this small moment. He decided to start up conversation to bridge the silence. “...So…have any plans for this trip?”

Riley tensed a little less, their hands sliding off their face. Miles was rarely observant, but now he thought he could pick up on the slightest red twinge left on their cheeks. Their dark skin made it so faint that it might not have been there at all. “Yeah. I wanted to go swimming.”

Miles grinned at that one. “Swimming sounds great! We should go after lunch. And then swim all the way until dinner…”

Riley quirked a brow, smiling a little. “For hours…it sounds peaceful in concept, honestly.” Riley truly could not say anything rude about anyone else's idea.

“Not just swimming. Tanning, sand castles…whatever. Just existing by the lake. Saves me from having to change back into regular clothes. That’s all I care about, pretty much…it’s such a pain in the ass, sometimes. You can’t dry like you do at home on a vacation.”

Riley shrugged. “I barely go on vacation. But you don’t even swim in a swimsuit half the time.”

Miles' jaw dropped a little out of insincere emotion, before his eyes rolled and he let out a scoff. “Don’t fuckin’ diss. My swim hoodie is the greatest swimming apparel there is.”

Riley gently patted him on the back. “Don’t worry, I’d never insult your unique wardrobe. I like how different we all are.” Riley brought their hands back to themself, clasping the two together and letting them rest in front of themself. 

Miles gave a little nod to that. He was close with Riley–just like he was close with them all–but it was difficult to talk to them. They always seemed like the black sheep. Everyone enjoyed their company and their presence but they struggled to fit themselves into conversations alongside the rest of them. Something about their chemistry didn’t flow.

If that were Miles, he’d be pissed all the time. He struggled to make friends for a little while because he refused to talk to anyone who he didn’t truly click with. Luckily, he hadn’t lived too much of his life without Ian. Eighth grade onwards. Hopefully onwards, anyway.

He knew this trip was important to them. They clearly worried about the distance between them, and if they’d find their people again. Miles would try to make whatever they were inclined to do happen. He’d suggest swimming for sure. Probably get Ian to retrieve Riley’s camera as well.

By the time the two were done talking, Ian was all patched up by Eve. She patted his shoulder a few times, just to secure the band-aids further. Ian looked over to Riley and Miles and gave them a smile and a thumbs-up, indicating he was doing just fine.

The two made their way back over to rejoin the group conversation, where Vanessa had her arms crossed and her brows furrowed. Her bottom lip was set in some sort of angry pout. All of this was directed at Miles. He adjusted his hats positioning on his head before meeting her gaze. One of his eyes squinted, a brow raising. “. . .What?”

She moved her hands from being crossed, now throwing them up in the air. “What do you mean what ? Are you looking at Ian?” She gestured to Ian’s general person. “He could have died, Miles! Are you serious!?”

Ian patted her hand. “No way I would’ve died, don’t worry about it. Too narrow for me to have hit my head or anything.”

“Imagine if it got infected, though! It was a miracle we even had this medical supplies and a miracle Eve even knew how to use it and–”
Her concerns were cut short by Miles interrupting her. “ ‘Nessa. Chill. We’ll be more careful in the future.” He couldn’t fathom why she was so stressed right now. She normally blew up at him, but the issue had been resolved perfectly fine–and now they had water. It was so weird for her to get so angry at him.

Whatever he said seemed to calm her anyway. She took a few deep breaths, pinching her rather flat nose bridge before speaking up again, somewhat reassuring herself. “Yes. Fine. It was fine.” She let her sentence simmer in the air for a little bit before continuing on. “ Thank you for getting the water working…” She looked at Ian. “You should probably go get a shirt on.”

Ian did a mock salute towards her, standing up. Their height difference was fully visible, and it was extremely comical. Being a foot and two inches taller, he looked like he could simply throw her around. 

He made his way off to the cabins, and Eve and Riley seemed to have had some unspoken agreement that they wanted to be chefs, because they began moving into the kitchen area of the lodge–assumedly to cook a meal. Not that would be a problem, Riley had taken family studies courses all throughout highschool and Eve was so generally competent Miles didn’t think there was a task she couldn’t do.

Miles went to follow them into the kitchen, mostly to help out but just a tiny bit out of his own desire to annoy Eve. But as he began to take his first few steps, he felt his sister's arm hook around his, dragging him right in front of her. 

She looked right at him. He was about to ask her what her problem was, but the look she was giving didn’t read of anger or malice. Not even like she wanted to cause a problem. It read desperation. Maybe even fear. To see an emotion coming from any family member would instil a sense of dread in him–but especially so Vanessa. Always confident in herself, always handling everything, always sure, always got this . And she was afraid. What could she have been afraid of? He didn’t think she’d get so spooked from Ian’s fall.

He couldn’t swallow the fear fully, and he felt his reaction seep into something more visible, tangible. He felt his eyes widen ever-so-slightly, his brows raise and the muscles quiver with the dread and anxiety that trickled down and pooled into his stomach, like he’d eaten something rotten, like it solidified–hard as a rock and toxic as mustard gas–and he couldn’t puke it up.

Luckily, he didn’t have to sit into the horrifying silence for so long. The few seconds in which she didn’t speak ticked away like hours, but she broke it when she leaned in and whispered; “I was so harsh on you because something…something is freaking me out, alright?”

It didn’t ease Miles' worries much. He looked up to the kitchen. Eve and Riley seemed to be having a really pleasant conversation, smiling with each other. He liked seeing Eve smile. It rarely formed on her face, but she had a really pretty smile. He was getting distracted. Distressed sister at hand. He looked back down to her. “About what?” He, too, spoke hushed, but he carried much more urgence in his voice.

Vanessa her lips pursed together. She was clearly uneased and unable to vocalise what she felt properly. She took a few inhales, before fidgeting with her hands and spitting it out. “Eve. She’s just…we went to the nurses building to retrieve the medical supplies, right? Me, her and Riley…and I–she just moved so strangely …” Her brows furrowed, and she was obviously trying hard to articulate what she meant but struggling immensely. “Something about it felt…not like her. She wasn’t limping, or robotic…just…she walked with a gait that wasn’t like hers, and she was so quiet . Not–not that she’s usually a chatterbox or anything…” 

Vanessa was clearly upset by the whole thing, so Miles didn’t want to dismiss her right off the bat. But he was almost positive he knew what had happened. Eve had been a little late to take her meds this morning, so she must have been slightly thrown off, feeling a bit worse. She’d be all good by tomorrow. 

Obviously, Miles wasn’t about to disclose Eve’s personal medical information, so he just let all the information sink in, going silent–pretending he was processing, when he was actually forming a lie. His face scrunched a little before straightening itself out.

“I dunno man. We all slept pretty fuckin’ weird. With Riley’s nose, and Ian…you might be really stressed and shit. Like, ‘Nessa, you’re not crazy, but…coincidences happen or whatever. And you can read too much into stuff, yeah?” He hoped that calmed her down enough. By tomorrow, Eve would be completely normal and Vanessa wouldn’t even worry about this anymore.

She looked like she was savouring his answer, like she was rolling it around in her mind to try and make sense of it, deciding if he was being rational or being crazy. Miles completely anticipated her pushing him away and saying he just didn’t get it.

“Strange advice from someone who probably can’t even spell coincidence, but…” She took a long sigh, shutting her eyes and taking a few steps away from him. “You’re probably right. Thanks for helping.” She waved him off, before walking to the kitchen.

Miles followed them into the kitchen, but he ended up not doing much. He sat out of the way for a little bit, on the counter while all of them cooked. Cutting up vegetables, washing lettuce. Oven…things…Yeah, Miles had never taken anything close to home ec. his entire life. Looked like they were making chicken caesar salad or something, though.

He continued to observe before Ian returned. He was wearing another black shirt, this one with a giant graphic of the pokemon Gengar on it. Ian was always a bit of a geek like that.

Miles slid off the counter to go greet him, mostly wanting to keep Ian out of the kitchen. No particular reason other than Ian had a bad habit of not wanting to let anyone do anything for him. He’d just immediately try to help and insist he could do it himself. Especially after they patched up his shoulder. That was actually the first thing Miles thought to ask about.

“Hey, how’s your shoulder doin’?” He asked. Normally he’d give it a bit of a slap or a punch, but such didn’t feel completely appropriate. Especially since it could actually hurt him.

“Good. Eve’s basically a whole ass medic. Can’t believe she’s not going to be a doctor, right?” He nudged Miles a little with his non-wrapped arm, and Miles gave a little nod.

