Camp Cretaceous: What Do We Do Now?

by Ecaetheerein

We thought it'd be fun… We thought we'd be safe… But we didn't realize the horror waiting for us on the island. Claws, teeth, screaming… so much screaming. But despite the challenges, we survived the night. Well... some of us. And now that we've been left on the island, we're faced with the challenge of surviving until help arrives... If it arrives...

43. Ep43 Guilt

Author's note:

Welp, this is the longest chapter to date, taking Perseverance's title.

*Suicidal themes and thoughts warning!*

This chapter made me cry and tear up... several times... that doesn't happen to often... so tissues are advised.

Enjoy!

---

"Alright," Yasmina's mother says, gently slapping the towel down on the kitchen counter. "Do you want a friend to sleepover tonight, or should we try having you sleep on your own?"

Yasmina rests her chin on her fist. Her flashbacks, sleep paralysis, and separation anxiety made her desperate to stay the night with her friends. But while anxiety and PTSD had short circuited her usual introvertedness, it was still there. As annoyed, frustrated and tired of her friends she was after spending practically twenty four, seven with them, the PTSD often won out.

That being said, she understood that as she grew up, she wouldn't be able to spend twenty four, seven with her friends. There would be jobs to go to, life possibly separating them, moving around due to jobs or just life situations in general. Their separation anxiety was a result of trauma and PTSD, and their goal was to overcome those things. They would have to start getting comfortable being away from each other more often.

"Ben, Sammy, and Darius are trying a night alone," her mother informs her.

"What about Brooklynn?" Yasmina asks, her anxiety flaring up. "She can't be on her own, not with her suicidal thoughts. She can't be trusted with herself."

"Yeah, her parents are trying to figure out a schedule to have someone with her twenty four, seven," Mrs. Fadoula nods. "Right now they're trying to decide if Kenji or Milton should take the night shift." She looks at her phone. "Kenji's spending the night at the hotel with his father, and Milton is taking the Brooklynn shift."

"Heheh, the Brooklynn shift," Yasmina chuckles dryly.

"I can ask one of the others to come over if you don't want to be alone," her mother suggests.

"No, I think I need to try this," Yasmina sighs. "I do want alone time. They have gotten on my nerves lately. Just a bit."

"Kenji?" her mother quirks an eyebrow. "You two were pretty loud two nights ago."

Yasmina grins sheepishly. "That's him usually, but normally I get too irritated with him to continue it. I just happened to be in a particularly crazy mood that night."

"Well, if you need comfort, you can always crawl into bed with me and your Father," Mrs. Fadoula says.

"Or me," Ghaleb pipes up from the couch.

"Me!" Habeeba squeaks.

"I'm good," Jabari grins mischievously, provoking his older sister to throw a crumpled napkin at him.

"What movie should we watch," Mr. Fadoula says, ducking under the doorframe and approaching his eldest step-son. "The Meg or a survival show?"

The name of the first movie causes Yasmina's heart to leap to her throat. "Whatever you do, don't stop paddling!" she hears. It takes a second to place it as her own voice. Flashes of the looming mouth of the Mosaurus underneath her comes back, and she flinches.

"Maybe we shouldn't," her mother notices and grimaces, making a slicing motion to her neck.

"Sorry, comedy then?" her step-father asks, looking at Yasmina.

"No, you can watch what you want, I'll head to my room," the amputee says.

"Well, if you want to watch something, we won't exclude you," her father starts.

"No, I want to be alone in my room," Yasmina says. "Too much interaction."

"Fair enough," Ghaleb shrugs. Yasmina takes up her crutches and limps down the hallway to her room. Only when she closed her door, did her father and brother discuss movie options.

Yasmina finds her old sign. In her old house, she had a "Do not enter" sign she'd hang on her door when she absolutely didn't want anyone barging in. She hangs it on the outside of her door, closes it, and sighs. The amputee pulls off her shirt and shorts and lays down on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. "Hey! Over here! Yes! Here!" her voice comes back as she remembers the lagoon incident.

Yasmina grips her head and groans, gritting her teeth as she tries to drown out the flashback. "Stop thinking about it, stop thinking about it!"

She sits up and looks down at herself. Distracting herself from her memories, she examines her body. The athletic, muscular build she had worked so hard for was starting to fade a bit. She was still a bit underweight, and her muscles weren't what they used to be after sitting around in the hospital. "All my hard work…" she thinks. "All my training… all my medals… my goals of becoming an Olympic athlete… gone…"

Even though it had been almost a month since she lost her limb, it was still hard to believe. "Jamais vu, was it?" she wonders. "The feeling of something familiar being foreign?" Being a runner, an athlete, was so ingrained in her mind that it was somewhat hard to fully wrap her mind around her amputation.

Yasmina stretches out her hand and feels the end of her leg. She had gone through rehabilitation in the hospital to help shape the residual limb as it healed. Back in Maryland, the Pincus's had brought her to her rehabilitation team, although it had been a fight sometimes when she wanted to stay in Ben's room and not see any of them. Moving to another state meant she needed a new rehabilitation team, which her parents were assembling. The extended Gutierrez family members were very helpful, as some of them had ties close to what they were looking for.

Tears slip out as she gently massages what was left of her leg. She knew it was gone… but it was hard to accept. "The athlete" was her hobby, her job, her identity. If she wasn't the athlete, who was she? It was hard to let it go. She wasn't entirely sure why. The logical side of her knew that she could get a prosthetic and return to a semi-normal life… the other side of her wouldn't believe it. How could her life ever be the same again?

She groans and lays down on the edge of her bed and rummages through a box. She finds an old photo album, one that her and her family had affectionately dubbed the "Yazzy Book of Fame." Everytime she tried a new hobby, they'd take a picture or some other form of evidence and put it in the album. Ghaleb had one, Habeeba had one, and Jabari had one.

Yasmina sets it on the bed and flips through it. After her mother separated from her abusive father when she was nine, the Fadoula children had a newfound freedom they never knew. Through the Jaakobahs' help, not only were they able to get back on their feet and find a house, but Yasmina and her siblings were able to find hobbies and discover their interests without fear of being critiqued.

The first couple pictures were of her trying ballet. Leah was taking ballet lessons at the time, and for Yasmina who was used to being covered from head to toe and modest, the beautiful, feminine ballet costumes were exotic; rebellious in a sense, too. She hated the tights, but stuck through it for three years until the very existence of Leah ruined it.

The next picture was of her in her first running shorts on the track field. Running was always a part of her life, but it wasn't until Ghaleb challenged her to a race and she won that she realized it could be a hobby. She began to watch the track runners in the Olympics and her dream of becoming a professional athlete was born. That was when she discovered her stubbornness. For the first nine years of her life, she was submissive and afraid; there was no room for anything else. But when she found her goal of becoming a professional athlete, her stubborn nature was revealed.

Yasmina rubs her eyes, letting out a shaky sob. Running was how she discovered herself. Her stubborn personality, her strong will, her ability to push through the pain and hardships relentlessly. It gave her freedom and a meaning for her life. It provided a way to escape her mental and emotional problems and a safe way to vent her anger. Running was her life… running was her. How could she accept that she couldn't run? How could she accept that she was handicapped? How could she ever be the same without her leg? Without her natural ability to run?

Yasmina looks through the rest of her album. Gymnastics was next. She had tried that for two years. She did enjoy the hard work and the way she could push her body to do new things, but the performing, routine part didn't please her. After gymnastics, she tried soccer. That was a complete disaster. Not only was she a little too aggressive on the field, but team sports were very strange to her. After they moved to North Dakota, she tried hockey. Shockingly, that one stuck, despite being a team sport. Perhaps it was because she could be very aggressive in that particular sport… and getting into fights was a staple.

Two other sports she tried were pole vaulting and weight lifting. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy those; they took up too much time and it was more of a choice between them and the sports she truly loved. Cross fit was something that stuck for a while. She worked the cross fit workouts into her usual routine and felt stronger.

Her father had her try self defense and martial art classes so that she could protect herself. Jiu jitsu and Muay Thai were the two she stuck with up until she went to Isla Nublar. He also had her try out shooting rifles for hunting, but she disliked the noise and the kickback. Instead, she tried archery, and thus began her silently deadly talent that served her well on the island.

The last two sports in her album were Hip hop and swimming/diving. Ghaleb's passion was swimming and diving, as well as dancing. After a bit of challenging, the two decided to try each other's sports. Yasmina tried dancing and swimming, and he tried track running. The two enjoyed it, but it wasn't their hobby. She did experiment with a dance technique called Shuffling, though.

Other than pictures she sketched while at meets, all the activities she tried were physically exerting. If she could choose, she'd pick athletics over arts any day.

She flips to the last couple of pages and finds a particular photo. It was of her being tended to by a medic. She had torn her ACL muscle while running, but still managed to place second. Her silver medal was around her neck in the picture. Underneath was a quote her mother wrote in cursive. "Next time I pull a muscle, I'll place first." ~ Yasmina Fadoula.

"Where are you?" she asks in her head, staring at the quote. "Where is the Yasmina who vowed to do better even while injured? Where is the girl who was pushed to be better when opposed? What happened to the athlete who said F these odds? Where's my motivation to prove everyone wrong?"

In the past, it was her very nature that would say, "I will overcome." Now, it seemed to have completely disappeared. Yasmina searches within herself, but can't find the will to do it. She can't find the motivation to rise above her disability. "Could I do it?" she asks. "Could I come back stronger after losing my leg? Is it impossible? Is that why I'm not even trying? Is this too impossible for me to overcome? … Or have I just lost myself? … Did I lose that strong willed part of me? Have I completely lost who I am? I've already lost running… Who am I? Who am I now?"

Yasmina sighs. "What is the point of my life?"

She glances over at her nightstand. Next to her alarm clock was a tangle of strings, given to her by Sammy. After she had mentioned that her mental state was like a tangle of strings—difficult to unravel and a complete mess—Sammy had given her and Brooklynn a tangled mess of strings. "When ya unravel and figure out a piece of your mental state, you can remove a string," Sammy had told them.

"If anything, I should tangle up that pile of string even more," Yasmina thinks with a groan.

Looking around, she realizes her phone is not in her room. Sighing, she puts on pajama shorts, pulls on a baggy hoodie, and hops out of her room. Yasmina had decided that she was just going to retrieve her phone and didn't need her crutches. She could hop along using the wall.

Coming through the hall, her attention catches on the TV screen. Her brother and step-father had settled on watching a show called I Shouldn't Be Alive. Yasmina used to watch it with them pre Camp Cretaceous. It was a reenactment of survival stories. "We could be on there," Yasmina thinks. "Have a whole mini series about what we did to survive."

Her face pales as she watches the scene unfold. A man ducks underwater to search the murky depths… a crocodile approaches him… the scene gets confusing as the crocodile grabs a hold of the man and twirls him in the water.

Flashbacks to the island hit her like a freight train. "Grab on, Yaz!" Kenji shouted, stretching out his hand. Yasmina reached out, desperate to grab on. She kicked her legs as hard as she could, trying to push herself closer to safety. Something sharp and painful snapped around her left calf. By some miracle, her terror compelled her to suck in a breath rather than scream in fear as she was pulled under the surface. She heard her friends call out for her. She turned around to come face to face with the Spinosaurus.

Yelping, Yasmina pulls back and ends up falling over. Her head collides with the wall and she crumbles to the floor, a bit confused.

Her family jumps. "Yasmina?" Ghaleb asks.

Muttering something obscene under his breath, her step-father turns off the TV and jumps off the couch. "I'm sorry, we didn't know you were out," he apologies, coming to his daughter's side.

