This chapter is more of a filler but it's still kinda important. Just wanted to know your thoughts on it. xx

Do you want to know what loneliness is? Well, loneliness is this. Sitting just outside your tent as the clouds roll over, hugging your knees because you're cold and then gazing through a dull wire mesh which is the only thing separating you from a world of laughter and chatting and company.

That's what loneliness feels like.

There's a part of me hoping to get the Power too. It would mean that guard coming round to my side of the fence and bringing me into the world beyond. It would mean Sarah welcoming me as another Camper. It would mean joining the others, all of us having something in common.

But no. Here I am, completely alone.

The clouds are a dull grey, and I think it might rain later on. So, I've sensibly put on a raincoat to ward the water off when it does come. Sometimes I think people inside the Camp are making the weather this way on purpose: cold and drizzly and depressing. Or maybe it's just simulating my own thoughts and feelings. Either way, it's going to rain.

Angie promised me she would get the others to move right up to the barrier so at least we could talk. They're taking a while and, whatever they're doing, I hope they're getting it done quickly. One more minute of this loneliness could kill me.

You know what. Maybe it would be better to die.

No depressing thoughts. I tell myself. Remember. No depressing thoughts.

So, for the next minute, to satisfy my brain, I think about sun,, and golden beaches, and a calm tropical blue ocean, and cold, refreshing ice cream. But when I look around, I'm on the fringe of a forest and there's still a fence in front of me, menacing and intimidating.

There's a sound. I turn my head in the direction. To my right I can see glimpses of a few heads, people all clustered together, for what reason I have no idea. But they're talking—chatting would be a better word—amongst themselves as though waiting in a queue to go on a rollercoaster ride.

I crane my neck to see what they're clustering round but the fence prevents me.

Someone calling. Someone with a harsh voice is telling them all to stay back and not to cross the line. They're in a line themselves, paired up like schoolchildren, like they're going on a fieldtrip.

"Hey, you, sir. No crossing the line," one person says. His voice is faint but clear, and I can still hear it. "We can't allow any more people onto the vehicle."

A vehicle. Oh, it makes sense now. They're queuing up to get on a truck of some sort.

As if in response, an engine roars to life and the murmuring of the people quietens slightly over the noise of it. Then, a huge clanging noise rises into the air and a loud creak, telling me the guard has opened the gate on the far end of the barrier. There's one on my end too.

The truck drives through it and out into the forest, to the right of me, heading behind me into the gloom. They've turned the headlights on.

I watch it go, scanning the crowd in the truck for someone I know. Inside there's a tiny figure, clutching a frozen blue blanket that's hanging over the side of the truck. I recognise it from somewhere.

It comes it me after the truck has gone away, still rumbling and the murmur of the passengers getting fainter and fainter. It was that girl I first saw when I came to the Camp. She had seemed so small, so fragile and had looked at me with averting eyes when I had tried to supply her with a smile.

I turn back around and give into the loneliness once more as the first drop of rain begins to fall.