He looked back to Eve, who was right beside Riley. That got him thinking. Riley’s camcorder was still wedged in Ian’s car. They should probably go and get that before swimming. Not that anyone else really knew they were swimming, he was going to suggest that when they were eating.

“Oh–hey, isn’t Riley’s camera still in your car?” He asked, turning back around to look up at Ian. Ian raised one brow and gave him a funny look while he was thinking, before slowly nodding.

“Yeah…yeah it is. Wanna go get it?” He now raised both brows at him. If Miles knew Ian, he’d definitely just leave without him if he said no. But he really had no reason to, so it was a little comical he thought to ask in the first place. 

“No, I hate you and Riley,” Miles said sarcastically, rolling his eyes before grinning ear to ear. He began walking out of the lodge, feet crunching across the gravel path. Ian trailed behind, having no issue catching up with his large legs.

The first stretch of the walk was spent in silence. That was a little odd coming from this duo, but Miles had the feeling that Ian wasn’t talking because he was thinking. So he let him think. Even if it took quite a while.

“Miles, you’ve loved people before, right?” Was what Ian ended up saying, which kind of caught Miles off guard. He stumbled a little, before continuing to walk. 

“I mean, I love my family a lot. You know I’ve dated before, so I dunno what you’re really asking.” He put his hands in his hoodie pocket. Now he was a lot more invested in the conversation.

“Yeah, and you were madly in love with Josie Hewitt , huh?” He laughed a little at his own remark, which made Miles laugh in return. They’d dated all the way back in ninth grade–when you took whoever you could get–and it was strange. Cute, but strange. They barely shared any common interests. It felt just like playing boyfriend-girlfriend half the time. 

One particular memory everyone liked to bring up was their awful slow dance at homecoming. It was a whole mess, and all Miles could do was be thankful nobody brought a camera. The whole idea of it made him so embarassed that his face swelled with heat, despite the fact he was laughing his ass off the whole time. 

“What are you getting at?” Miles asked, side-eyeing Ian, who had now walked right beside him as he spoke. They had made their way to the cabin area, and now began to turn directions to head out onto the cars.

“It’s just…what would you do if someone you just had to date was…slipping through your fingers?” He looked to Miles with a strange earnesty, and Miles couldn’t help but feel all giddy for him. There were very few contenders for who Ian could want to be with, but Miles kept his tongue tied if Ian wasn’t going to drop any names.

“Ask them out,” he responded, bluntly. The shade of the leaves which reigned over the cabin path began to fade away as they got closer and closer to the small area where their cars were parked. “You might think you’re losing them, but…if they like you back and shit, man…who’s to say where your life will go, you know?”

They were close enough in range to actually see the cars by the time Miles had gotten through his sentence, so Ian fished the keys out of his pocket, unlocking the car while shrugging. The faint click of the locks releasing was heard before he spoke again. “I guess. But what if it all goes wrong and one of their last memories of you is so…stilted and awkward?”
Miles approached the side door, opening it and taking out the camcorder. He had sped ahead a few steps of Ian just for the point of being there first. He liked to win, and he thought holding something made you look a little more serious. Like your words had so much more gravitas.

He held the camcorder in his hands, closing the door with his foot before looking at Ian. “Sometimes we take risks and they don’t always work out. Sometimes things are awkward and sometimes they make us really happy. This…this is so generic, but you really just gotta jump for it. Well, I mean you don’t have to, but I feel like it’s the right choice, you know?” He cleared his throat a little, straightening his posture. “And if they have half a brain, they’ll love you back. Trust.” He handed him the camcorder. Ian gripped it with his hands, nodding a little.

“Fuck, dude, don’t make me cry or something…getting all deep.” He grinned at him. Miles could see the emotion boiling in his eyes. Some strange mixture that he couldn’t quite place–save for passion. He hoped it worked out for Ian.

The walk back was spent like most walks were spent with the two. Laughs and shoves and barely coherent rambling about something. Tears forming in their eyes from how hard they were entertaining each other. Time shared, time enjoyed.

When they pulled back to the lodge, it seemed like lunch was almost done. It was just Eve and Vanessa doing half of the cooking now, split equally amongst the two. Riley had been scrubbing the counters, before they looked up and saw Ian and Miles. Ian raised the camcorder in the air, and Riley gently put down their rag to run over and look at it.

They barely had to reach up, being that they were only 3 inches shorter, and took it with ease. They flipped through their photos, noticing that the purple effect remained on some. They tilted their head a little.

“I, uh, couldn’t fix the ones that had already been taken,” Ian said, one eye squinting as he frowned. He felt bad about it, clearly, but Riley seemed to shrug it off.

“Will all the new photos be alright?” They asked, cautiously optimistic, fiddling with settings on the camera.

“Should be. I took a few photos and everything seemed fine,” he leaned, hitting a few buttons on the camera to show the photos he’d taken. Some trees. Himself. The car. Nothing to make a photography portfolio out of, but they were all missing that strange purple glitch.

“Hmmm,” Riley said, their grin growing. “I think I should test it out one more time.” They took a few steps back, turning around, taking a photo of Miles and Ian, who were both caught completely off guard. Their jaws dropped immediately after it was taken, which made Riley giggle.

Ian tsk’d at them. “Don’t take too many ugly photos of me. I have a very handsome face and this vacation should be documented with the real, true, honest depictions exclusively.” He grinned, looking to Riley to see if his joke hit.

His joke hit as well as it could with Riley–who wasn’t as much of a cackler as Miles and Ian were. Grin slightly bigger, eyes shiny. A clear indicator that he was being funny.

“Hey!” Vanessa shouted from the kitchen. “Brunch-lunch-dinner–whatever this meal is supposed to be! It’s ready! Go…go wash your hands!” She shrugged a little, not used to commanding a ton of people to eat at once. Normally, when they were together, they just randomly snacked, or ordered pizza.

Eventually, everyone was at the table. The lodge had foldable tables hidden in backrooms, so they simply unfolded them. Sturdy plastic tables, with grey rectangles and black legs which tucked into the bottom were pulled out. Although, one table was long enough for all five of them.

Miles sat beside Ian, who sat beside Riley. Across from Miles was Vanessa and across from Riley was Eve. They each had paper plates and paper utensils, and there was a huge bowl of chicken caesar salad in the middle. It was surprisingly not awkward to begin eating, people just passed around the salad bowl and the tongs and began scooping for themselves.

Vanessa watched as Miles dumped more and more salad on his plate. “You’re not starving ,” she said, raising a brow at him.

“Uh, I haven’t eaten all day?” He raised a brow right back at her to mock her, so she just rolled her eyes and continued eating.

They ate in silence, because people were hungry –even if some people didn’t want to admit it–and the food was good. Salads didn’t require so much seasoning, but they nailed it. It wasn’t gourmet, but knowing the chefs, it was top tier.

“What are we doing after lunch?” Vanessa asked, always eager to be on top of everything.

“Lake. Swimming,” Miles answered dryly, continuing to shovel salad into his mouth. He was not ashamed to show he was extremely hungry. Maybe he’d be a bit less rabid once they got the consistent meals thing in order.

“Thank you, Caveman Miles,” she responded, a mild eye twitch and a vaguely annoyed tone seeping through as she moved around lettuce with her fork.

To try and shoulder Vanessa's cold remark, Riley started up the conversation again. Everyone began to pipe in, and then their vacation was back to feeling like a vacation rather than a survivalist mission. Talks about what they’d like to do–Vanessa proposed making an actual list–vague threats of splashing once they got to the lake, neary everyone trying to shoehorn conversation about their new swimsuits into the conversation. It was all very juvenile, but joyous nonetheless.

Although Vanessa, Ian and Riley didn’t seem to notice, there was something that caught Miles’ eye. Eve was off. But not in the off-her-meds way type of off . Miles knew Eve long before she was medicated. Knew the shakes, the paranoia, the inability to put together a sentence. This wasn’t that. Her gait seemed to change at times. The way she ate didn’t even seem right. He tried to brush it off as being paranoid, as taking what his sister said to heart; after all, who worried about the way their friends held their forks? But still, something felt wrong. Something felt so wrong that it wouldn’t just fix itself . Like it was worth more than just dismissal.

But they were going to eat soon. Swimming was fun. This vacation was fun. For once, he’d just have to shut up. Swallow his pride the way he swallowed the salad.

After all, what bad could come from waiting a few days?