Yasmina doesn't see him. Blood billowed up in the water around her, clouding her vision as she panics. Should she punch it? Jab at it? Play dead? The Spinosaurus started to roll in the water. Yasmina felt pain in her leg as she's dragged through the water by it in circles.

She clutches her head and lets out a scream of terror, gasping like she was underwater. Someone wraps their arms around her, then another.

She felt disoriented. The surface was not discernable. Yasmina opened her eyes in the dark, bloody water. The dark mass of a rock on the muddy bottom came at her face fast. The next thing she remembered was coughing up water… Then the bloody, jagged stump that now ended her leg.

Yasmina cries out in fear, unable to forget the image of her leg. Bleeding, jagged, flesh ripped apart. White bone just barely visible under the blood. Muscle, flesh, and tissue covered in blood and ruining her appetite for beef.

The rest of her family comes to hold her in the hallway, trying to comfort her and help her through the flashback in any way they can. The sensation of her family hugging her disrupts the flashback and she focuses her mental energy into feeling their warmth and not the images and pains of the trauma. Her flashback ends, and she goes limp in her family's arms. Her family separates and her step-father picks her up, carrying her back to her room like a father with his sleeping toddler. He lays her down on the bed. "I'm sorry," he apologizes. "We didn't hear you, otherwise I'd turn it off."

"It's fine," she murmurs. "Thanks for holding me…"

"You don't need to thank us," her mother says soothingly, stroking her daughter's hair out of her face. "How are you feeling?"

"Just shaky," Yasmina mumbles.

"Want me to brew you some tea?" her mother asks. "I've found some that are supposed to help relieve anxiety."

"Yeah," Yasmina nods.

Her mother heads out to brew tea while her siblings come in. Yasmina turns on her side and Habeeba lays down in front of her. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not particularly," Yasmina sighs.

"Do you want to talk about something happy?" her little sister asks.

The amputee lets a small smile creep onto her face. "Tell me something happy."

Ghaleb lays down behind his sister and wraps his arms around her while her step-father keeps watch from the end of the bed. "Did you know sea otters hold hands to keep from drifting away?" Habeeba asks.

Yasmina's smile grows. "I can understand that."

"Boy puppies will let the girl puppies win, even if they're stronger," Habeeba informs her.

"Aww, such gentlemen," her smile grows bigger.

"Cows have best friends."

"Have to see what Sammy thinks of that."

"Dolphins have names for each other."

"That's a pretty cool fact."

"Crows have been known to play pranks on each other."

"Why shouldn't they?"

"Squirrels will adopt other baby squirrels if they've been abandoned," Habeeba smiles.

"Guess they have their positives," Yasmina chuckles.

"Turtles can breathe through their butts," Jabari butts in.

Yasmina bursts into laughter. "Of course, you know that one."

Her mother comes back in with a hot cup of Peppermint tea and Yasmina sits up, slowly sipping it as she calms down. "Do you want someone to stay with you?" her mother asks.

The amputee nods.

"I can stay with you," Ghaleb immediately offers.

Yasmina nods. "Okay."

Her family heads to their rooms to sleep and Yasmina and her brother settle under the covers. Ghaleb scoots his arm around his sister and pulls her close. "Your arm's going to fall asleep," she says.

"So am I," he mutters sleepily.

She chuckles and pulls the covers up to her neck. With her brother behind her, she felt safe. She could watch what was in front of her and be protected from behind. "Not that anything's in my room… Well, hopefully not…" she thinks.

As Ghaleb falls asleep and breathes lightly, Yasmina falls back into her thoughts. "He's such a good brother, I don't deserve him…" the voice reappears.

"I made the whole family move," Yasmina agrees with the voice. "I'm just a burden to them. Constantly having flashbacks and needing attention. Draining their finances with my amputation and whatnot… and it's not like I can repay them or anything…"

"I'll never be able to make up for it," the voice hiss. "They've done too much for me. I don't deserve it… I'll never be able to pay them back. How can I? I'm disabled!"

Ghaleb clenches his jaws in his sleep, grinding his teeth together. Yasmina flinches in irritation. She reaches for her phone and earbuds. "Ugh, what should I listen to?" she wonders. Her go to music gave her anxiety and seemed to further push her into depression… but she didn't want to listen to happy or soothing music either…

Texting Ben, she asks, "What songs would you recommend me listen to? I don't want happy stuff, but I don't want the music I normally listen to… Guess I want something relatable, but doesn't cause anxiety."

---

Ben was half asleep when his phone made a noise. He jumps and grabs it, anxious to make sure his friends are okay. "What songs would you recommend me listen to? I don't want happy stuff, but I don't want the music I normally listen to… Guess I want something relatable, but doesn't cause anxiety."

Ben sighs, then thinks. "Depressed music isn't really my thing, and I'd rather her listen to something uplifting…"

Going through their large "siblings" group chat, he finds Brandon's number and starts a private chat. "Hey, do you have any songs that Yaz could relate to that are dark but Christian?"

"Who dis?" Brandon asks. "I don't have you in my contacts."

"Ben," he texts.

"Oh, so what songs?"

"She said she doesn't want songs that give her anxiety, but she doesn't want happy music. She wants something she can relate to. She might not be happy with me about this, but maybe something Christian?"

"I got ya, bro," Brandon texts. "What's she struggling with?"

"Anxiety, depression, self hate," Ben answers. "Not entirely sure what as of right now, but that seems to be the general struggles."

"I think she could probably use some of the songs that got me through missing Darius," Brandon says. "She seems like she'd listen to NF, but nothing from him is coming to me right now. Skillet, now I've got a couple songs from them that I can see her relating to."

Brandon sends a couple song suggestions for Yasmina and Ben texts them to his friend.

---

Yasmina looks over the text Ben sent. "Would It Matter and Save Me (reimagined) by Skillet. Who Am I by Casting Crowns. Truth Be Told by Matthew West. Salvation and Never Surrender by Skillet."

"That's a rock band right? Skillet?" Yasmina wonders. "Casting Crowns… he sent me a couple Christian songs, didn't he? Typical."

Yasmina screenshots the whole list for later, then tries out the first song. Instantly, she connects with it. The depressed, pleading lyrics resonated with her mind. Voicing the thoughts she had a hard time saying… Would her peers and loved ones care if she disappeared? Would they notice? Would they be happy?

"If I disappeared or ended everything, would things be better or worse for my friends and family?" the voice asks as Yasmina puts the song on loop. "If I pulled myself together and fixed all my flaws… would things be better? Would it matter if I tried to fix everything? Or am I just a… a mistake? A flaw? A hazard…"

As the song plays on repeat, Yasmina falls asleep, lulled into a depressed slumber.

---

"You are a dictator!" Kenji shouts, his flaming torch illuminating his equally flaming brown eyes.

"A tyrant!" Ben shouts next to him.

"A monster!" Kenji spits with venom.

Darius looks down at them from the top of the staircase. "I am your leader, I would never hurt you," he insists.

"Liar!" Ben roars. "Yasmina lost her leg due to your incompetence!"

"Sammy is forever paralyzed due to your poor judgement!" Kenji condemns.

"Brooklynn is depressed due to your tyrannical rage!" Ben shouts.

Their voices begin to blend and shout insinuations and claims at the boy as Darius covers his ears. "If you could've swam faster!"

"If you could've acted quicker!"

"If you could've been tougher!"

"If you were braver!"

"If you were kinder!"

"I tried!" Darius wails. "I never meant to hurt anyone!"

"Who's next?" Kenji challenges. "Us? Your mother? Brandon? Who else will you kill with your inability to lead and your rage?!"

"Revolt… Revolt… Revolt.." Gravelly voices begin to repeat, getting louder and louder, pounding in Darius's head like a wild dino stampede. Darius apologizes to the voices and his friends, trying to make amends to their claims.

Darius wakes with a start, sitting up straight. He pants, looking around his dark room. "It was just a dream… Just a dream…"

Inside, he couldn't shake the unnerving feeling the dream gave him. The words kept repeating in his head, making him doubt himself and giving him a hard time falling asleep.

---

"I can't run," Yasmina pleads, sobbing as she looks down at her leg. "I can't do it."

"You have to run," her step-father insists, glaring down at her with irritation. "Run."

"I can't do it," she chokes out, in great distress. "I can't!"

Her step-father looks down on her with disappointment. His face made her hide her face in shame. Her failure to run had disappointed her father. "You're a disgrace to this family."

"I can do it!" Yasmina insists, changing her mind. She couldn't stand the thought of disappointing him. "I can push through. I can make it."

Yasmina forces herself to get up. She puts weight on her amputation. Running was impossible, but she began to limp along, trying her best to push through it.

"Do you care about us?" Darius asks. Yasmina turns to look at him. He and the others were standing behind her on the sidelines.

"You can't push through," Brooklynn sobs. "That's how we get hurt."

"That's why you can't run in the first place," Sammy insists.

"I can push through," Yasmina says. "I can do it."

"But you can't," Ben says, approaching her and taking her hands in his. "You destroy yourself and the rest of us when you try."

"Yasmina!" her step-father snaps. She turns to see her family looking at her in disappointment. "You're nothing without your speed."

Yasmina covers her face and crumbles to her knees, sobbing as she feels forced to choose between sides.

Her eyes open and tears slip out. The agony of choosing between loved ones lingered. She couldn't shake the feeling it gave her… Why did it feel so real? Her parents weren't forcing her to run. Her friends weren't dying if she tried. Why did it feel so real…

Though it didn't surprise her, she was still horrified to realize she couldn't move. She knew Ghaleb was behind her, but there once again was a sinister presence in her room. "Not again, not again!" she pleads, wishing her sleep paralysis would go away for good. Despite how long she had had sleep paralysis, she still tried to move a muscle; to no avail, though.

Yasmina can hear heavy, raspy breathing from the end of her bed. The sound of claws clink on the floor as the creature stalks towards her. She tries not to breathe too hard, hoping it would leave if it thought she was dead. The creature cackles. It was like a sound from Hell. It was as if a hyena had bred with the Scorpius rex and Satan himself had possessed the cursed hybrid.

If she could jump, she would've. The monster tackles her, pressing down on the right side of her rib cage. Her chest constricts; she struggles to breathe.

As Yasmina silently chokes, the monster leans down. She can see its black, scaly humanoid body out of the corner of her eye. The creature growls in her ear with a gravelly voice, "No one will save you… and if they do, they won't survive."

Yasmina drifts back into sleep as the creature growls more threats into her ears.

In the morning, she wakes with a start, sitting up straight. Her brother snorts. "What?" he grumbles sleepily.

"Bad dream," she sighs, flopping back down.

"You fell asleep with your headphones on," he mumbles. "Took them out and charged them."

"... Thanks," Yasmina says softly. She hated it when she fell asleep with her headphones and phone. Often led to the battery being dead the next morning and her having to sit through breakfast with nothing. "I don't deserve you…" she thinks.

The Fadoula children eat breakfast, get dressed, and prepare for school. "Come on, get dressed," Mrs. Fadoula urges. "I already prepared your backpack."

Yasmina tiredly glares at her. "I can't graduate this year. Why am I going? It's pointless. Absolutely pointless."

"You have to go to school," her mother sighs. "For education."

"But I've missed so many days, I can't catch up," Yasmina argues. "Plus, if all I'm trying to do is catch up and get a good grade on that, I'm not actually learning anything. Even if I could somehow finish all my work, I'm not even allowed to graduate. And even if I try to actually learn my studies for the next year, I can tell you now, it won't work. I could barely focus in class with my sound sensitivity pre camp. Now add PTSD and depression, plus doctors visits, therapist visits if I have to, and other crap, I'm not going to learn zip at school."

Her mother sighs. "I don't make the rules."

