Trenton

The fire crackles behind Kylie and I as we are on watch. It’s about two-thirty in the morning, and we’re sitting back to back in the middle of the camp. My eyes grow heavy before Kylie breaks the silence.

“How do you manage it?” she asks softly.

“Manage what?” I respond.

“Staying strong. So many people have died. And you’re willing to help others, however hard it may be. It’s amazing how much you can stand without breaking. You can stand deaths and others’ problems. It’s incredible…” she fades off.

“Oh yeah… that,” I whisper softly. We sit in silence before I say something else. “I don’t.” We turn towards each other and lock eyes. I look deep into hers and brush against her consciousness. We merge and share all of our problems. I see her broken life, a life no child or teenager should ever have to go through. I see that she depends on me to help her because she has nowhere or no one else to turn to. I see her eyes, small flames dancing in her eyes from the reflection of the campfire. Tears well up as she digs through my past couple weeks, see how much sleep I’ve lost over worrying about other people. She sees that I cry alone every night, that I stay strong for others, but that deep down I’m hurting far worse than the others. I hear someone calling my name and I break contact with Kylie’s eyes. It’s Eric, sitting up in his sleeping bag, bleary eyed. He looks confused and a little bit embarrassed. I look at Kylie again, and she rushed forward to embrace me. I lock her in my arms, finally grateful for the comfort after a long time of loneliness.

“You could told me,” she whispers in my ears.

“I didn’t want you to worry,” I whisper back. I see Eric glance around awkwardly then crawl back into his sleeping bag. Kylie and I hug until Kathryn wakes up and tells us our shift is over. We reluctantly let go and crawl to our separate sleeping bags, but our minds stayed in constant contact throughout the rest of the night.