Chapter Text

It was hard to fully liken the feelings Riley felt with everyone else to any one experience. If they had to pinpoint it, they could draw the most similarities between their parents divorce. They were young when their parents had split, it felt like the moment they’d truly began to understand marriage and family , it began to fade. The flame of attraction being slowly snuffed out as both parents wore down. Sharp stones suffocated and smoothened by the unruly tide.

Now, finally understanding the truth of belonging and friendship , they felt like it was slipping by them as well. Tall, lanky, awkward and quiet. Who were they to socialise? They were fully aware that they had to make the first step, put themselves out, try . But they couldn’t–no, not that they couldn’t. They didn’t want to.

An undeniable truth that Riley admitted as they wrestled into their wetsuit, was that they loved Ian. With every fibre of their being, they just wanted to be with him. But they couldn’t leave behind their career. It'd be a waste of their talents to be anything less–no matter what their heart said they longed for more. Dragging Ian into the big city would be wrong, too. He didn’t want that. 

They supposed both of them were being pulled in opposite directions, for factors entirely out of their control. Riley didn’t want to leave a real, independent life. Ian didn’t want to leave the final few traces of his mother. Even if he loved them back, just as strongly as they did, he wouldn’t leave the memory. He’d sit in the dusty crater and revel in every lone molecule, so long as he could connect it back to his mother.

Riley shook their head. If anything, just to soothe themself. They took an inhale, before tying up their hair. They were going swimming. It was going to be fun. They simply hoped their dye job wouldn’t leak out into the water–it’d suck to lose all the vibrant purple–but they were decently confident, having used this brand before.

They shook their head a few more times–ensuring their ponytail was tight and trying to wipe the thoughts of a romance that wouldn’t be, similar to how you shake an etch-a-sketch to remove the design. Mind as blank as a canvas, they stepped out. 

They were relieved to find that they weren’t the last one out, although they were pretty close. It seemed like everyone was hinging on Vanessa.

Ian wore typical swim trunks. Navy blue with a small orange streak going down the side of each pant leg. He had his arms crossed, leaning against the exterior wall of his cabin. 

Eve wore a one piece with a lower cut in the back, as well as some sunglasses. Her swimsuit was black, and she kept her hair tied up like Riley. Her hat and overshirt were long gone, although she did sport some sandals.

Miles was standing at Vanessa’s cabin, an unamused expression on his face. He wore his black swimming hoodie, with red swim trunks. There was a beat of silence before Miles turned around and called to Vanessa. “Why did you pack like five different bathing suits !? Just pick one! Any one!”

As if it was on cue, Vanessa’s response came quickly–by a swinging door nearly hitting Miles in the face. “I did, Miles . Happy now? Beach time.”

Her bathing suit was cute. A purple bikini with small little pink stars spread across it. It matched the hue of her amethyst belly button piercing well. Vanessa wasn’t wearing her glasses–how could you when you were swimming?--and it made her look just the smallest bit different.

She brushed some hair out of her face, towel wrapped around her arm, flip-flops on her feet, before she made the initiative to move first.

This time, the trip downwards was nowhere near a problem. No slips, or falls. Riley trailed behind, just how they preferred to. Although this time, they felt a shoulder bump into them. Someone at least a little taller.

They looked over, and hoped their joy wasn’t too clockable. “Hey, Ian.” They gave a grin towards him. They always spoke quietly enough that they couldn’t be heard over the chatter of the three before them, but they didn’t need to whisper.

“Hi, Riley. Excited to go swimming?” He asked, gesturing to their wetsuit. Riley had a fondness for swimming, but not much of a fondness for exposed skin. Their friends had incorrectly assumed they were a surfer several times before. 

They nodded vigorously, their ponytail bobbing up and down. “I am so excited. I miss the water. I miss rivers, honestly…”

Ian nodded. “River water…minus all the, uh…fish piss…is pretty decent. Better than stillwater, at least, yeah?” 

Riley nodded again, glancing at Ian. They wondered if they were being awkward. Like they should say something, but they didn’t dare let their mouth hang open and let him know they were hanging on their words.

“We should have a chicken fight,” he said, which actually did get Riley’s mouth to hang open, but out of shock rather than hesitance.

“Me? On you? Nobody would stand a chance…” They laughed a little, bringing a hand to their mouth. Ian smiled a little bit.

“No, it could be Miles and Eve and Vanessa. All three stacked.”

Riley just shook their head again. “No way.” As they finished their sentence, the sand near the river began to become increasingly more clear, and before they knew it, they were stepping on sand rather than dirt.

Everyone went and laid out their towels, before Vanessa laid on hers about two seconds after setting it down, which prompted another grimace from Miles.

He grabbed onto her arm, pulling her to her feet. She gave him a glare. “Do not make me get in that cold ass water, Miles.”

“It’s July ,” he tried to reason to her, but Ian quickly booked away from Riley, to then run up to Miles and barrel him fully into the water.

Vanessa cheered from her towel, promptly getting back into a laying position. 

Eve just gave her a funny glance–maybe even a grin–before getting into the water. Whatever she’d done, Riley could read Vanessa’s face well. And she read that she did not reciprocate. That was strange, but maybe Vanessa was simply in a bad mood. There had been a lot of stress recently. Riley didn’t want to feed into it.

They simply quickly followed into the water. True to Miles’ word, it actually wasn’t that cold. The summer sun had done its work, warming it to a relatively enjoyable temperature. 

The only problem was that it was near impossible to see anything with all the splashing going on. Miles and Ian were probably wrestling or something or other, but when faced with so much splashing, one can only really splash in return. In the middle of their strange triangle formation, came Eve.

She carefully waded herself into the splash zone, just like she always did. Forever cautious, even if she was completely well equipped to handle anything.

She pushed her sunglasses up to her forehead. “You are going to ruin my sunglasses,” she chided, Miles stopping his splashing and glancing over.

“HUH?” He cried out, which just made her shake her head lightly. 

“I’m not repeating myself,” she tutted, jokingly looking away from him like she couldn’t stand him. That gave Miles an idea–honestly, everything gave him an idea–and he set his plan into motion.

“SHAAARK!” He yelled, and began chasing Eve. With the quickest reaction speed she could have ever mustered, she slid on her sunglasses and torpedoed away, accidentally tugging Riley with her. They winced a little.

Eve noticed they’d pulled them, and looked over. “Sorry Riley,” she apologised, doing a quick frown before Miles came barragging through and she swam off again.

Riley wouldn’t comment on it–couldn’t comment on it–but there was a brief pause after sorry. Like Eve was forgetting them? Were all their friends just doomed to forget them? The seed of worry planted from not even an iota of evidence would have grown if Ian did not sneak up on them.

They were thrusted on top of his shoulders, showing that Ian was indeed going through the ludicrous idea he’d thought of earlier. Riley, now elevated, could notice from the corner of their eye that Vanessa had made her way into the water as well. They weren’t sure how reluctantly.

Riley on top of Ian’s shoulders had to be over ten feet at the very least, so it did not feel too balanced. Miles noticed this, and decided to take a different approach to the fight.

He ran straight at Ian, knocking him and Riley over. Riley went flying into the water, getting fully submerged. Ian helped pull them up.

It was at that moment, when Ian lifted them up, when he looked into their eyes and asked Riley if they were okay, that they just knew they had to tell him. Nothing was too specific about the gesture. Nothing was so romantic about it, but at that moment, they thanked the higher powers for their dark skin, to conceal the blush that arose.

But feeling the heat on their face, they just knew that they’d regret it until they died if they didn’t say something, no matter how poorly it went.

The moment was gone as soon as it came, a quick ‘yeah’ brushing away concern and everyone returning to regular messing around, but Riley could not wipe it out of their mind. Even as time was ticking being spent in the pool, they still could not forget. They couldn’t help it.

Vanessa–per her request–was not so much soaked by the end of it, but everyone else absolutely was. She had been the first one to crawl back to her towel, where everyone now rested. They were soaking up the sun–mostly just trying to dry. 

Spending time in the water released tension, which was well-needed. Eve and Vanessa were back to talking, and Riley didn’t notice a trace of awkwardness.

The closest to a mishap was Eve’s fogged up sunglasses–an issue that would surely fix itself over a very short amount of time.

The sun couldn’t stay forever. They spent a good time sitting on those towels. Resting their eyes, sunbathing, talking about whatever they’d like–movies, books, memories–but the sun eventually began to set. They decided to head out before the mosquitoes would get them. Nothing ruined a vacation like bug bites up and down your skin.

They stood up, slid on shoes, shook out their towels, and began leaving, taking the uphill battle. They walked in the same formation as before, Ian right by Riley’s side.