"It's just a stupid way to pass the time now," Yasmina insists. "If I'm not learning anything or graduating, I'm wasting my time at school. And I guarantee the others won't learn anything either. Brooklynn's depression won't help anything. It's completely pointless. I'd rather be homeschooled."

"You know why we didn't want to homeschool you guys," her mother plants her hands on her hips.

"Cause you were afraid I wouldn't get socialization and would become a hermit," Yasmina laughs. "Mind you, school only forced me to be around kids I disliked and I was determined to become a hermit, anyway. But if the others are homeschooled, too, then we can hang out together."

"Yasmina," her mother groans.

"The main point you picked public school over homeschool was so we could make friends," Yasmina points out. "School never did that for me. Camp did."

"Get off your homeschool soap box," her mother laughs wearily.

"I'll get back on it later," Yasmina chuckles, heading to get dressed.

"Why are you my most difficult child?" her mother asks with a laugh, not seeing the expression of pain and guilt that passes over her daughter's face.

Yasmina drearily gets dressed in a black hoodie and black shorts. Her mother drops her, Ghaleb, and Jabari off at their school building, which was a combination of middle school and high school. Mr. Fadoula dropped Habeeba off at her elementary school a few minutes down the road before heading off to his first day at work. He had found a job as a personal trainer for the time being.

Her brothers head into the building. "Do you need help getting to your class?" Ghaleb asks.

"No, go on ahead," Yasmina sighs. "Just need to collect myself."

"You'll be fine, honey," her mother says, giving her a side hug and a kiss on the forehead. "Brooklynn and Sammy should already be in there."

Yasmina sighs. "Alright, love you, Mom."

"Bye, Yazzy," her mother says, waiting in her car until Yasmina headed into the building in case she needed something.

As the amputee slowly limps up to the school building—really, she was stalling going to school—two girls come up behind her. "Come on, you're going to be late for school, Nalanie!" the older girl teases.

"Shut up," the younger girl, Nalanie, huffs, irritatedly speed walking into the building to avoid her sister.

Yasmina looks at the older girl, who seemed about her age. "Don't talk to me, don't look at me, leave me alone," she worries, looking at the ground to avoid eye contact.

Unfortunately, the girl didn't seem to get the memo. "Hey," she says. "What's your name?"

Yasmina internally groans. "Yasmina," she mumbles.

"That's a cool name," the girl says, coming up alongside her as she limps with her crutches. "My name's Mariana Scalapino. That's my younger sister Nalanie. Are you new to the school or the area?"

"Everything," Yasmina grumbles.

"Oh, welp, welcome to the neighborhood," Mariana says. "I don't go to school here. I'm homeschooled. That might be why I'm so talkative. My sister complained a little too much about her school work, so Mom decided to send her to public school for a year. She's very happy to continue being homeschooled after this year ends. Maybe she'll be more grateful."

"Shut up!" Nalanie snaps as she enters the school building.

"Thank God I can't possibly be in the same class as you," Yasmina thinks, relieved.

"Mom has me walk her to school every morning," Mariana continues talking. "I'll be happy when I don't have to anymore."

"Oh," Yasmina nods, trying to pick up the pace to get away from the girl. She wasn't too fond of talking to strangers.

"Would it… upset you if I asked what happened to your…" Mariana trails off.

"Uh, yeah, it actually would," Yasmina huffs, her irritation showing through.

"Understandable," Mariana says, backing up as Yasmina climbed the stairs. "Well, nice meeting ya!"

Yasmina turns to watch her head home. A lump forms in her throat when she sees the back of the homeschooler's legs. She had capri jeans on and black converse, but her calves were made of silver metal. Both of them. "She's a double amputee," it dawns on her. "She was curious because she knows the feeling."

"And I was a jerk to her," the voice of guilt condemns. "I could've had a new friend who understands my struggle, but of course, I pushed her away by being rude. I'll never change."

Despairingly, she limps into school.

---

"Okay, you got this," Brooklynn gives herself a little pep talk. "A lot of Youtube supports you. Leah did apologize and admit the truth. You didn't do anything wrong, and she admitted that. Your followers, TRUE followers want to see you again. You're gonna set the story straight once and for all about the frequently asked questions. You got this, Brook. You got this."

"What if they don't believe me?" the voice of doubt asks.

Forcing herself to push away the doubt, Brooklynn starts recording herself. She takes a moment to collect her thoughts and figure out what she wants to say. She could edit the video later and cut out what she didn't want. Putting on her fake, cheery smile, she waves to her yet to exist viewers. "What's good Brooklanders? It's your girl, Brooklynn, coming back to Youtube. In today's video, I'm going to answer all of the Internet's most frequently asked questions about me and the others' experiences."

"Cause y'all been pretty curious about us," Sammy laughs, wheeling herself into Brooklynn's room.

"Is this live?" Yasmina asks, limping in as well.

"No, I just started recording," Brooklynn says.

"Must be awkward when you're just talking to your phone," Yasmina grins dryly as she leans on her crutches.

Brooklynn rolls her eyes. "I'll edit later. There's a chair over there if you wanna sit down."

"Nah, I don't want to be in the video," Yasmina says. But she didn't move out of sight of the camera.

"Alright, first off, I'd like to introduce my two friends, Sammy and Yasmina," Brooklynn pulls up her smile and gestures to her friends.

"I'm not in the video," Yasmina says, still not moving out of sight.

"You guys have met Kenji and Ben," Brooklynn says. "I think the only one who's yet to be in my videos is Darius."

"Well, ya recorded him at Camp," Sammy points out.

"Yeah, so I guess everyone's been on camera at some point now," Brooklynn nods.

"I'm not on camera," Yasmina says, still standing behind Brooklynn.

The Superstar glares off into space before addressing her friend. "Then why are you still in view?"

The amputee shrugs and sits off camera in the chair.

"Well, I think the most asked question is 'What happened between you and Leah?'" Brooklynn starts out. "Don't antagonize Leah, don't say anything she would take the other way…" she tells herself, choosing her words very carefully. "It's… complicated."

Deciding it was worth being on camera, Yasmina moves the chair over into the camera's line of sight. The sound of the chair scratching against the floor gave Brooklynn anxiety; Yasmina was not going to be nice about her ex friend. "No, it's not. She was a b****, plain and simple."

"Language!" Sammy protests like usual.

Brooklynn sighs. "Unfortunately, Yasmina and Leah have… a past. She's… working on forgiving Leah, right, Yaz?"

The older girl shrugs unapologetically. "Yeah, but she's not exactly making the list shorter."

"I think things would've gone better if Leah hadn't put all the blame on Yasmina," Sammy butts in.

"No, stop it! You're just going to make things worse!" Brooklynn panics.

"Yeah, that's sure as h*** not going to make me like you anymore," Yasmina chuckles dryly.

"Language!" Sammy snaps.

"If all else fails, make Sammy's 'language!' into a meme," Brooklynn decides. "Well, she apologized publicly, so I'm willing to put it behind me. Yaz?"

"We'll see how long I last," the amputee shrugs.

"Okay, the second most asked question is 'What happened on the island?'" Brooklynn decides to move on. "Unfortunately, that would require the boys and a several part story video, so we'll slowly answer that one in other frequently asked questions. Another one is 'How did we get our injuries?'"

"You're gonna answer that one?" Yasmina quirks an eyebrow.

"It's not… such a big deal anymore," Brooklynn grimaces. Her friends give her a look. "If I can't handle the idea of letting it out, I can cut it out of the video," she promises.

"Okay," Sammy says quietly.

"Are you guys fine with yours going out?" Brooklynn asks.

"Yeah, you can say what happened," Sammy shrugs. "It was hard but… it's not a sensitive subject."

Brooklynn and Sammy describe to the camera how the cowgirl got paralyzed, while Yasmina sits solemnly to the side. "It can't get out," she thinks worriedly. "It can't… my weakest moment… my cowardly moment… it's my fault Darius is injured, and that moment is the main reason…"

"Yaz?"

"Hmm?" Yasmina lifts her head.

"Would it be okay if I explained what happened to you?" Brooklynn asks.

"I…" Yasmina hesitates.

"If you're uncomfortable, it's okay," Brooklynn backpedals.

"She wants to tell it," the voice hisses. "It makes her happy to please the Internet. I'm holding her back."

"No… you can say it," Yasmina says, forcing a slight smile. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" Brooklynn asks hesitantly.

"Yeah, it happened, there's nothing we can do about it," Yasmina shrugs, pretending to be nonchalant about it. "Why act like it's taboo?"

A look passes over Brooklynn's face. Was it Yasmina's imagination, or did Brooklynn look a little irritated by Yasmina's response?

"Well, it was the day after Sammy became paralyzed," Brooklynn starts, giving Yasmina no time to interrogate her about the look. "The rescue team was on the other side of the island. We had to cross the Cretaceous river to get there. Kenji went with Sammy first, since she was paralyzed."

Sammy shudders in the background at the mention of the water.

"After him, Yasmina swam with Ben, since he couldn't swim," Brooklynn explains.

Yasmina closes her eyes and gulps. "Why… Why didn't Brooklynn go with Ben and I go with Darius? Or they all go before me? Why did this have to happen?"

"Then I swam over next, and Darius followed up behind me," Brooklynn continues. "That's when Kenji and Sammy saw the sail of the Spinosaurus."

Yasmina has a flashback to that moment. That moment when she glanced downstream and saw the silver and ruddy orange sail gliding menacingly up to them.

"Yaz?" Sammy whispers.

"I'm good," the amputee quickly says.

"You sure this is okay?" Brooklynn asks.

"I'm good," Yasmina insists.

"Okay…" Brooklynn sighs. "Yaz and Ben had made it over to the other side by that time. We all started swimming faster. Darius isn't good at swimming, so Yaz made her way over to him to help. Let's… Let's just say that neither of them would make it."

"Then why didn't I die?!" the voice of guilt shouts at the amputee.

"While Darius swam for his life, Yaz let herself drift downstream towards the Spinos," Brooklynn breaks the guilt monologue. "When Darius arrived at the other side, she began to swim back."

"Why did I do that?!"

"She couldn't make it in time," Brooklynn sighs. "The Spino grabbed her by her left leg and… pulled her under. The Spino began to spin in the water, trapping her in a death roll to disorient her and tear her apart like a crocodile."

"Why did I say she could say this?! Why did I say this could go out?!"

Yasmina is just about to ask Brooklynn to stop when the girl says something that chills her to the bone. "I figured there was only one way to save her with the resources we had," Brooklynn says.

The amputee realizes she never knew how they rescued her. She was knocked out when she hit the rock. "How did they rescue me from the Spinosaurus…?"

"I know Doctor Wu used other reptilian DNA to fill in the gaps of the DNA genome," Brooklynn continues. "If it was rolling her in crocodilian-like behavior, I took a chance and assumed it had a palatal valve—a flap of skin at the back of the throat of a crocodile that keeps water out so that they don't drown. It would need that so that it doesn't drown while hunting. I didn't know for sure, but with Yaz's life on the line… I was willing to take that chance. There was nothing else we could do."

Yasmina felt numb. "What are you saying…?"

"So, taking the chance, I jumped in the water," Brooklynn explains, making Yasmina's heart beat faster. "The Spino stopped spinning, so I reached in and pushed on the palatal valve. The dino let go of Yaz and swam to the surface. As I… as I was trying to carry her to the surface, the second Spino came and… slashed at my eye."

Yasmina's stomach leaps to her throat, then drops to her gut. "What…?" she says softly, blinking rapidly. "You… you lost your eye… saving me?"

Brooklynn turns to her and nods.

Tears slip out, refusing to cooperate. "That's how you lost it?" Yasmina says softly, her voice cracking at the end.

"Yeah," Brooklynn nods. "And I'd lose the other eye for you if I had to."

