Sorry it took so long, hope you all had an awesome summer!

On summer 14th, the season's first monsoon touched ground. It wasn't really a surprise to any of the villagers; never in the history of Flower Bud had there been one summer in which foul, raging tempests didn't scream across the thriving fields. Perhaps Summer was jealous that his brother, Winter, got to cause so much trouble with his frost and decided to wreak his own havoc. There were many myths like that—old, ancient stories that parents told to placate curious children. Monsoons hadn't been a major problem in the past, but recently it seemed that each year they were getting progressively worse. And although the people prayed to be spared from those terrible winds, nature did not cease in its rampage. After all, not all prayers can be answered. Terrible things happen even when people don't want them to. Some blamed the relatively new spike in sporadic weather on global warming, and some insisted it was just a phase in the grand scheme of time that would pass. Only two people in Flower Bud knew the real reason.

One of them was currently huddled on the floor of a newly- built chicken coop, clutching a young chick to her chest as she tried to control her haywire heartbeat. Now more than ever, she was regretting not checking the weather channel before she began her work like she always did. It was a dark and stormy morning, but the young girl decided she would brave the storm. 'Just a few more minutes,' she reasoned with herself, 'and then I can spend the rest of the day at home.' If only she had listened to the wise voice in her head telling her to go back inside.

She was frightened, but convinced herself that the other farmers in the area were probably working, too. This was probably nothing to them! That is, until a portion of her fence was suddenly ripped out of the ground and sent flying right towards her. Diving into the cold, muddy ground, she dodged the debris and tried to make a quick plan. The house was too far away to get to safely, despite her ranch being relatively small. Looking to her right she saw, with much relief, her chicken coop just a few feet away. Like a soldier in combat, she crawled through the grime as the howling winds threw her pigtails around wildly. The storm had gone from bad to dangerous in those few, short minutes. When she finally reached the coop, she jumped through the doorway as fast as she could. After briefly fighting against the wind, she finally got the door shut firmly.

The coop was pretty new, but still, it was no more than a small shack. Scanning the room, she spied an assortment of left over construction materials, meant for making small repairs. Standing shakily, she made haste and began hammering boards across the windows. As the last board wedged into place, the coop went pitch black. Thankful for Ellen's warning to always keep an emergency flashlight in her knapsack, she plucked out the desired item and flipped the switch. Her newly hatched chick's tweeting alerted her to its location, and she swept the beam of light through the coop until it hit a small, yellow ball of fuzz. The last thing she needed during a hurricane was a squashed chick; thank goodness her only animal was safe and sound. She paused. Something about that was wrong. 'Only animal?...'

"Oh my Goddess, Mocha!" she wailed. Before she even had time to stand, a loud bark resounded behind her. Tina jumped, startled and on edge, but wasted no time twisting around and hoped her brain wasn't making the sound up. There Mocha stood, covered in mud much like his owner, with a wagging tail and a fierce look in his eyes. The older he got, the more and more he became like a guard dog, never straying far from Tina's side. The young woman cried out, kneeling down to embrace the dog as she blubbered apologies.

"Oh Mocha, I'm so sorry! I don't know what I was thinking!" Wet and dirty as he was, she held him to her chest, teary and feeling worse than she probably looked. "I'm the worst owner ever Mocha, oh I'm so, so sorry! You're gonna get all the treats you want when this is over, okay boy? Don't be scared, I'm right—"

Literally out of thin air, lighting roared to life with a bloodcurdling crack. Mocha tore away from Tina's arms and shot toward the window. Much to Tina's astonishment, he began to bark at the imagined intruder, teeth bared. Tina attempted to coax the dog away from the window, but with every snap of lighting, she found herself back on her knees and unable to take another step. Mocha didn't know who was out there, or what it wanted, but one thing was certain; they were not going to get at his mama!

Ever prepared, Jamie was fairing considerably better. Having checked the weather multiple times in advance, the young but experienced rancher jumped into action the night before. Long, grueling hours were spent carefully inspecting his coop and barn, making sure everything was secure and sturdy. He heaped on extra portions of food for each animal, as well as dragging in any large container he could find to fill with water. Lastly he pulled up storm windows on every building, as well as custom- made doors for the barn and chicken coop. Having finished his work, Jamie stood proud and dusted his hands off. Now, all there was left was to wait out the storm.