Eve and Miles were in a discussion about sports, which Vanessa seemed too drowsy to follow along with, so the three didn’t notice that Ian had taken a pause right as they hit flat ground again. Riley paused along with him. 

He stopped, and he looked at them. But he didn’t say anything. His face read like he wanted to, like he was going to, and they couldn’t fathom what he would possibly want to say. But they had to speak their peace. There was no other time, their mind decided. Forfeit your emotions or speak them now.

“Ian, I don’t know what you want to say. I really care about your opinion, but, uhm, I just want to get this out quickly. I…” They sighed. “This is so difficult to phrase, I don’t want to say love but if you made me apply it to anyone in this world I’d have to say I love you. Because I guess I do.” They felt excited, but like they were going to vomit at the same time. There was a noticeable shake with each word, but they said everything with clarity and tried to not speed up. They wanted him to remember.
“I know I’m moving away. I know you don’t want to. I don’t know how we’re going to fix that, but I know I just couldn’t not say it. I couldn’t just text it later. And if I never saw you again…I don’t know.”

Then came the silence. The stunned look on his face that was unable to be read at the moment. Was he being confusing, or were their eyes too blurry? They expected rejection. They regretted every word they’d said now that they’d had more than a second to think about it. Awful, embarrassing. They wanted to take it all back.

“...No, Riley, I feel the same way about you.” Were not the words they were expecting. But he took a gentle step closer, taking both their hands in his. “I was…you know, you took all the words out of my mouth. I don’t know how it’d work. But I felt like I was losing you–and I wanted that even less, and I was talking with Miles and I needed to get it out too.”

They were overjoyed–but confused on how to continue on with this. They took a deep inhale, their grin too big and too genuine to even attempt at suppressing.

“Okay.” The first okay was just for comfort, just to stabilise themself in this reality where it did indeed begin to work out for them, for once. “Okay. What…do we do from here? Are we dating? Do you want to, uh, use labels, because if you don’t…”

He shrugged. “We’re…together, I guess. We know how one another feels. That’s enough for me. How do you…?”

“No, I’m totally fine with that,” they nodded again, a breathy half-laugh escaping their mouth. They didn’t expect this, and they were so happy they didn’t even know how they were containing themselves.

Ian made eye contact again, raising a brow to Riley. “Can I ask you one more thing?” He said, the look on his face being semi-serious, but nothing too concerning.

Riley nodded. “Of course.” It’d be ridiculous if he couldn’t ask them a question. But they hoped it was nothing too heavy. More news on top of news might just make them faint.

“Can I kiss you?” Maybe Riley would end up fainting for a different reason. They muttered out a quiet yeah , before the two got close to each other, Ian leaning in first. It was awkward for Riley, who had not kissed, but it was less awkward for Ian who had kissed once or thrice throughout schooling.

When the two split off again, everyone back in their cabins, fully drying, fully changing, preparing to eat a little more before brushing their teeth and sleeping, Riley couldn’t help but feel lucky. The worries of the future were drowned out. A kiss taught them to live a little more in the moment, and riding the joy of romantic epiphany smoothened over any discomfort.

They could finally breathe, finally let themselves have a good vacation. It was all falling into place, and soon her life would be a well put together jigsaw puzzle. Stuck together, beautiful, and right .

Chapter Text

Vanessa figured she was more emotionally in tune than the rest of them. Her theory was proven when Ian and Riley told everyone they were dating while they were brushing their teeth.

She pretended, of course, to be surprised. But she wasn't. And she could read the genuine shock on Eve and Miles' faces.

The realisation seemed to especially affect Eve, who smiled widely when she heard about it. For some reason, this unnerved her. She didn't want to give it a second thought. Eve had been back to normal, and they were talking just fine on the beach.

As she finished gargling down her mouthwash, the last one left in the bathroom, she looked back up at herself. She thought it was a little pompous to check yourself out in a crusty bathroom mirror in an abandoned lodge on some random campgrounds, but with nobody around to judge, she felt a little alleviated of guilt.

Her curls were still far from back in after just a day here, but they'd come in eventually. She didn't know if she loved the strange frizz. She fiddled with her piercings, sighing.

She turned around to leave, when all of a sudden a loud slam echoed through the bathroom behind her. A stall door swinging open and closed rapidly. The moment she turned again, the lights began to flicker.

She shielded her eyes, now grimacing at the strobing lights. She backed away, attempting to exit, but another slam and click behind her let her know the bathroom door had been locked.

For the third time in an all too short time span, she spun around and tried to peel the door open with both hands, simply bracing the strobing. This didn't go too well for her either, the lights quickly flashing off completely, leaving her in blinding darkness.

She moved away from the door out of instinct, and went to feel around in the darkness, but the lights quickly flicked on, revealing the room. All seemed to be the same as before, but a change in scenery caught her eye. Her line of sight trailed slowly to the mirrors.

That strange, strange symbol on the rock had been plastered all over the mirrors, in some sort of dripping black substance. Looked like ink, but she wouldn’t dare touch it. It slowly oozed down the reflective surface, making her gag as she felt her stomach drop to her feet.

She slowly scanned the room once more, heartbeat quickening as she swore she saw feet below a stall, and a head poking above. A far too tall man–with no distinct facial features or really any features of any kind. Aside from skin so very pale that it was white.

Just like everything else in this absolute nightmare of a scenario, the man–or monster–was gone within a flash. Everything was normal . Not even a marking on the mirror. Had she truly been hallucinating? She cautiously staggered right over to the mirror, eyeing the face she had just been critiquing. At this point, she was simply happy it was attached.

She lightly prodded at her face, gently combing fingers through her hair. She was still here, in one piece. Nothing odd had seemed to have happened at all. With a shaky parting breath, she rushed right out of the bathroom.

She took no hesitation sprinting down the trail to the campfire. It was a different direction than the trail, having to exit from the backdoor of the lodge, moving into the woods. It was in the same woods nearby the well, but a different section.

The group was already sitting around it. Eve was squatted right by the fire, watching it intensely. It was likely she’d been the one to light it, and had self-assigned herself as the one to observe it. Riley and Ian were sitting beside each other, fingers just barely intertwined. Their infatuation with one another was so obvious she could practically smell it. Their reluctance to act upon it made the stench of love a little…nauseous, in her opinion.

Then there was her baby brother, talking about something or other. Sitting across from Ian and Riley. Her face furrowed a little, and she felt a similar gut drop to the bathroom before. She didn’t want Miles to leave. She was scared of the idea of him moving away from her, being out of her supervision, prone to whatever harm could come his way. She was also scared of the idea of him staying. Falling victim to the whims of whatever misfortune had befell her, being in danger because of her and she’d be unable to stop it.

In a manner most siblings could relate to, she struggled to openly admit her care for Miles in the way she truly felt it. So much of her childhood she’d wanted to be the big sister to him, to protect him. So she chose to not be emotional or cry. Her family was never the I love you kind, so the behaviour wasn’t too unusual. In hindsight, she wished she had the strength to say it now.

She sat down beside him, her neutral resting face on full display as she fiddled with her piercings. She was in her pyjamas by this point, which was just a huge baggy tee-shirt for Fall Out Boy and some plaid pyjama pants. A cool breeze began to fall over the group.

“I wish I dressed warmer,” she grumbled, crossing her arms. She’d only made the statement once Miles had stopped going off about…whatever he was on about. She didn’t want to be rude.

“I don’t,” Miles responded with a smug smile on his face. He, too, had matching plaid pyjamas–something she hadn’t noticed until looking at him just now–and a different hoodie. This was the third hoodie he had worn all day. She eyed his outfit with a raised brow.

“Well, maybe you should wish for some fashion sense instead, then…” She responded back, taking on a rather flat tone before looking back to Ian and Riley.

Riley was brushing their bangs out of their face, looking at Vanessa before nodding. “I don’t like the wind either.” They were referring to her comment about wanting to dress warmer, not about Miles’ poor fashion sense. Although Vanessa thought it’d be amusing if Riley of all people began to dunk on how Miles dressed. They then gestured to their bangs.

Riley was wearing sweatpants and a tank top. They clearly did not relate to Vanessa’s plight of being freezing whilst two feet away from a fire.

Ian also had a baggy tee and basketball shorts on. He yawned, glancing over to Eve. He paused for a second, face clearly thinking on if he should comment at all, before he gently said; “Hey, Eve.”

This caused everyone to end up looking at Eve, who was watching the fire. Watching was a loose way to put it. It was more like she was getting lost within the flames, staring into them. It was like she had some supersonic sixth sense built into her, however, because the moment everyone turned to look at her, her head tilted up. Her hat was back on her head, so her eyes had a bit of a hidden look to them when her head was slightly tilted down.