Yasmina purses her lips and squeezes her eyes shut tightly, tears slipping out as she attempts to hold back her crying. Brooklynn leans forward and pulls her friend into a hug. The amputee wraps her arms around the younger girl, freely crying now. "You did that for me?" she mumbles through her sobs.

"Of course," Brooklynn nods, crying herself now. "Of course, I'd do it all over again for you! I love you, Yaz. You're like my older sister."

"I'd do it to, for both of ya," Sammy says, wheeling herself around to join the hug.

"Thank you…" Yasmina sniffs, pulling back and attempting to compose herself. She didn't have the heart to explain the real reason why she was crying…

"She lost her eye because of me… She lost her eye because of me… I'M the reason for her insecurity…" the voice of guilt hisses again.

Brooklynn finishes answering a few more most-frequently-asked questions before ending the video. "Well, anything you guys want me to cut out?" Brooklynn asks, spinning her chair around to face her friends. "Anything you don't want out on the Internet?"

Part of Yasmina never wanted anyone to know what happened. She didn't want to be reminded of how it was her that caused her friend to lose her eye. The other part of the amputee didn't want to put up a fight. It happened, and she couldn't deny that it was her fault. She was a horrible friend, and there was no escaping it. "Let the world know… they'll find out eventually…" guilt whispers.

"Maybe they would hate me for my failure," another voice suggests. "Maybe then my friends would hate me… Maybe then they would realize I'm toxic to them and cut me off… Maybe then if I ended my life, it wouldn't destroy them… I could leave for good… Leave this horrible world… It would be better for my friends… Better if they didn't know me…"

"Yeah, it's fine, you can post that," Yasmina nods, pulling up her nonchalant face.

"Even the part of you crying?" Brooklynn asks in confusion.

"It's fine," the amputee shrugs. "It… It was a touching moment. I'm fine with it."

"Okay…" Brooklynn gives her a suspicious look, but doesn't push it further.

That night, Yasmina stays over at Darius's house. Darius was sitting under his covers, flipping through some dino fact cards. His room had been mostly unpacked. Now it was down to organizing and setting up trinkets and unimportant items.

The girl sat on the right side of his bed, lost in her self-hating thoughts. "It's my fault… It's always my fault… my friends would be better off without me… Why am I still here?"

"Yaz," Darius says, breaking her of her thoughts.

"Hm?" she blinks, turning to him.

"What's so interesting about my wall?" he asks. "You've been staring at the same spot for five minutes, now."

"I'm just zoning out," she says vaguely, going back to staring at his wall. She couldn't even say what color it was, despite staring intently at it; she was too deep in thought.

"Hey, zone back in," Darius says. He moves his good leg to bump her behind.

"What?" Yasmina asks.

"You good?" he asks, absentmindedly shuffling the cards.

"Yeah," she lies.

"I know you're not," Darius raises an eyebrow slightly. "What's wrong?"

The girl groans and lets her head flop back, feeling her long hair touch the bed. She had been lying about her mental state quite a lot. She didn't want to be a liar, but she didn't want to talk about it either.

"Don't lie," Darius says, almost reading her mind. "I know you. You're not okay. Something's bothering you, and it has been for a while. What happened?"

"I found out how Brooklynn lost her eye today," Yasmina says numbly, staring at the wall again.

"Is that what this is about?" he asks, tilting his head to try to see her face.

"Possibly," she answers vaguely.

"What's bothering you about it?"

"Nothing."

"Don't lie."

"Maybe I just don't want to say it."

Darius groans. "It's just… you haven't been the same since we got back from the island."

Yasmina barks out a laugh. "Are any of us the same? After all that we've been through, of course we're going to come back different!"

"It's just that you seem to have lost yourself," Darius says quietly.

"Who?!" Yasmina snaps. "You only knew me under pressure and danger, Darius! Who's to say that's the real me?! Maybe this is the real me!"

"What? So you're not the hardcore athlete who stubbornly opposes all odds because she can?" Darius retorts.

Yasmina lets out a frustrated shout, turning away from him so that the boy couldn't see the hot tears of shame and anger racing down her cheeks. "Because she can, because she can," rings around in her head.

"I'm reckless and stupid," the voice hisses. "I'm a daredevil. I put myself in danger just because I can. I put my friends in danger through my stunts…"

"Don't you see? You were the strongest among us," Darius sighs, practically pleading with her. "It's like you're giving up on that fearless, strong side of you."

"Fearless? Fearless?!" Yasmina barks, turning around to face him. She didn't care if he saw the tears running down her face; something inside her had snapped when he said that word. "What do you call this then?!" She points to her leg stump. "Selflessness? Heroism? Bravery?!"

Darius opens his mouth to answer, his eyes watery as he watches her break. Yasmina stops him. "No! You know what I call it?! Stupidity! Recklessness! Cowardly!"

"Yaz," he whispers quietly.

"You guys act like this is a symbol of my courage and selflessness, but it's not!" she shouts, tears staining her face against her will. "It's supposed to represent how I sacrificed my life for you, but I'm still here! I didn't sacrifice myself for you! It's a symbol of how I coward!"

"No, it's—"

"I couldn't die Darius!" Yasmina shouts, her voice shaking with emotion. "I couldn't die! I had to turn around and try to live instead of accepting my fate! I tried to backpedal out of saving you because I was too scared of dying! After all my talk, after all my promises, I couldn't go through with death for you!"

"Yaz, you did save me," Darius argues, tears slipping out.

"Did I?!" she shouts. "I harmed you! And on top of that, Brooklynn got caught up in the mess! If I had just died, you guys would've moved on! Brooklynn wouldn't have had to jump in and lose her eye! You guys wouldn't have run into whatever did this to you!" she points to his cast. "If I hadn't slowed you guys down, you would've made it!"

"Yaz, none of that is your fault," Darius says sternly, steeling himself and fighting against the tears. "Stop feeling guilty about this."

"How is it not my fault?!" Yasmina wails. "Brooklynn lost her eye because of me! Directly!"

"She was saving you!" he shouts.

"Because I didn't have the guts to die!" she shouts back.

"Do you have a death wish?!"

"Rather that than watch you die!"

"Why is death your only solution to problems?!"

"It's either me dying, you dying, or Brooklynn losing her eye!" Yasmina snaps, her voice cracking at the end. "I'd always choose the first one, Darius! Always!"
"So everything's your fault because you didn't die?!" he sighs in frustration. "Stop blaming yourself! Listen to yourself—"

"No, Darius!" Yasmina shouts, refusing to hear him out. "It's—"

Darius sits forward and firmly claps his hand over her mouth. "No, Yaz, you listen to me! Listen to yourself! You'd rather die than let me die! You'd rather die then let Brooklynn lose an eye!"

The amputee's tears collect on his fingers as he talks. "Yaz, you are an amazing friend," he says softly. "You did the best you could. Stop harming yourself over this! If anything, you and Brooklynn's injuries, as well as mine, are the result of my inability to swim."

Yasmina licks his hand, forcing him to pull it back with a grunt of disgust. "Really, Darius?! Really?! I shouldn't be taking on the blame, but you can?!"

"I'm the leader, it's my responsibility to keep you guys safe!" he argues. "Now Brooklynn is injured and you lost your leg all because I couldn't freaking swim! Maybe I deserved to get stepped on by Rexy! Maybe I deserved to have my chest and leg crushed! Maybe because I failed to protect you guys!"

Yasmina stares at him in horror, slowly sitting up. Fresh tears start to flow. "That's… that's how you got hurt?"

"You didn't know?" Darius asks softly.

"I didn't know any of this!" she cries. "You guys haven't talked about it before."

"The Scorpius rex chased us after we cauterized your leg," Darius explains, staring numbly at his hands. "Brooklynn, Ben, and I were carrying you while Kenji carried Sammy. I knew… I knew we wouldn't make it… So I sent the others on to escape while I distracted the Scorpius rex… Rexy decided to investigate the new challenger and stepped on top of me… I don't know what happened after that… I know the rescue team found us at that point… beyond that…"

"Darius," Yasmina sobs quietly.

"I was fully ready to die for you guys right there," he says, looking up at her. "The only reason I hung on was because God showed me my daughter… I wanted to stay and live. But I would be more than willing to die for you guys again."

"But you won't let me," she whispers. "You can give your life for us but I can't."

"The problem I have is that you're wishing you would die!" the dino nerd argues.

"So are you!" the amputee shouts.

"No! I'm wishing that I had swam faster and didn't cause you and Brooke to get hurt!" he snaps. "I'm wishing that I had been a successful leader, not a corpse!"

"Maybe a corpse is my job!" Yasmina sobs. "I'm a terrible leader! I'm not good at supporting you guys emotionally! I'm not a medic! I'm not smart! What job do I have in the team?! How else can I serve you guys other than giving myself in battle?!"

"Yaz!" Darius protests.

"You're the leader!" she argues. "Kenji's the second in command! Brooklynn was our survival guide! Ben had a way with animals; Sammy, too! Sammy was our medic! I was the athlete! That was who I was! I was the one who went out in battle to save you! I was the sacrifice in case of danger!"

"No, you're not!" he shouts.

"WHAT WAS MY JOB THEN?!" she shouts in his face. "HUH?!"

Darius pulls back in shock.

"My job was to save you guys," Yasmina cries bitterly. "That's where my stubborn, reckless brain is put to good use… and I couldn't even do that for you… I couldn't die for you…"

"You're not superhuman, Yaz," Darius argues. "You can't protect everyone by killing yourself!"

"Neither can you!" she snaps.

"What is going on?" Darius's mother asks, opening the bedroom door. Her hair was astray and her eyes drooped tiredly.

"Just… arguing," Darius sighs.

"I figured that much," his mother nods. "What about?"

"Yaz is blaming herself for me and Brooklynn's injuries and she wishes she had died in the river," Darius immediately tattles.

"Hey!" the amputee protests. "He tells me not to blame myself then proceeds to say it's all his fault!"

"I am the leader! I am the protector!" he snaps. "And because I couldn't swim, you had to jump in. Therefore, it is my fault!"

"It's not your fault that you weren't a strong swimmer any more than it was Sammy's fault she couldn't swim!" she argues. "It's my fault I was too cowardly to live up to my reputation and die!"

"Can I put my two cents in?" Darius's mother asks. The two quiet down. "Both of you are being ridiculous. You can see it in the other, but you can't see it in yourself."

"But—" Yasmina starts.

"You two are not superhuman," Mrs. Bowman says firmly. "You are not invulnerable. You make mistakes. Trained, professional adults failed and were eaten. You guys can't control the situation, no matter how much you want to."

The two campers lower their gaze.

"You guys were facing off against predators," his mother continues. "They were dinosaurs. Bigger than you. Claws. Teeth. Tough, scaly skin. These creatures hunted daily. They fought violently against other predators and prey alike. What defense do you have against that? You guys were lucky to have gotten out with what you did. The fact that all six of you survived was a blessing, not a curse."

She places her hand gently on their shoulders.

"I just wish I had done things differently," the amputee sniffs.

"Me, too," the dino nerd mumbles.

"Even if you had, things might have ended up the same, or worse," Mrs. Bowman points out. "I think you guys are giving yourself too much credit in this situation. Sometimes you can't do anything different. Sometimes it's a matter of circumstances."

Yasmina starts to cry again. "I… I can't believe it… I can't accept it, and I don't know why…" she covers her face with her hands as she sobs.

Darius reaches forward to hug her, but struggles due to his cast. Mrs. Bowman comes around to the other side of the bed, and pulls Yasmina into a hug, bringing her closer to Darius. The two hold the sobbing amputee. "It's not your fault," Mrs. Bowman says, rubbing her back.

"Who's fault is it, then?" Yasmina cries.

"No ones," Mrs. Bowman says. "No one did it, it was you vs. nature."

The amputee can't accept it. "How… How… Brooklynn didn't deserve it… Darius didn't deserve it… they don't deserve the things they've gone through… Why did everything happen?"

"What are you talking about?" Darius asks.

"No one deserves to go through the things you guys did," his mother assures her. "What makes you think it's a matter of what you deserve?"

"I don't know," Yasmina cries, closing her eyes and sniffing. "I don't know… I don't know what's going on inside me… I don't know… I don't know…"

"Shh, shh," Mrs. Bowman says, brushing Yasmina's hair out of the way and holding her face in a motherly way.

"Why would it happen? Why would it happen? Why would it happen?" Yasmina sobs, unable to process more than one thought on loop.

"Yaz, what's going on?" Darius asks softly. "Why do you blame yourself so much? Why do you wish you had died?"

The amputee rests her head on Mrs. Bowman's shoulder, sobbing as she tries to collect her thoughts and explain them. "I… I can't… I don't…"

"Take your time," Darius's mother says, gently stroking her hair.

"I…" Yasmina sniffs. "I just… Everything has to happen for a reason, right? There's gotta be something behind everything that happens in the world. And everyone says what goes around comes around. You get what you deserve… So how does someone as wonderful as Darius and Brooklynn get these horrible things done to them?"

Darius takes her head in his, gently squeezing it.

"I just don't understand…" Yasmina sobs. "Are you two being punished for something someone else did? Something I did? Did I do something that put you guys in danger? Was it my fault?"

"Yasmina," Darius whispers.

"None of you guys deserve what you went through," she cries. "You guys couldn't have brought it upon yourself… Was it me?"

"What did you do that you thought would come back in the form of a curse on your friends?" Darius's mother asks.

"I don't know," Yasmina whispers. "I just… you guys deserve so much better… you all do…"

"And do you think you don't?" Mrs. Bowman asks.

Yasmina's silence was all they needed.

"Yasmina, you don't deserve the things you've gone through," Darius assures her quickly.

The amputee looks at him, not believing him. "No, I do," she says, slowly collapsing into sobs on the older woman's shoulder. "I'm not worthy of your love, I'm not worthy of anyone's love and I don't understand why you guys care so much about me…" her voice goes high and cracks with emotion before finally breaking and failing.

"Yaz, why would you say that?" Darius asks, his heart breaking as he listens to his friend break. "Why wouldn't you be worthy of love?"

"I don't know…" she sobs. "I don't know why I feel that way, I just do…"

Mrs. Bowman sighs. "Would this have something to do with your biological father?"

"Maybe," Yasmina sniffs, wiping away her tears. "I just… Sometimes… I think the only thing I'm good for is my body… in an athletic way. If I'm not running, who am I?"
"Why does your sport define you?" the older woman asks.

"That's how I discovered myself…" the amputee murmurs. "That's how I could help my friends on the island… And I couldn't even do that right… I would rather die than live in a world without my friends and family! If you guys were gone, there'd be nothing left for me!"

"But we're here, Yaz," Darius tells her.

"But you almost weren't," Yasmina cries. "And I… I could've saved you the time of fixing my wound if I had just died… if I was gone you guys wouldn't have to carry me and be slowed down… And what if I'm hurting you guys? I can be a jerk. I am a jerk to you guys! How can I be a jerk to you guys…"

"Yaz, you're not," he argues.

"I made my family move away from they're life," she sobs. "I caused problems between Leah and Brooklynn… You guys would be better off without me… better off without me… You guys would be better off without me…"

Darius and his mother give up arguing with her; she was emotionally shot and being irrational. Yasmina cries herself to sleep on Mrs. Bowman's shoulder. Brandon had been standing in the doorway for a few minutes, unsure how to help. When they realized Yasmina was asleep, he helped his mother move her to the bed next to Darius and tucked her under the covers.

Mrs. Bowman heads out of the room, most likely going to call Yasmina's mother and explain what her daughter had just sobbed about. Brandon looks at his brother and found sister to make sure they were okay before closing the door.

Darius snuggles underneath the covers and puts an arm around Yasmina. In her sleep, she stirred, turning over and snuggling up in Darius's embrace. Darius thought she looked a few years younger when sleeping, especially when curled up the way she was. It was hard for him to believe she was almost sixteen the way she was snuggling him.

"Lord, why did I have to be so slow in the river?" he asks. "Why couldn't I swim faster? Then she wouldn't have lost her leg… Brooklynn wouldn't have lost her eye… Maybe Yaz wouldn't be so suicidal then…"

With a heavy heart, Darius falls off to sleep, holding his friend protectively.

---

"Hey, Brook, did you see the new trend going around recently?" Milton asks.

Brooklynn sleepily lifts her gaze from her cereal. "Uhh… have I?"

Milton shows her his phone.

Brooklynn squints at the photo. "I don't get it…"

Milton swipes to another photo, then another. "Catch on?"

His younger sister frowns. "They're all wearing eye patches?"

Milton grins. "Yeah, you've started a new trend."

Darius looks up from his breakfast. "Hold up."

"... I did?" Brooklynn asks in confusion.

"Yep," Milton laughs. "Artists, TikTokers, Instagramers, Youtubers, the whole shebang are starting to don the eye patch. It's become your symbol ever since you posted that video explaining it two days ago, and they're supporting you through sporting it."

Brooklynn blinks several times, trying to process what he was saying. "Wait, what?"

"Lemme see," Brandon says, coming up behind Milton and taking the phone from him. "Ooh, it's a pretty cool trend."

"Hey, hey, give me the phone," Darius says, gesturing to it. He too flips through the pictures Milton had pulled up. "Hey, I found a meme," he says.

Brooklynn—who was still in a state of shock—looks at him. "A meme?"

"It's got a picture of Odin saying, 'I lost my eye in a battle with the Frost Giants,'" Darius reads. "Then Thor says, 'I lost my eye in battle with my sister.' Then they've got you, Brook, saying, 'Oh, please, I lost it for my sister.'"

Brooklynn chuckles slightly, still unable to comprehend it.

Darius recovers from laughing and finishes reading the meme. "And underneath you is Nick Fury saying, 'Dang, I lost my eye cause a cat scratched it.'"

The three boys wheeze over the Marvel meme. Brooklynn has finally processed the recent turn of events and is hit with panic. "People are supporting me… People are coming out in support of me over Leah! She's going to come after me when she comes back! People can't support me! Not when they're choosing me over her!"

"Brooklynn, you okay?" Darius asks, still laughing slightly.

She forces a smile. "Yeah, just… can't believe it."

While they saw her forced smile, it came off as shock and disbelief instead of panic. "You should totally rock the eye patch now," Brandon suggests. "It's in style. Your style."

"'The eye patch: a symbol of heroism, bravery, and courage,'" Darius reads. "It's commonly seen in superhero movies, but the real superhero would have to be Brooklynn, who jumped in, without super powers, not knowing if she would come out alive or not, to save her friend. She should be the true Marvel superheroine."

Brooklynn truly smiles despite her queasy stomach. "Woah… who knew I'd be called a superhero instead of Yaz."

"Come on, you guys, get ready for school," Brooklynn's mother says, sticking her head into the kitchen. "You guys slept over to keep each other alive, not keep each other from school."

"I don't see the difference," Darius remarks, making his friends laugh.

Brooklynn goes to close the door to get dressed when Milton sticks his foot in, stopping the door. "Get dressed in something bada**," he says.

"Language!" Darius calls from the bathroom.

"You, too?!" Milton exclaims. "Just get dressed in something cool, K?"

"Fine," Brooklynn sighs. As she gets dressed and ready, she internally panics about her newfound fame. "What is Leah going to think about this? I didn't openly bash her and I tried to cut out as much as I could without seeming suspicious to Yaz and Sammy! I didn't ask to have the eye patch become famous! She can't hold this against me, right? This isn't a reason to reveal everything, right? Right?!"

Halfway through her mental rant, she realized she was fully dressed and sitting down to do her makeup. "... Wow, muscle memory, I guess," she mumbles, looking down at her outfit. Black, moderately ripped jeans and a white shirt, with her signature pink jacket over it. The jacket had been torn and ripped on the island, but it was washed. "I can't wear this," she mumbles. "No matter how heroic it looks, it's tacky to go to school with rips and slight blood stains in your jacket."

Going with Milton's advice, she puts on a black jacket instead. Wasn't leather, but it still looked cool. She then sat down to do her makeup. After a minute long, internal debate of whether or not to leave the scar showing, she decided to cover it up, still feeling insecure about it. She then proceeded to do the rest of her face. She put on black eyeliner and mascara on her right eye, something she really never did. Brooklynn always tried to pull off the bubbly, inquisitive Youtuber appearance. Black eyeliner was too bold for her style. But her brother had said to look cool…

Pronouncing herself finished—decent, or better yet, having put in more of an effort than usual—she opens her door and takes up her backpack. "Where's the famous eyepatch?" she asks sarcastically.

Brandon tosses her one. "This isn't my eyepatch," the Youtuber frowns.

"Well, technically 'your' eyepatch is actually Ben's," Darius points out.

"That's from my Nick Fury Halloween costume," Brandon explains. "Figured it would look cooler than a eyepatch with a kid pirate design on it."

"Thanks," Brooklynn smiles, putting on the eyepatch. "So?"

"You look super cool," Darius nods with a grin.

"Like you could be a rapper," Milton crosses his arms.

"Your rapper name could be Young B," Brandon suggests. "Wait, there's already a rapper named that… Whatever, that's my new nickname for you. Young B and D-man!" he points to Darius.

"Sounds like a really cool rapper duo," Milton laughs.

Brooklynn giggles as the four head out to school… but her fear still lingered in the back of her mind.

After school, Kenji came over to hang out—make sure she didn't kill herself, really. Ben had been staying with Yasmina ever since Tuesday morning. As soon as school ended, he and Ghaleb stuck with her like remoras. Since her mental breakdown at Darius's house where she admitted that she thought the world would be better off without her, the families had come together to keep guard over her. The amputee was getting frustrated with the constant attention, but like with Brooklynn, they weren't trusting her alone until she was better.

Brooklynn had gotten used to the constant guard and almost no alone time. She needed it to stay sane and not get lost in her suicidal thoughts. Darius had guards, too, though they were more subtle. While Darius hadn't shown any signs of being suicidal, his self blame worried his mother. Sammy and Kenji had been rotating between Brooklynn and Darius since then, keeping watch over them. Milton tried to be there for his sister whenever he could, and Brandon took the secret shift when Sammy and Kenji needed a break.

"Good grief, this eye patch fad is blowing up," Kenji chuckles, leaning on the kitchen island and scrolling through his phone.

She forces a smile. "Yeah… I guess I'll have to make my eyepatch more fashionable, since it's my staple accessory now…"

"Yeah, you could have several for different occasions," he grins. "I can see a couple of them. Baddie, plain black one, flowery pink one, perhaps a silver, elegant one for formal occasions."

"Yeah…" Brooklynn mumbles, her bleached hair falling in her face. "Maybe I should redye my hair and get my roots done, too."

"What color would you go for?" he asks, grinning.

"Mmm, I don't know," she sighs. "I'm not making videos like I used to, so there's no theme to go with…"

"Would you go for the same pink you had on the island?" the boy asks. "Or maybe a hot pink? I could see you rocking that with a black eye patch."

"Yeah, hot pink sounds cool…" Brooklynn nods. She sighs. "I'm not used to this. All my fame was due to Leah's influence. Now I'm well known for surviving the island and saving Yaz…"

Kenji smiles. "I'm glad to see you healing from Leah's abuse. You deserve better treatment than the manipulative crap she gave you."