“Wind’s good for the fire,” she plainly responded. “I don’t mind it.”

Miles just shrugged. “Yeah, yeah yeah…Eve, get away from the fire. Come–come sit beside me. I gotta explain this story and you’re gonna back me up, alright?”

A smile pressed against the corner of Eve’s lips as she lifted herself up and went and sat beside Miles. “Alright.” She looked at him, ready to hear his story.

“Alright, so it was like…the fuckin’, uhm…third or fourth grade or something. I was–”

“You’ve told this story before,” Vanessa chided, nudging him in the side and rolling her eyes. She had heard this story before. Many times. In fact, she was confident he was going to tell it completely wrong.

In the fourth grade, Miles had been chasing a kid around the climbers, when he ran face-first into a metal pole and got a huge nosebleed. He began to cry immediately and would not calm down until Vanessa stomped her way over from the big kids section of the recess yard and yelled at all the children there. Then their parents picked them up early and they spent the rest of the day on the couch, watching TV.

The story he proceeded to tell everyone was some kind of interaction that might have gone on between high-schoolers, or maybe even people in a gang. The playground was his turf , this one kid was so jealous, they got into a crazy fight, he made the kid bleed, that kid cried so hard, and everyone bullied him so bad he changed schools.

He was too old to clearly remember fourth grade. Especially with his memory, anyway. He probably only planned this trip because he needed something big and significant to remember his friends in ten years. Eve had been there, but they hadn’t been friends until high-school, so the story was likely misremembered simply because it wasn’t important.

Vanessa had been there. She’d been in sixth grade, and she’d been there. Most importantly, she remembered. She wouldn’t speak up about it though, she just sat there quietly, taunting him everytime he re-told this story.

The re-telling went just like she predicted. Full of sweating, stuttering, repeating himself, getting off-topic…and the same old untrue story. She found herself laughing anyway. Real laughter. Maybe she was just sleep-deprived. She had been hallucinating earlier, so she wouldn’t doubt it, but it was nice to enjoy the moment.

Everyone was back in their groove, overcoming the roughest first day she’d had in her life. A shitty sleep, a drive to a boring grocery store, Riley’s bleeding nose, Ian’s bleeding back , Eve acting weird, herself getting splashed way too many times…hallucinating…whatnot. Didn’t matter. Everyone was recovering and returning back to normal. She was positive, after a good night’s rest, she would be the same, too.

Only when she returned to her cabin, was she reminded of why she was not having such a great time. Left alone in her suitcase, right in the middle, staring right back up at her, was the stone. That wretched, disgusting stone. 

She quickly pushed some stray clothes overtop of it, to hide it from sight. She sighed, sitting down on her bed.

She wondered why she didn’t just chuck it in a lake, bury it underground, crush it to bits with a hammer. It’s not like the thought hadn’t crossed her mind tens of thousands of times.

However, just as often as ridding herself of the stone crossed her mind, there was an immediate follow-up thought. That she couldn’t rid herself of the stone. Mainly for two reasons.

Firstly, she’d never want to burden another soul on this earth with this stupid stone. If she buried it or chucked it, it could just as easily be re-found. If the misfortune in her life was deeply , truly attached to this stone, it’d be wrong to wish it on someone else. She also thought the stone was indestructible, so no hammer smashing either.

The second, and far more important reason, was that she felt like the stone was tied to her in some way. Parting with it would be like chopping off her arm. More aptly, it’d be like chopping off a part of her soul. 

She couldn’t explain this feeling, and at this hour, she didn’t want to. Enough thinking about this stupid stone. Enough reminiscing about the strange stalking that had since weaned itself out of her life. Enough thinking on auditory hallucinations. Now was the time to sleep .

When she dreamed, she had a very pleasant dream, for once. She was very young. Maybe three or so. It was strange how far back dreams could retrieve memories. Miles was there. He was around one, swaddled into a baby carrier, eyes shut, dark curls hanging overtop of his face as he sucked on his pacifier and slept.

They were in the living room. The idle drone of television echoed from behind them, and Vanessa was right on her knees, staring intently at her sleeping brother. Her father was downstairs in his office, and her mother was sitting with her legs crossed, flipping through a magazine.

Vanessa gently rocked his baby carrier. Miles grunted a little in his sleep and turned his head. Vanessa gasped, then turning around to look at her mom. “ Mommy, mommy !” She whispered excitedly. “ He’s dreaming …”

Her mother lowered the magazine, eyeing the two for a second, staring at her daughter’s wide grin, before looking back down to the magazine. “He’s disturbed. Don’t rock him, please.”

She turned her head back to look at Miles, frowning a little that her mother did not share the same newfound joy as her. She slowly got over it, rediscovering excitement in simply watching, waiting for him to move.

Maybe that was the culminating moment. The flick in her brain that made her want to protect him. She watched as his small chest moved up and down, as he slept peacefully. At some point, her mother went and picked him up. To go lie him down in a crib. She couldn't explain the pang of sadness she watched seeing him go, but she didn't wave it away. Didn't chase after. She just sat there, now alone in the living room.

Chapter Text

It was now around a week after the campfire. Eve stirred awake with an abrupt headache, groping away blindly at the dresser beside her bunk. She fumbled with the drawers, her fingers grasping around the familiar plastic shape of her pill bottle. She popped open the lid with her thumb, before pouring a few in her hand. One? Three? She wasn’t exactly sure, but she didn’t exactly care. All she needed was medicine.

Something strange had been happening since she’d arrived here. She didn’t dare tell anyone, but doing so was acting against her better instincts. She knew she couldn’t keep suffering in silence.

But there was always the lingering fear. How would they see her if she came clean about it? She was already some psycho who took pills. Schizoaffective , they called her. Although often times she felt more schizo de fective than anything. She was fine now , but revealing what may be a new symptom felt like prying a hole into her very being. It felt like they would stare right into her and see her broken self, early high school. The panic attacks and the hallucinations.

Memory problems. That was it. Some kind of dissociation. That wasn’t an uncommon thing, at least before she got medicated. The doctors had told her that her disorganised thoughts caused her brain to be unable to be “in the moment”, and that her hallucinations erased the real portions of her memory. But her brain hadn’t been cluttered. And she surely hadn’t been hallucinating. Just…gaps.

She knew things had been happening around her, but it was like sleeping. She couldn’t ever truly tell how much had passed. She often looked at the sky to tell. Being outside made it easy to note the shifting position of the sun and the clouds, to tell how long it’d been since she was last “awake.”

Alongside the gaps, came the nightmares. Nightmares were strange for her. She hadn’t had any since she was very little. Maybe eight at the oldest. The strangest thing of all, was that they weren’t traditional nightmares. No being chased, no violence…in fact, in someone else's head, it was likely calming. Long panning shots of the forest, the beach…

There was no rational reason for them to be horrifying. They weren’t empty, she could see her friends within them. Maybe the true horror came from the fact she didn’t recall any of this as memory.

It was as if the missing gaps had fallen between the cracks of her memory and slipped into her dreams instead. Eerily unnerving for no particular reason.

Tonight's nightmare was not telling the full story, that was the only thing she knew for certain. She saw herself walking through the woods in the darkness. She saw herself with someone ; her brain didn’t show who. She saw herself leaving the woods again, flecks of blood on clothes. Clothes she was no longer wearing and could no longer find.

She knew it was all related. It was impossible for it to be mere coincidence, for her sudden headache and her missing clothes to not be tied to the eerie feeling. Yet she couldn’t pinpoint it. She felt paralysing fear as she glanced at the door.

Don’t leave , something was calling to her. Was it her conscious? Something about it felt far more forceful, and far more distinct. It was like a devil on her shoulder. Maybe an angel, although the way this trip had been unfolding she sincerely doubted it.

She shook her head and let out a deep breath. She wasn’t hearing voices. Not again. She was anxious, but she needed to shake the feeling off and get along with her day. It was only now she paid attention to what she was wearing.

Baggy cargo shorts–that was pretty par for the course. Her jays hat was tossed across the cabin floor, her hair was down…all of that was unusual, but not so much as her choice for a shirt. It was one her dad had loaned her many years ago. She’d only brought it as a shirt she wasn’t afraid to completely dirty and ruin. It sent shivers down her spine that she’d worn it, and she had to blink back tears at the sight.