"If he ever found out my secret, he'd think differently," the voice immediately jumps.

Becoming defensive, Brooklynn frowns. "She wasn't all that bad," she snaps, moving around him and sitting on the couch.

Kenji's face scrunches up in confusion, shocked by her sudden change of behavior. "W-what?" He walks over to the back of the couch and leans over her. Brooklynn ignores him. "What's wrong?"

Brooklynn passive aggressively shrugs. "Just saying, she was nice for most of the time I knew her. We don't need to diss her all the time."

Kenji stares down at her in confusion. "Well… you've dissed her before."

"Maybe I don't want to hear anything negative anymore, okay?!" Brooklynn snaps, looking up at him angrily.

"Jeez," he whispers under his breath. "Is something bothering you?"

"I'm fine," she huffs, crossing her arms and staring at the wall.

"You don't sound fine," Kenji says with concern, carefully sitting next to her on the couch. "Is something wrong?"

"No," Brooklynn shrugs, although her voice didn't match her answer.

"Come on, you're acting weird," he says, moving closer.

She moves a couple inches away from him. "Everything's fine."

He eyes her with great concern, very worried about her strange behavior. Kenji sighs. "Well… you know you can come to me with everything and anything, right?"

"Mmhmm," Brooklynn huffs, staring at her nails.

"Seriously, anything," he says, tilting forward slightly to look in her eyes. "It doesn't matter what."

"I know!" she snaps harshly.

Kenji moves away to sit on the other side of the couch, watching her with worry. The two sit there in uncomfortable silence. The boy had hoped that perhaps sitting there long enough would break her resolve to shut off, but his hopes were void.

Milton came into the room and Brooklynn became happy again, like she had flipped a switch. Seeing that someone else was there, Kenji leaves the room and heads into the bathroom. He texts Sammy, asking if it would be a good time to call. His phone ringing was the answer. "Hey, what's wrong? Somethang's always wrong when someone asks if they can call."

"It has to do with Brooklynn," he says softly.

"Oh, gawd, that's even worse!" Sammy exclaims.

Kenji winces, wishing he could assure her, but Brooklynn had worried him… "She's… acting funny."

"Funny how?"

"Funny, like she's struggling with something but refuses to tell me."

"What happened?"

The boy sighs and sits down on the floor. "We were talking about what color she'd dye her hair and how her eye patch has become her staple accessory, and I told her I was happy she was recovering from the abuse she received from Leah. She got all defensive and said that Leah wasn't as bad as we were making her out to be."

"That's really weird…" Sammy murmurs.

"Yeah, and when I asked her if something was wrong, she shut it down," he continues. "Harshly. She seemed mad and frustrated, but I don't know what I did. I told her she could come to me with anything and she snapped."

"I wonder if there's somethin' going on between her and Leah…" Sammy says. "Somethin' she ain't tellin' us…"

"I hope not…" Kenji mutters. "Leah's grounded, right?"

"Yeah."

"So she wouldn't be able to hurt Brooklynn, right?"

"Well, she still has ties, I would imagine. Probably in school. She's gotta far reach… Maybe Brooklynn is worried that Leah will turn Youtube against her with her friends."

"That might explain why she didn't elaborate very far on the Leah issue in her video," Kenji nods.

"And why she cut out some of what me and Yaz said about Leah," Sammy sighs. "I bet she's worried Leah will attack her when she's ungrounded and is trying to appease her."

"That sounds about right," the boy sighs. "Well, I tried talking to her. Maybe you'd have better luck talking to her about it. I can't try again, at least, not today… I just don't want to leave her alone and let her get pushed to the edge like on the island…"

"I wouldn't try again just yet," the cowgirl advises. "If she seemed stressed, pushing her further might make her explode. Just don't leave her alone, and try to keep an eye on her if she's on a device, K?"

"Yeah, sounds like a good plan," Kenji nods. "Thanks, Sam."

"¿Qué agradeces? She's like a younger sister," Sammy says. "I'd want you to tell me this stuff."

"Uhh, English translation?" Kenji chuckles.

"Op, sorry," Sammy giggles. "Roughly translated, 'What are you thanking me for?'"

"Oh, okay," Kenji laughs. "Gracias."

"No hay problema," Sammy giggles, ending the call.

---

"Hello, Darius," the woman smiles. "I'm Dr. Vetrovs, your therapist."

Darius uncomfortably sits in the chair in front of her. "Sounds… formal?"

Dr. Vetrovs laughs. "If you want to be informal, you can call me by my first name, Anita."

"Miss Anita?" Darius asks tentatively.

"If that works for you, I'm fine with you calling me that," she smiles. "Are you comfortable?"

"This chair doesn't exactly work well with my cast," Darius says nervously.

"Would this help?" Dr. Vetrovs asks, bringing an ottoman underneath his left leg.

"Yeah," he nods, feeling more comfortable. "So… what goes on in therapy?"

"Well," the woman says, resting her right leg on her left knee. "The first therapy session usually starts off with me and my patient getting to know each other. I want my patients to know they can trust me and feel free to talk to me."

"So you want me to know that you can be my friend?" Darius rephrases.

"I want you to know you can trust me," she says. "After our therapy session, you can ask yourself if you would want to see me again. I know therapy can be scary, especially if you haven't been to a session before. Have you had therapy before?"

"No," Darius shakes his head. "Well, I talked to someone in the hospital, but there wasn't really a bond. It didn't really work. They just wanted me to talk about my feelings and problems, but I didn't feel comfortable with it."

"You don't feel comfortable sharing with people you don't know?" she says, not really asking, more like making a statement.

"I can barely open up to the people I do trust," Darius chuckles.

"Do you not want them to know or do you have a hard time opening up in general?" Dr. Vetrovs asks.

"Uhh… I'm not sure…" Darius bites his lip. "I… I think a lot of the time… I just don't want to feel weak around them… Especially my friends; I am the leader… or was… maybe I still am…"

"Do you think you'd be able to open up to me?" she asks, twirling her pencil aimlessly.

"Maybe…" Darius crosses his arms. "If I didn't feel the need to be strong in front of you, I guess I could open up."

Dr. Vetrovs nods. "Not every patient will benefit from my style of therapy. I might not be the therapist for you. That's what this first therapy session is really about. Seeing if I can help you."

Darius nods. "I could definitely use some help here…"

"Would you like to discuss what you want to accomplish through therapy?" she asks. "What issues you want to work through and what trauma you want to get over? Or do you want to get to know each other and small talk first?"

"Small talk, I think," Darius smiles shyly, a little uncomfortable with the idea of opening up to someone who was a stranger.

"Alright, how old are you?" Dr. Vetrovs asks, taking a sip of water. "Do you want something to drink?"

"Yeah, that'd be nice," Darius nods. "Twelve. I'll turn thirteen in September. How old are you?"

"Thirty seven," she chuckles.

"How long have you been a therapist?" he asks, gratefully taking the cup of ice cold water.

The blonde woman pauses for a second. "Twelve years. I'm not the best at math, sorry."

Darius laughs. "So you've been in therapy as long as I've been alive."

"You make me sound old," she chuckles. "What are your interests?"

"Dinosaurs," Darius immediately answers, before pausing. "Well, they used to be…"

"Did Jurassic World ruin your interest in them?" she asks.

"I don't know," he murmurs. "I still know all the facts… and my Dad and I bonded over them… but I'm not sure if I still like them after that experience."

"Understandable," Dr. Vetrovs nods.

"Have you ever dealt with anyone with my problems?" he asks.

"Depends," she shrugs. "What would your struggles be?"

"You want the top five," Darius purses his lips, trying to think.

She chuckles. "PTSD? Dealt with that before. I do have a couple patients who were at the park for the incident. Do you have any other issues you would want to get through?"

"Probably grief…" he says quietly. "My Dad… I guess I want to get over the flashbacks and bad memories of the island, too…"

Dr. Vetrovs nods.

"Has my Mom told you anything?" Darius asks.

The therapist looks at the ceiling, scrunching up her mouth in thought. "She said that you might struggle with the guilt of feeling like you failed your friends."

"'Feeling like' makes it sound like it's a hairbrained idea," Darius mutters.

"We can work through that in a later session if you want to," she says. "Do you have a history of self harm or suicidal ideations?"

"Nope," he shakes his head. "I don't think I've ever thought of suicide. Well, I've thought about it, but it was a fleeting thought. More of a casual what if that went out as quickly as it came. I did contemplate it when it got really hard on the island and we thought no help was coming, but I haven't considered it since."

She nods, and scribbles something in her notebook. "Do you have a history of mental illnesses in your family?"

"Uhh, yeah," Darius chuckles. "My Dad was a vet… I don't know if he had PTSD or not… he was in the Intervention in Haiti in 1994… I think he might have had flashbacks to his time there… I think my Mom has depression, and I think my brother has harmed himself after he thought I was dead… I'm not entirely sure. They haven't really talked about their struggles. The only reason I know Brandon hurt himself was because he admitted it to my friend who was struggling with self harm."

Dr. Vetrovs nods. "Who's your friend?"

"Brooklynn," Darius says. "Brooklynn Monell."

"I have an appointment with her tomorrow in the afternoon," the woman nods, writing down something.

Darius bursts out into laughter. "You're going to take both of us on? Good luck."

The therapist tilts her head. 'What? You don't think I can handle all six of you?"

"All six of us?" Darius asks, laughing incredulously. "I think it's safe to say you might be biting off more than you can chew."

"Well, you guys are super close," she says. "A lot of your problems and trauma are intertwined, and one might tell me more about a particular event then another. Might actually be easier to help you if I help the others, too."

Darius nods. "Actually, that makes sense."

"So, do you have any hobbies?" Dr. Vetrovs asks, switching to small talk to get him more comfortable and friendly.

"I like to play video games," he says, then sputters. "Like a typical twelve year old boy."

"Fortnite?" she chuckles.

"Eh, sometimes," he shrugs. "I liked the older video games like Legend of Zelda and the old Pacman. My Dad taught me how to play those…"

"Do you have a favorite movie?" she asks.

Darius grins, relaxing a bit. "Hard to pick just one. I like the Marvel movies."

"That's a really good series," Dr. Vetrovs grins. "Who's your favorite character?"

"Either Captain America or Spiderman," he chuckles. "You?"

"Hmm," she thinks. "That's pretty difficult. There's a lot of great characters. Captain America is a good one. Spiderman, too. They seem to be some of the nicest characters."

"Yeah," Darius nods.

"I've been told that I look like Yelena from Black Widow," Dr. Vetrovs chuckles.

"I can sort of see it," Darius nods.

The two continue to talk until the end of the therapy session. Dr. Vetrovs walks him out to the street, where Roxie was picking him up. "Your Mother said you guys would be dining in at the restaurant with the Gutierrez's. Since I'm working tonight, she asked me to pick you up."

"Thanks," Darius smiles. "Thank you for the therapy, Miss Anita."

"I hope to see you again," the therapist smiles, waving as she heads back into the building.

"Oh, are you seeing any of the others besides Brooklynn?" Darius asks.

Dr. Vetrovs pauses. "I think I'll be seeing Yasmina Fadoula… next Tuesday?"

"That I can definitely say good luck to," Darius laughs. Roxie nods in agreement.

"Okay," Dr. Vetrovs chuckles, not fully getting what they meant.

As the two drive to the restaurant, Roxie brings up the therapy session. "Well, how did it go?"

"I think it went pretty well," he shrugs from the back seat. "It was more getting to know her and her getting to know me than anything else. She's pretty nice."

"Do you think she'd be able to help you?" Roxie asks, looking at him in her rear view mirror.