It wasn’t entirely normal to be ignored by your parents, so she’d learned. For a long time, she’d felt hysterical and unreasonable and deserving of it. When you had a mental disorder that made you fear your own shadow, people often discouraged you from trusting your instincts.

She’d never told a single soul and she didn’t believe a single soul would even believe her anyway. She was just another crazy, paranoid and delusional. Just another freak who would curl up and cry over things that weren’t there. With everything she’d imagined, how did she know she wasn’t imagining her home life alongside it?

But there was no mistaking the distinct feeling of emptiness. Emptiness because they’d forgotten dinner. Emptiness because they’d forgotten her .

She’d hated herself for being the way she was, despite the research suggesting it wasn’t her fault. Rather, it was theirs. It was quite a blur remembering the slew of doctors visits, being strung along from blindingly white building to blindingly white building; however, she distinctly remembered what was said on the day of her official diagnosis.

“Has anything,” the doctor pursed his lips, pausing before continuing on, as if he was carefully articulating his sentence. “Traumatic, maybe, occurred within young childhood?”

She didn’t answer, because she didn’t get to answer. Her autonomy was irrelevant because she was the crazy . Although, she didn’t know if she even wanted to answer. Or talk to anyone. She’d been so zoned out the entire day that it was likely she’d have just said uhm or hm and let it be over with.

“No, of course not,” her mother chimed in. “We’ve raised her the best way we could, you know.” She tensed a little. “And, well, we didn’t even want to come. It’s my sister, I swear…she’s been so up in arms about it all but…but we know nothing’s happened.”

The doctor gave a nod. If he pried, he’d have found nothing anyway. Her parents would never admit fault for anything.

“Well, then.” He cleared his throat. “It’s likely you two both had a matching dormant gene –meaning neither of you suffer the effects, but when your DNA combined, it created an active gene which triggered the disorder.”

She tuned out the rest but she got the gist. It wasn’t her fault, it wasn’t their fault, it was just a horrible genetic mistake that had progressively worsened until she couldn’t take it anymore.

That’s what she’d accepted for years. She’d accepted that the passivity in regards to her mental state was a mere oversight, a mistake. That it had gone dormant and nobody had noticed.

Obliviousness did not justify what had occurred. Her parents bore witness to her erraticism, but they ignored it before they could not. Ignored her . Pre and post diagnosis, she had been driven to be the best daughter there could be. Sports, grades, manners. But none of it earned a single nod of gratitude. 

The true straw that broke the camel’s back was her parents' adamant refusal of therapy. She’d moved out as soon as she could after that, and they hadn’t chased her. They didn’t hound her for money, tell her not to take what they'd bought for her, start disputes over ownership. They watched her pack and leave, unamused looks leering over her as she tugged the final zippers shut. You’ll be back in three days .

She hadn’t been back in three days. She’d never be back. She lived in an apartment, which she’d soon sell to go and live in a dorm. Goodbye to this rancid town, the horrid memories that plagued her every step, and the ghosts that lingered within empty hallways and closets.

All of that culminated and brought her to this moment. Wearing her dad’s t-shirt. It bore no design but a huge skull. Like a toddler having a fit, she angrily threw it to the floor. In a huff, she paced around the cabin to find anything else. She put on a breathable white button up, some lace-up Timberland boots and pushed out the door. It didn’t feel right, but staying in there felt like she was allowing something to rot further and further at her brain. She tried to shake the feeling.

Riley was outside already. They were holding onto their camera, filming the general outside. Over the past bit, they’d been glued to that thing. They filmed all the time.

They’d walk around, one hand clasped in Ian’s, and the other hauling around the camcorder. Videos of them swimming, group photos, photos of nature. Eve had skimmed through them, and they were quite cute. Although, there was one photo that had etched itself into her mind.

It was of her. She was sitting at a picnic table, eyes staring past something. Her hands were folded in front of her. The vacant look in her eyes seemed almost haunted. A creeping purple glitch had etched its way onto the digital print like a stain. No photos before nor after had suffered such a problem. She couldn’t help but wonder why.

“Hey, Riley,” she greeted. She was surprised to not find Ian attached at their hip. Riley’s head perked towards her, before she panned the camera over to Eve as well.

She turned her hat up so the video would catch more of her face. She offered up a smile, too. She wanted that to be the memory cemented in people’s minds, not the distant, forlorn looks she was giving as of recent.

“Hiiii,” Riley greeted back, their perfect teeth revealing themself in a form of a wide smile. “It’s so lonely this morning. Vanessa and Miles went out to get groceries, and Ian left a note that he was going on a walk.”

“Vanessa and Miles?” Eve questioned, brow raising. “You should’ve woken me up…them going together seems like a disaster.” She let out a small laugh. They must have taken Ian’s keys, since hers were still on her.

Riley nodded. “I think Vanessa told me they tried, but you were in a deep sleep.” They nodded again, squinting as if to recall. “ So deep. Like, uhm..sleepwalking! They said you just sat up with this, like…vacant look in your eyes.”

Eve shrugged. “I did wake up with a headache…maybe I hit my head on the way back down.” She walked down the stairs of her little porch, approaching Riley. 

She leaned beside their shoulder–over was simply not an option with their immense stature–and checked the battery. Fully charged.

“How many batteries did you pack?” She asked. The thing had been seeing constant use, so she was surprised it was still full battery. Riley must have been sweeping through batteries.

Riley shrugged. “It only died last night, that’s when I did my first refill. It’s, well, new…so.” They gave a small shrug, a timid smile on their face. “Uhm, can I ask you to do something for me?” They asked sheepishly.

Eve nodded. “Sure. What is it?” Riley was probably off to take more photos, or clean the lodge, or one of the many quiet activities they’d brought. A puzzle, a book, drawing, journaling…who knows.

“Ian left a note, saying he was going out for a walk, and everything.” Riley shrugged. “And I just…I have stuff to do, Miles is going to take me around for a tour around that gorgeous meadow, and I-”
Eve patted them lightly on the back. “Don’t worry about it. I do hikes often. I’ll go get him.”

Riley smiled. “Really? That’d be amazing, thank you…it’s just, I..I really wanted this flower thing and, haha, well…it’s a whole idea…”
Eve nodded. “Don’t worry, like I told you.” Eve had been down the forest trail a few times. Her general athleticism made walking and running in the wilderness a hobby. 

A myriad of honking ran out in the distance, causing Riley’s head to perk up with a nervous chuckle. “Oh, it must be Miles.” They scurried off, the two parting ways.

Eve stood there, left with herself. She thought it was strange that Ian had left without verbal notice, but maybe he was just enjoying the scenery. It was truly gorgeous out here, an immersive environment that took your hand and sank you into the scent of fresh pine and the atmosphere of selective beams of light poking through the skyline.

She took off for the path, tightening her laces and walking along the trail. The only flaw in the journey is how lonely it felt. Typically, she liked being alone. Today, however, something felt off. Like this was all leading to something horrific. Something she wouldn’t be ready to face.

Surprisingly, it was easy to tell where to go. There were heavy-handed footprints as she walked, the outlines faint, yet visible. Eve had a keen, survivalist eye. It was easy to pick up on things like that when she spent so much of her time outside, preparing for the worst.

The footsteps seemed to divulge off of the trail, leading into a darker area of the forest. Why would he have gone off the path? The choice was strange, but it was where she was being led. As such, she followed.

Making her way through a brush, she pushed a branch up to avoid hitting her head. How Ian fit in here was a miracle. The sun grew further and further as the leaves from trees formed like a leafy blanket, cutting out the sunlight.

Eve took a lighter out of her pocket, flicking it on, using the flame to look around. She couldn’t see anything until she crouched down. She shuffled through leaves, brushing them away with her hand. Suddenly, she hit something solid.

Fear seeping into every portion of her body, her gaze panned over to what she’d felt. She couldn’t see what it was. But it was pale. And cold.

She wanted to turn around and run away. She wanted to lie . Do something, do anything to hide herself from the reality slowly encroaching upon her. But it wouldn’t be right. She took a sharp inhale, fully moving the leaves and the sticks from the area.

She flinched when seeing it, careful to flick her lighter off incase she dropped it from the shock. Her heart was caught in her throat. She’d only seen it for a second–a mere second–but the image was fresh in her mind. It was so photorealistic, as though she’d remember it until her death bed.

It should have been fiction. But it wasn’t. In front of her laid the dead body of Ian.

There was no mistaking it. There was nothing to be said, no excuses she could make. He was extremely pale–clear blood loss–but he was tall. He had Ian’s hair. His green eyes were permanently fixed open, staring up at nothing. He was wearing his clothes. The ripped up shirt from the time he’d fallen down the well. 