"Yeah," Darius shrugs again. "I guess… Hopefully she can help me through my real problems…"

"What? So you have fake problems?" the Brit asks in confusion.

Darius laughs. "No, just people thinking I have a problem where I don't."

"What would that be?" Roxie asks.

He sighs. "My Mom and friends think I'm blaming myself unnecessarily."

The camp counselor chuckles. "What's this all about?"

Darius launches into an explanation of what happened in the river. "I just… just wish I had made a different decision," he sighs. "And I wish people would stop telling me that it wasn't my fault. I was the leader, ultimately it was my call what we did… and I chose to go through the river… look what good that did us. I failed them as their leader."

Roxie was silent from the front seat.

"Do you think I'm being irrational, too?" Darius grumbles.

"I understand both points of view," she shrugs. "I don't think you should beat yourself up over your decisions, but it would be hypocritical of me to tell you not to blame yourself."

"How?" Darius asks quietly.

"Well," she sighs. "Everyone says they forgive me for making the decisions that I did, but part of me wonders if you should."

"What do you mean?" Darius asks.

"I was the head counselor at camp," she explains. "It's tough being a leader, even if you're a natural at it."

"Yeah," Darius nods, chuckling in agreement.

"Trying to keep everyone working together in peace and smoothing over arguments is very difficult," she says. "Especially you and the other campers."

"Oh, tell me about it," he laughs. "You got us for three or four days, I had them for like two months."

Roxie laughs. "Somebody's always at somebody else's throat."

Darius clears his throat. "Yaz and Kenji."

"And someone is always breaking the rules," the counselor says, waggling her finger at Darius. "You and Kenji."

"And Brooklynn," the boy grins. "And Yaz… Yaz was always trying to sacrifice herself for the group."

"Oh, gosh," she laughs.

"Seriously, all. The. Time," Darius claps his hands for emphasis.

"Glad I didn't have to deal with that," Roxie laughs. "The problem she gave the most was being standoffish."

"Still a problem," he laughs.

"Decision making is the worst aspect, though," the Brit says, stopping at the light. "People tend to follow someone who knows what they're doing, which means you have to act like you know what you're doing. Even if you have no clue."

"Exactly!" he exclaims. "And you don't know if you're making the right choice or not, you just have to pick and go with it and hope God is leading you in the right direction."

"The worst feeling is when you've made the wrong decision and something bad happens," Roxie nods. "In our cases, it wasn't a matter of 'Oh, this arts and crafts project sucks.' It's a matter of, 'Oh, no, we could lose a life if things go south even further.'"

Darius nods, emotions welling up as he listens.

"Others just don't understand, do they?" Roxie asks, looking at him through the rear view mirror. "They tell you that you need to let the past go. Forgive yourself. That you did your best. But how can you let it go when your best almost got someone you care about killed?"

A tear slides down Darius's cheek. "Yeah…" he murmurs.

"I was the one who decided to leave you guys," Roxie says solemnly. "I was the one that made that decision. I was the reason you six were stuck on Isla Nublar. If anything, it was my fault you got hurt… that Yaz lost her leg… that Brooklynn lost her eye… that Sammy's paralyzed… If I hadn't made the decision to leave you kids, you guys wouldn't have even had to deal with the dinosaurs. We would've been there to bring you to safety."

"Well…" Darius starts. "We still would've dealt with dinosaurs. I don't think we could've avoided that."

"Yeah, but you kids wouldn't be stuck on the island," Roxie argues.

"I mean, who knows?" he shrugs. "You and Dave might have gotten stuck on the island with us. Things might have been the same."

"I still wish I made a different decision," she sighs. "I could've brought you to the park with Dave and I while we talked to Mrs. Dearing. I could've left Dave behind and talked to her myself. I could've just waited until she was less busy."

"You couldn't really have waited," Darius chuckles. "With the amount of trouble we were getting into, we kinda forced your hand there."

"I still could've made a better decision instead of leaving you," Roxie argues.

"Yeah, but it's not like you were trying to hurt us," he sighs. "It might have been a stupid decision, but hey, maybe we had left you sleep deprived."

"You still forgive me even after I failed you?" the Brit asks.

"I don't think you really failed us," the boy says. "You did your best and it turned out to be a bad decision. I don't think it was a failure, just a mess up."

"A mess up that almost got you and the others killed multiple times," she sighs. "Gave you PTSD and permanent injuries… I can't forgive myself. I wouldn't ever trust myself with kids again. Not with my decision making."

"I don't think that's fair," Darius argues. "You did the best you could. It didn't turn out well, but we all make mistakes. You're still a great camp leader and I would still trust you to take care of me."

"I had other choices and I didn't choose them," Roxie retorts.

"Hindsight is twenty, twenty," he shrugs. "You make the best decision you could at the moment. I don't blame you for the problems we went through."

"But you blame yourself?" she says.

Her words felt like a punch to the gut, but not in a bad way. "I…" he starts.

"I had other options," Roxie says. "I could've left Dave with you guys, or we could have brought you along. What were your options at the river?"

Darius looks at his hands. "We could've gone around the river…"

"And possibly missed us?" Roxie suggests with a shrug. "Look, you're all young with almost no experience surviving or fighting. The fact that you six made it is incredible."

He nods slowly.

"You were probably sleep deprived and stressed," she continues. "Hungry, tired, dehydrated, injured, scared. All those factors can lead up to irrational decisions. And from what you've described, I highly doubt it was that. Going around the river would've taken too much time, and there was no other way to get to us. You had to cross."

"I mean… we didn't have to," Darius weakly argues.

"If you went around the river, we might not have found you," she says. "The river was huge. We might have completely passed by you and called you guys missing. We met up with you kids because Rexy was threatened by the strange hybrid—which was chasing you."

Darius nods.

"I know it's hard to not blame yourself," she says, stopping at the light and turning around to face him. "It's very hard when you made a decision that led to the injury or the endangerment of someone you care about, or someone in your care. Truly, I do. But it does you no good. It's pointless, and you're giving yourself too much credit. You were in an extremely perilous situation; any decision you would've made could end badly. Sometimes it has nothing to do with what you decide to do. I think you made the best decision, honestly, considering that your other option was going around the river."

He looks up at her with tears in his eyes. "You think so?"

She nods. "Darius," she says quietly. "You were an amazing leader. If everything the others have said about you is true, you were a contributing factor in the survival of all of you. But you're not perfect, and you can't control the situation. If you could, wouldn't you have decided not to be on the island all together?"

He chuckles slightly.

"Do you forgive yourself, Darius?" she asks quietly.

"I don't know," he says. "Part of me still blames myself… but the other part knows it wasn't my fault. I guess… I guess the guilt is just hard to let go of."

"It'll take time," she nods. "I'm still working on it. It might take months, maybe even years to get to the point where you don't get your knickers in a twist thinking about it. But you need to take those steps first."

Darius nods as she pulls into the parking lot. She helps him out and he gives her a tearful hug. "Thanks, Roxie. You really are a great counselor."

The counselor smiles, hugging him back. "You're very welcome, Darius."

---

"Hello, Brooklynn, how are you today?" Dr. Vetrovs asks.

"Good," Brooklynn says, a fleeting smile appearing on her face, then disappearing. Her arms were crossed vulnerably and she was leaning against the left arm of the chair.

"I'm Dr. Vetrovs, but you can call me Miss Anita, if you want," the therapist smiles. "That's what Darius thought was better."

Brooklynn chuckles.

"Have you ever had therapy before?" the woman asks.

"Some, in the hospital," the Youtuber nods. "Didn't do much."

The therapist nods. "They just wanted to give you a quick fix but didn't put in a lot of effort and time?"

"Not that we had much time between all the moving and stuff," Brooklynn mutters.

"Yeah, therapy takes longer than that," Dr. Vetrovs says. "It takes a bond between the therapist and their patient, which you can't have if you don't try to make one. My style of therapy might help Darius, but it might not help you. Or vice versa. This first therapy session will be about getting to know each other. What problems you might want to work through. Any questions that you have. Whether or not you would want to come to me again. That sort of thing."

Brooklynn nods, her gaze flitting around to the wall decorations.

"Are you comfortable?" the therapist asks. "I know therapy can seem scary."

"Yeah, I'm with Yaz on this one," Brooklynn chuckles. "The idea of… The…"

"The idea of opening up to someone you hardly know is intimidating?" she suggests.

"I was thinking of my secrets being known by anyone other than me, but that works, too," Brooklynn thinks, glad the therapist gave her something else to say. "Yeah, that…"

"Well, that's what we'll do today," the woman smiles. "Get to know each other and see if we can work together to help you. I want to be your friend and I want you to be able to trust me."

The girl nods. "Are you taking in the others? I know Darius went to you yesterday."

"Yep," Dr. Vetrovs nods. "We'll see if we can't help you guys out."

Brooklynn smirks. "Did Darius say anything about the rest of us?"

"He thought it was funny that I would take you and him on together," the therapist says.

"Haha, the one you have to worry about is Yaz," Brooklynn grins mischievously.

"So everyone keeps saying," the woman chuckles. "I'll get to meet her Tuesday."

"Good luck," Brooklynn chuckles. "She won't open up to us sometimes. She's extremely stubborn. If she decides she doesn't want to be friends with you, well, the only way to change her mind is to get stuck on Isla Nublar with her."

"Welp, I don't think we'll do that, so let's just hope she's open minded," Dr. Vetrovs laughs.

"One can hope," the Youtuber chuckles.

"Do you have a history of self harm or suicidal ideations?" the woman asks.

"Mmm, yeah…" Brooklynn chuckles sheepishly. "I attempted suicide on the island… And I've cut myself sometimes… Haven't recently, but only because my friends have kept a close eye on me."

The therapist nods. "How's your home life? Does your family help you with these struggles?"

"They do…" Brooklynn sighs. "But… they don't truly understand sometimes what's going on. My friends were there 24/7 on the island… they know me better… have a better understanding of what goes on in my mind."

"Are your parents distant?" Dr. Vetrovs asks in concern.

"They were," Brooklynn re-crosses her arms. "They're trying to be there more, now… My brother, too. He used to be… a bit of a bully. He's gotten better… Well, he doesn't bully me, but he bullies my friends."

"He bullies your friends?" the woman raises an eyebrow in concern.

"I think he feels bad about being mean to me, so he's trying to make up for it by being 'over protective,'" the girl tschs. "He gets mad if any of the boys are around me. Strangely, he's fine with Brandon… I don't know if they worked out some 'brother' agreement between them."

Dr. Vetrovs nods and scribbles in her notebook.

"Do you use a new notebook for each patient?" Brooklynn asks.

"Try to," the therapist nods. "If they stay long enough, it will fill up. If they don't, I tear out the pages and start over with someone new."

"You might need two for me," Brooklynn mumbles, sliding down a bit in her seat.

"What do you wish to accomplish through our therapy?" the woman asks.

"Umm…" the girl bites her lip. "She can't know… she can't know… She'd have to tell my parents… She might even tell my friends… This secret can't get out… The shame is hard to handle now…"

"I guess…" she stutters. "I guess I want to get out of depression and suicidal thoughts. And get through PTSD from the island."

"All right, that's something we can work through," Dr. Vetrovs nods.

"Have you had anyone else with my symptoms?" Brooklynn asks nervously.

"I've had many, many, many patients with depression and suicidal urges," the therapist sighs. "And I've taken in a couple patients who are struggling with PTSD from the park incident. None stayed as long as you on the island, other than Darius. But yes, I've been helping some of them through their pain."

Brooklynn nods. "She can't know. She can't know! Can she read my mind? Can she see how stressed I am?! Does she know what I've done?!"

Forcing herself to hide her guilt, shame, and anxiety, the girl smiles. "I heard from Darius that you guys talked a lot about Marvel."