The worst part was the injury itself. It was clearly some kind of wound on his head. His hair was tinged a reddish brown, crusting into each strand. He didn’t have that much, which made the pile of blood around his head also extremely visible. She didn’t know if he was bleeding anywhere else.

A clear injury of some kind had either dented or taken a chunk out of his head. Dried blood was bubbled and crusted around the area of injury. She wanted to throw up. She was so in shock she didn’t have time to think before her eyes were wet.

She let out a shuddering cry, violently tossing the lighter far away, as if cursing it. Like it was its fault that this had happened. Her cry turned to hysterics. She couldn’t be calm, she couldn’t be composed. She shook her head back and forth, trying to breathe.

The worst part. Beyond the gruesome sight. Beyond the fact his life had been robbed. The worst part of the entire ordeal was she could not shake the feeling that she had done it.

It was a ridiculous notion, but the creeping feeling turned to full on confirmation.

She dropped to her knees, sobbing and clutching at herself shakily, like she were to burst into pieces, when a memory showed up. Clear as day, like someone began projecting a movie into her head. No dialogue. No cohesion. Just shot after shot of brutality that had occurred.

She hadn’t seen the extent of the wounds on the corpse, but her memory gave way to revelations she wouldn’t have the strength to check herself. Slices on his torso. His arms. Blunt force trauma to the head, repeatedly until it cracked.

She hit her head over and over, until the memory abruptly cut itself out, like she’d ejected it from her mind. She wailed on and on. What would she say? What could she say?

She couldn’t have done this? Could she?

She knew she was feeling bad, that her medication needed a higher dosage. But it wouldn’t push her to kill . Mental disorders didn’t make you a violent murderer. Maybe it had planted this false memory to torture her. She idly groped around for her lighter, desperate for confirmation.

She lifted it, flicking the light on. She stood, warily approaching the corpse again. In the light, she saw the body again. Tears continued to stream down her face and she suppressed the urge to puke. By the body, were her clothes . The ones from her dream. They, too, were stained with blood.

No longer could she suppress it. She ran from the corpse, dropping to her knees and vomiting in the dark. She vomited and she sobbed, the disgusting bile–a mixture of caesar salad, marshmallows and oven pizza–poured all over the wildlife. The dead body didn’t have a scent, but her vomit was remarkably putrid.

She got to her feet, flicking off the lighter. She stumbled away from the puke, keeping her distance from the corpse. From there, she layed on the ground. She layed on the ground, and she cried.

Chapter Text

“I really love you,” Ian said. They were sitting on a bench, the last one to leave tonight’s campfire. It was by the beach. The two felt the sand brush over their toes, clad in sandals that were sure to be ruined for the next few days. The bench, made of old wood, lightly rocked and creaked with the unease of the terrain on which it’d been placed.

Riley smiled, a breathy “love you, too,” escaping their lips.  Their camera rested in their lap as they leaned their head into Ian’s, looking up to the stars in the sky. The air was filled with the scent of campfire, the occasional crackle breaking through the intimate silence.

In their ever-gentle demeanour, Riley pointed to the sky. “It’s a little hard to see, but that’s the big Dipper.”

He wrapped a hand around their waist, eyeing to where their hand pointed. “Everyone always notices the big Dipper,” he pointed out, humour dancing around his words, delivered with the intimate touch, sticking the gentle landing.

Riley giggled a little. “Okay, I’ll look for a better one.” They let out a docile hum, their eyes scanning the sky before they were pointing at a different spot. “Riiight there is Leo.” They nudged him. “It’s your sign.”

Ian lightly chuckled. “I don’t know a lot about astrology. Are we compatible?” He looked to Riley out of the corner of his eye, not wanting to turn his head and break their resting position.

Riley followed suit, similarly gazing out the corner of their eye. “Mhm. I’m an Aries. We’re compatible because we’re both fire signs.”

“Oh, really?” He studied the Leo constellation, trying to make out a lion. It honestly more-so resembled a rat. He supposed his brain just couldn’t paint a more imaginative picture. “Why’s that?”

Riley shut their eyes, yawning a little. Their head now rested against his shoulder. “Fire signs share a lot of traits. Passion, mainly.”  They brought their purple braid over their shoulder. It was fried from the saltwater, needing a detangle and a comb. But Riley didn’t seem to care. Ian didn’t care. He revelled in the salty scent, embraced it because it was theirs .

“ Really ?” He asked. Now he did move his head, lightly shifting his body. With the hand that wasn’t around Riley’s waist, he gently turned their head towards him.

Riley peeled their eyes open, a smile creeping onto their lips. They were repressing the urge to giggle as they met his gaze. Riley had gorgeous eyes. They were a deep brown, and the light from the nearby fire ignited a playfulness unseen. They were dark, but full of life. Nowhere near a void. Glancing into their eyes was like glancing into space. Distant, easy to get lost in. Reaming with infinite possibilities.

The more he looked, the more he loved everything about Riley. They were wearing jean shorts and a tank top with a black cotton unbuttoned button-up over top. He noticed the bits and places on their skin where they’d forgotten to apply sunscreen, the tiny flecks where their gorgeous warm brown skin deepened sporadically like freckles.

He loved their hair, the dye which had begun to fade, the roots growing in. He loved their black hair. He loved its waves, how it felt in his hands. How it looked tied up, tied down. How it looked freshly dyed and how it looked after weeks swimming and showering.

He’d never felt so deeply in love, and he’d never felt so sure to act on it. Before he knew it, the words came tumbling out his mouth. Corny, yet genuine. A cheesy pickup to solidify true love.

“You think I’m passionate?” Was what he asked before leaning closer to Riley, who immediately reciprocated.

They both embraced each other in their true selves. As Riley shuffled closer, Ian undid their braid and began to run his hands through their hair, as Riley brought their hand up to Ian’s head, gently placing it against his face.

A quiet, solace moment. Just the two of them relishing in their love. What other people might have said about their decorum was irrelevant. It barely crossed their mind. At this moment, there was Ian, and there was Riley. It felt right, and Ian wouldn’t have changed a thing for it.

As the two broke apart, Riley wiped at their lip and giggled. “It’s getting late,” they remarked, their grip snaking around Ian’s arm, holding onto him.

Ian nodded. “Let me put this out.” He grabbed for the disposable water bottle left behind, opening the cap and spraying the fire with it. He listened to the subtle hiss as the flames vanished into the sky, evaporated to smoke.

Riley stifled a few coughs and the two stood, walking together. Riley’s grip moved from his arm to his hand, and the two walked in stride with one another. They whispered sweet nothings as they made the trek up the long beach stairs.

Ian walked with Riley all the way across the empty plains, straight to their cabin. They let go of their hand, looking down to them, a polite smile matching theirs. “Goodnight, love,” he said.

“Goodnight, love,” Riley returned, carefully opening the creaky door so it did not make a sound before retreating into the cabin. Darkness swallowed their image as Ian heard the shuffling of them undressing for bed. He left the porch, returning to his own cabin. The scent of ember lingered on his clothing.

He was wearing his swim shorts–which had long since dried, and a t-shirt. It read, A chainsaw beats rock, paper, AND scissors! He had picked it up at Goodwill for less than five dollars. A steal, in his opinion.

He was too lazy to change, stumbling into his cabin, paying no regard to the creak or how loud it was. He stumbled into his bottom bunk, lazily kicking off his sandals, tracking sand everywhere. He didn’t mind it. His face rested against his pillow, and he shut his eyes. Dreaming off into a deep sleep.

Ian woke up in a horribly disorienting state. He could recognize by the mere feeling that he was no longer in the clothes he’d fallen asleep in. He was now wearing that same blood-soaked ripped T-shirt from weeks ago, and sweatpants.

Secondly were these absolutely blinding white lights. He was in the bathroom of the lodge, he knew that much. He could tell by the mirrors in front of him, and the green stalls on either side of him.

Thirdly, he was tied up. His torso was trapped in one of those tacky, blue, elementary school chairs. They were some damn good knots as well, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to break free.

Fear washed over him until he embraced the fourth and final fact. As he looked ahead, squinting, he could see someone in the reflection of the mirror. He could only see their back, but from their short stature and bright yellow hawaiian shirt, he immediately deduced it as Eve.

But he wasn’t out of the woods yet. He still didn’t have a single clue on how any of this came to be. “...Eve?” He asked cautiously. “What’s going on?” The room itself felt claustrophobic, more so as Eve turned around.