"I like a variety of things, so I try to connect with my patients in any way I can," Dr. Vetrovs smiles. "What are your interests?"

"I like making videos about subjects that interest me," Brooklynn shrugs. "Particularly ones that sparked fear in me… in an attempt to brave my fear."

"That's a pretty cool idea," the therapist nods.

Brooklynn launches into an explanation of her videos and Youtube channel while Dr. Vetrovs listens. By the end of the session, she was feeling much more open and comfortable with the therapist. The woman was easy to talk to and laidback. Brooklynn didn't mind the idea of going back to her.

In the back of her head, though, the voices whispered the whole time. "She can't know… She can't know… She can't know…"

---

"Oh, there you are," Rio says softly, jumping slightly.

Yasmina looks up from her sketchbook. "Don't tell anyone I'm here."

"Why are you hidin'?" the younger girl asks, looking around the loft of the barn that the amputee had holed herself up in.

"Ben and my brother have been smothering me for the past three days," Yasmina sighs. "I need a break from them."

"Oh," Rio nods. She sits down on the haystack next to the amputee, uncomfortably looking around the barn. Yasmina went back to her drawing, immersing herself in her art.

The twelve year old leans over to study the drawing. She couldn't make out what it was; it appeared to be black, ambiguous shapes. It seemed Yasmina was letting out whatever emotions she had pent up through her art. "Guess the art is as clear as her mental state," Rio thinks sadly.

"Um… you're very good at drawin'," the girl shyly compliments.

Yasmina looks at her sketchbook. "... Thanks?" she frowns. The two girls sit in silence before the amputee breaks it. "So… Do you draw?"

"I play the violin…" Rio says softly.

"Do you have a favorite violinist?" the older girl asks.

"A couple," the younger girl nods. "Frank Peter Zimmermann… David Garrett… Taylor Davis… Lindsey Stirling."

"I've heard of the last two," Yasmina nods.

The girls fall into silence again.

"Why won't Ben and Ghaleb leave you alone?" Rio asks quietly.

"They're afraid I'll kill myself," the amputee mumbles.

"Why would you do that?"

"... My friends and family would be better off without me…"

"Why?"

"It's my fault my family had to be uprooted… It's my fault that my friends are injured… and everyone likes to tell me that I would've died, but… wouldn't that be better? Then they wouldn't have to deal with me and all my problems…"

Yasmina looks up to see silent tears rolling down the younger girls face. "What's wrong?"

"My family always tells me that…" Rio says softly.

"You're suicidal?" the amputee asks.

"No, but they tell me not to blame myself for Sammy's injuries…" the twelve year old says, drawing her knees up to her chest and sniffles. "The age range for the camp was twelve to sixteen… I could've gone… I should've gone… I should've gone…"

"Why?" Yasmina asks.

"I should've taken Sammy's place as the spy," Rio sniffs. "I should've gone… Sammy doesn't deserve that kind of fate! She should've lived a happy life free of injuries and trauma…"

"What about you?" the older girl asks.

"Who would care?" she shrugs sadly. "I know my family would be very sad if I died… but Sammy has so many friends… She's so nice and kind and friendly; the world could really use her. The world doesn't need me with severe social anxiety and shyness… My family are the only people who would miss me…"

Yasmina smiles sadly, understanding all that. "It's okay… Is your family not even enough to keep you here?"

"They are…" Rio sighs. "But… between me and Sammy… Sammy's got a better future… and between the two of us, who do you think they'd miss more? Sammy's so much more friendly and kind than me… Eventually, they'd get over me… Sammy, they'd probably mourn for a while…"

"No," the amputee shakes her head. "I don't think Sammy's they're favorite. I think they'd continually mourn you and wish you hadn't gone to the island."

"Things would've been better off if I had gone…" Rio wipes her nose on her short sleeve. "They could still have Sammy exactly as she was and she wouldn't be injured…"

"You couldn't have known what was going to happen," Yasmina argues.

"But I should've…" Rio murmurs.

"No, you can't know the future," the amputee argues. "You couldn't have known that the park was going to collapse. You couldn't have known that Sammy was going to sneak off. It was probably more of Sammy's fault for thinking she had to go off and save her family… I speak from experience here when I say that taking family matters into your own hands can often leave them with a bigger mess. And hey, if you got stuck on the island with us, things would've been different. We all might be fine, or we all might be dead… you have no idea how changing a decision in the past might affect the future…"

"Then why are you blaming yourself?" Rio asks.

The words hit hard. "Well, that's different," Yasmina argues.

"How?"

"I was sacrificing myself for Darius, then turned around to try to live… it caused a lot more trouble…"

"But you couldn't have known that would happen. You couldn't have known that you wouldn't have made it."

"How could I have made it?! I should've just let my life end, then Darius and Brooklynn wouldn't be hurt…"

"They'd be hurt, just emotionally," Rio says. "You'd just be replacing their pain with something else. If you could choose between losing your limbs and a friend, which would you choose?"

"Losing my limbs, everyday," Yasmina says quickly.

"What makes you think they wouldn't pick the same choice?" the younger girl prompts softly. The amputee looks down, actually listening to her words. "You were putting your life on the line for Darius, right?"

Yasmina nods.

"When did you turn around to swim back?" Rio asks.

"When the others pulled him up onto land," she mumbles.

"So… he was saved when you tried to live," the younger girl murmurs. "At that point, the only one in danger was you… Your mission was complete. Darius was safe. Why wouldn't you try to live?"

"I guess that's true…" Yasmina chews on her lip hesitantly.

"So, if Darius was safe when you tried to live, you weren't not sacrificin' yourself for him," Rio says. "You had already accomplished that. He was safe, so there was no need to die for him."

Yasmina slowly turns her head away, tears running down her face. It was hard to accept that she didn't do anything wrong… "But because I couldn't make it, Brooklynn lost her eye… Darius had to sacrifice himself to the Scorpius rex because they had to carry me and I was slowing them down…"

"Wasn't Sammy injured?" Rio asks. "And Kenji's leg was injured? I think if you had been completely fine, Darius still would've had to sacrifice himself for you guys. The only difference is you'd be competing with him to do it."

"I slowed them down more," the amputee mutters.

"But Kenji and Sammy still wouldn't have made it," the twelve year old argues. "You guys would be as fast as your weakest member. If you weren't injured, they'd be the slowest members. They'd be the ones blaming themselves for Darius's injuries."

"It wouldn't have been their fault," Yasmina grumbles.

"Then why is it your fault?" Rio prompts sternly.

The older girl groans, looking away again. It was beginning to get hard to argue with logic…

"And if the roles were reversed, would you want Brooklynn to die?" the Texan asks. "If she had been the one putting her life on the line for Darius, then pulled under by the Spinosaurus, would you have jumped in? Would you have lost your eye for her? Or would you have let her sacrifice herself?"

"I'd save her, she's not sacrificing herself on my watch," Yasmina says quickly.

"Then why can't she do the same for you?" Rio asks softly.

"She deserves so much better than me," the amputee tries to argue. "Between me and Brooklynn, the group could do without me…"

"Would she think that?" the younger girl asks. "I don't think she cares too much about her family. You guys seem to be the only people keepin' her here. You at least got your family… For Brooklynn, you are her family…"

Yasmina looks down at her hands solemnly, tears slowly falling.

"If you could go back in time and not go to Camp Cretaceous, would you?" Rio asks.

Yasmina hesitates. "Well… I… If I didn't go, I wouldn't meet the others…"

"So… there are some good things about the island?"

"... Yeah…"

"Well… we can't go back in time and change our decisions. But your automatic response wasn't no. So there's parts of the situation that you wouldn't change. Maybe… instead of focusing on what you could've done… you focus on what was good about the experience?"

Yasmina glances up at her.

"We can't change the past," Rio sighs. "It does us no good to stress over what we could'a done and what we should'a done. We can't change it… The past is the past. What's done is done. There's nothing we can do. Stressing over it and sayin' 'I should've done this,' doesn't do us any good. It just leaves ya stressed and anxious and depressed. You didn't die on the island; none of y'all did. So why are ya wishing that you did?"

"I guess…" Yasmina sighs. "... I guess I just wish I could give my life so that my friends can be whole."

"But you can't, and they would want to be broken so that you could be alive," the twelve year old says, smiling slightly as she realizes she is getting through. "They feel the same way you do. Given the choice, I'm sure they'd give their lives or limbs for you. But no one can go back and change the past. It's not helpin' you or anyone else to wish you could've done something different. You lived… Take it as a blessin' and not a mistake."

"You really think me living was a blessing and not a mistake?" Yasmina asks.

Rio takes a second to formulate her thought. "If I can't think that I should've gone to Isla Nublar in place of Sammy, you can't think that you should've died."

"Fair enough," Yasmina says quietly, wiping away her tears. She sighs shakily. Rio had finally broken through her self hating mindset. It finally connected in the amputee's brain that she was being irrational and stubborn. "I guess… I guess everyone's been right… I'm pretty stubborn."

Rio giggles. "Yeah, and guilt and grief don't make it any easier to be rational."

Yasmina gets up and sits down on the hay bale next to Rio, wrapping an arm around her. "Don't worry, you'd be dearly missed if you were the one who went to Isla Nublar. I wouldn't have minded if you were the one in place of Sammy. Heck, I'd probably end up being the mom friend instead of Sammy…"

"Like you aren't already," the younger girl laughs.

The two hear someone walking up the ladder. Holly pokes her head up. "Found her!" she calls out. They hear Sammy sigh harshly with relief.

Yasmina chuckles. "Looking for me?"

"Yes, we've had a whole manhunt out for ya," Holly sputters, climbing up the ladder fully.

Ben climbs up and glares at her. "Yasmina. Lalia. Fadoula!" he snaps. "Where have you been?!"

"Hiding to get some peace and quiet," she chuckles sheepishly.

"If you want peace and quiet, just tell us!" he exclaims. "We could leave you in a room and make sure there's nothing you could use to kill yourself! I thought you were trying to kill yourself! You almost gave me a cardiac arrest! I'm shaking here!" He holds out his hands to demonstrate. They were trembling.

"Sorry," Yasmina winces with a laugh. "I was just up here talking to Rio."

"We've made progress," the girl says softly.

"Progress?" Ghaleb asks, coming up the ladder.

"I guess it's not exactly all my fault that Darius and Brooklynn got hurt…" Yasmina grumbles, finally admitting it.

"Thank you, Lord," Ben sighs. "I still don't want you sneaking off without us knowing your whereabouts. Brooklynn can't be trusted on her own, and neither can you!"

"Hey," Yasmina protests as the others laugh. "... Fair enough," she chuckles. "I guess it's better to have overprotective friends who have a panic attack when you disppear then to kill yourself and go three days without being missed."

"Yeah, that wouldn't be how it works with us," Ben says, hugging his friend.

"Nope," Ghaleb agrees, hugging his sister as well. Holly and Rio join in.

"Ey! Can y'all get down here so that we can join?!" Sammy calls up. Darius laughs in agreement.

"In a minute," Yasmina chuckles, closing her eyes and smiling. With her finally accepting that her self blame and guilt was unnecessary and irrational, she felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders and chest. She could finally breathe.

That night, she heads back home, with Ben staying the night. The amputee looks at her nightstand. The ball of tangled up strings Sammy gave her was sitting on it, untouched since Sunday night. She sits down on her bed and picks it up. Carefully, she fiddles with it and pulls a string loose.

Ben comes back into the room and sits down on the other side of the bed. Yasmina places the piece of string in front of him and drops the tangle of strings next to it. "What's this?" he asks, pointing to the lone string.

"Guilt," Yasmina says, smiling.