He could still only see her through the mirror–he stood behind him. Her face was shadowed by her baseball cap, which was turned down. She was holding something in her hand. He couldn’t see quite what. She moved towards him with an irregular gait. It held none of the professionalism Eve typically carried with her. It was relaxed, casual, and horribly sinister.

A hand was casually placed onto Ian’s bound shoulder, Eve releasing an exasperated sigh, looking up to the ceiling. Her sigh had more rasp, even. A distorting effect was layered on top, it almost sounded like a glitch.

Only now did Ian get a clear look as to what was in her hand. It was a machete. His eyes widened, and he wanted to ask more before the unfamiliar voice–laced with drops of familiarity-spoke again. “Well, I might as well explain.” She mimed checking a watch that she did not currently have on her wrist, seemingly unbothered by the reckless movement of the machete. “We’ve got hours, don’t we?”

It took a moment for him to re-collect his shock, sputtering a bit before looking back to Eve. “Are you okay?” The pit of fear remained in his heart, pumping the emotion through his body, with every beat, which was loud as a drum, thumping through his head and practically causing him to convulse.

“Me?” She put on a faux-shock expression. He got a good look into her eyes, now. There seemed to be a gleam of purple weaving in and out of her irises. “I’m doing great. But that’s probably because I’m not Eve.” She gave him a double pat on the shoulder before striding forward, looking at herself in the mirror. She tilted her hat up, looked through her teeth, fixed her shirt and whatnot while Ian sat there dumbfounded.

“What…what are you talking about?” He said, feeling colour drain from his face and hoarseness eclipse his voice. The emotional strain of the situation began to sink in, and he felt fragile and empty.

“Eve” now turned around, leaning against the sink, making eye contact with him. “I’m getting a little fuckin’ tired of you asking ‘oh what’s this’, ‘oh why’s that,’ so how about you just shut the fuck up and listen while I explain?” She flashed him a smile.

He just looked back with his blank expression of shock and horror, unable to even form a word. She furrowed her brows at him.

“Too harsh? Probably too harsh.” She adjusted her hat, tilting the bill up for a clearer view of her face. “Ah, well, whatever. You can call me Habit, first and foremost. No need for you to introduce yourself Ian, I’ve got a pretty clear picture already.” 

She–no, it–began to circle him, the tip of the machete dangling just inches above the bathroom tile, threatening to make an ear bleeding sound. Ian was still too shocked for words, simply deciding to sit quietly and play wise until he had more information to even attempt approaching with this.

“You’re probably thinking what the fuck is happening , which, honestly, it’s a pretty fair assumption to be making.” It kicked at one of the legs of his chair, letting out a laugh. “So I guess I’ll give you some kind of rundown.” It trudged back over to the sink, sitting down on it.

“So, I’m assuming you think I’m some kind of ghost. You know, a little possession shit here and there.” It shrugged. Eve’s voice sounded like it was struggling, often being overtaken by this distortion. The deep, underlying growl remained always. 

“But I’m no ghost. Trust me, if I even–” It began laughing. “If I even tried explaining what I am, you’d have a stroke right here.” It sighed, calming herself down and adjusting her hat. “Wouldn’t even need to kill ya.” 

Its’ legs swung as it sat on top of the sink. The body it inhabited–Eve–was so short, yet its energy seemed so threatening that it filled the entire room with the distinct fear of what was to come.

“As for why I’m here, what I’m doing…well, let’s just say, your group has something that I want. Believe me, you want me to have it rather than…” It tsk ’d, clicking its tongue a few times before regaining its’ train of thought. It seemed like it had no regard for the severity. Ian had pretty much shut down at this point, but to this creature it was largely irrelevant. 

“I guess something is not the right choice, no.” It drummed its fingers against the sink. “More like someone. Or something inside someone? I guess it’s better if I just tell you,” it said, laughing. “Man, thanks for letting me say all this. Really…nobody wants to listen anymore. Really gets me so…so choked up.”

Ian literally couldn’t believe this shit for the life of him. He was restrained, it had a weapon, and it had told him to shut the fuck up. This wasn’t by choice, not by any stretch of the imagination.

“So, you know Vanessa?” It looked at him. He didn’t respond. He didn’t know if he was supposed to. He’d been thinking of the same three things this entire time: how do I get out? What happens if I do? And most importantly, what happens if I don’t? His blood had long run cold, and all he was praying for was that he’d wake up, and this would all be a horrible nightmare.

It raised a brow, continuing to stare. “Are you going to say something?”

What the fuck was this thing–this being called Habit–and what was it’s problem ? Telling him to shut up, then acting annoyed he didn’t speak? He’d have been annoyed were he not so afraid. He couldn’t comprehend the duality of speaking to a creature while looking into the face of his friend. It wasn’t right. But it was true.

“...I…yes,” he mumbled out. The rope was so tight that it had begun to cause a stinging sensation up his arms. It was irritating, like a searing that grew more painful as the seconds passed.

“Great! Well, for reasons largely unimportant to you , she’s quite useful to someone like me.” It cleared its throat. “And I’m not the only one taking interest.” She scrunched her face, thinking. “Let’s put it this way–Vanessa here is stuck in a little tug of war. She’s in the middle of me and this…this stick-in-the-mud.” It cleared her throat. “By that, I mean he’s…a bit of a loser. Bummer, if you will.”

“Why…what does this have to do with Eve?” He was wary of asking the question, knowing that Habit seemed to flip on a dime. His best chance of making it out was to be obedient and pray it let him go of its own free will.

“I’m glad you asked!” It hopped off of the sink, feet landing harshly on the floor. “Means you’re really listening.” It cleared its throat, walking by Ian. It was barely taller than him, even while he sat.

“I chose this vessel for many, many, many reasons…I’m picky.” It passed the machete around in both hands, playing a twisted game of hot potato amongst itself while it spoke. “First of all, it was easy. Her head…” It cackled, eyes still focused on the machete. “She’s not all there. Even before I came along. But more importantly, she’s your crutch .” 

“...What?” He couldn’t even begin to comprehend what he meant by that. Was it good? Bad? How was she any kind of crutch ?

“Aw, don’t get jealous. You’re a crutch too. You’re…an emotional rock, of sorts. But Eve here, she’s…vital. She has strengths. She’s rational, she’s glue . She can pull you all together.” It chuckled. “The last thing I need is you all pulled together . Makes my life harder.”

Swiftly passing the machete to its right hand, it quickly slashed downwards, tearing through his sweatpants and slicing through his skin. It felt horrendous, as though the wound had been laced with salt upon strike. The sensation of pain rang clearly through his shins, and he’d have keeled over himself were he not bound. He cursed quietly, tears coated his eyes and blurring his vision.

“Aw, well don’t cry yet!” It then poked his knee with the blunt end of the machete. “That’s not even close to the worst part!”

Swallowing the emotion in his voice, he looked right at the entity. “What do you mean, the worst part?” The words felt like impending doom. Asking a question you partially knew the answer to, that you truly didn’t want to hear. But one you had to hear anyway.

“I told you,” it said, smiling. “You’re a crutch too. I don’t need two bodies.”

As the realisation sunk in, a feeling of panic coursed through his veins. It felt like a wild being had formed from his emotions, trying to claw its way out of his skin. He felt the blood drain from his face. He hadn’t said everything he’d needed to say. Done everything he should have. The road was unclear from here, but that didn’t mean it had to be a dead end. There should have been more.

He tried breaking himself free, the tight bondage digging so far into his skin that the irritation began to turn to laceration. He hissed as blood leaked through minute cuts in his arms and stained the rope.

Habit rolled its eyes. “Don’t struggle. Don’t struggle. You’re just being difficult.” 

He felt hopeless, being mocked for his final attempt to wriggle free. He just wanted to win, to see more of his life. He couldn’t speak, he couldn’t escape, and he refused to come to terms that this could possibly be the end. He wasn’t even eighteen. 

Habit looked him up and down, before retrieving something from Eve’s shorts. The shorts it was now wearing. “Thank you in advance, Ian.” It held his pin in his hand. The chrysanthemum. “For this. Didn’t want it to get all bloody, so..well, I took it from you.”

Ian’s body jerked forward, a last attempt to reach it, despite the fact his arms were well behind his back and not budging anytime soon.

A laugh faced his attempts once again. “Don’t wear yourself out, yet. It’s going to be a long night.”

Ian hung his head low, a tear finally falling from his eye, sliding down his face and colliding with the floor silently.

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” It patted him on the shoulder. “You’ll be dead soon enough.”