Behind him, a low whine sounded. Calvervtutrp pawed at his pant leg, as if to say, "Don't forget about me!" Jamie kneeled, ruffling the fur on top the dog's head. "Yes, I know. What, you think I'm dumb enough to forget you and just leave you out here?"

Just because staying inside during the storm was the safe, smart thing to do didn't mean Jamie had to like it any, though. Sitting around all day doing nothing? Out of the question. There had to be something productive to do. He paced the living room, pensive and eyes wandering aimlessly. They met the rug beneath his feet, and suddenly and idea struck Jamie. Wasn't he due to clean house around this time of the month? Jamie had always been a very organized individual who was no stranger to the importance of a hygienic household; a trait not usually associated with farmers or men. In fact, he was a bit of a neat freak, so to speak. Within minutes, Jamie was busy sweeping, cloth dusting, mopping—you name it, Jamie had either finished it or was about to start it. This seemed to help his cabin fever immensely. Now he was getting stuff done! The roar of the winds outside was soon replaced by the roar of a vacuum cleaner, and Jamie was currently quite pleased with his good idea. "Of course," he muttered softly aloud, as many people often do when no one is looking, "I am a genius, after all." As if to punish him for his ego which was more inflated than a float at a Macy's Day parade, the vacuum cleaner suddenly gave a weary moan and shut off. A fraction of a second later, so did the lights. Jamie hung his head and sighed. Whipping a small flashlight out of his back pocket (Because seriously, what kind of idiot wouldn't be prepared enough to carry a flashlight around during a hurricane? Anyone who needed to be told to do such a thing would never function as a proper adult), a small ray of light soon shone through the shadowed den. Maybe now would be a good time to have lunch.

"Cal!" he called. "Come on now, let's eat!" He stood, expecting to hear the soft shuffling of his trusty canine's claws clicking across the floor, but it never came. Peering through the living room's entryway, he stepped into the dark hall beyond and groaned. "Not this again… 'Find the Calvervtutrp', my favorite game!" he cheered mockingly.

Looking at a dog like Calvervtutrp, one would never guess he had any sort of weakness. In fact, quite the opposite; for dear Cal was a fierce little thing, black as night with eyes like fire and brimstone. Yet through every storm that passed Flower Bud and every crack of lightning, the brusque canine was cowering somewhere, usually under a bed or table. Today, of course, was no different. Jamie swept the flashlight under his bed and sighed as the light bent around a huddled, black figure. "Cal, this is pathetic. You are an attack dog. Stop shaking like a Chihuahua and get out from under there!"

The dog whimpered in protest. Surely, the nice sturdy bed would protect him from any approaching calamity! Jamie lifted the bedspread on top of the mattress and dropped to his knees. Sensing his master's attempts to reach out and grab him, Calvervtutrp let out a few more whines and he frantically scooted further under the bed. Meanwhile, Jamie was shoving his own arm further into the darkness, barely swiping at tufts of slick, black hair each time he lunged forward. His shoulder was beginning to hurt, it was dusty under the bed, and his only source of light had since rolled away from him. With a grunt, he pulled out into the open air.

"Fine, stay under there! But no lunch if you do, you hear?" he called. Jamie picked up his flashlight and left the room. Soon after, he heard the familiar sound of little claws clicking against the kitchen tile behind him.

And later, much later, in the dead of night, a storm brewed inside the young man's mind that was perhaps even more terrifying than the raging winds outside. Without warning, he was suddenly sucked back through time to a day not so long ago. In mere moments, he knew where he was; he just didn't know how to stop it. Images and emotions rushed through his mind, almost interchanging like photographs being flashed in front of him. A comatose girl lay pitifully upon the sand, listless. Behind him was an amalgamation of shouts and people running to and fro, each person rushing to help in some way. Inside his own heart was a like something was being torn, slowly and painfully. Even more frightening was that he didn't know what it was or how to make it stop. However, more than all of these things, one thing stood out the most. An image that was burned into his psyche, and shined more hideously than the rest. No, he didn't think he'd ever forget the sight of those pigtails, the symbol of her childish nature and her innocence, wrenched every which way. The way the ugly trash from the ocean was woven into her earthy hair, almost as though she'd been underwater for far longer than a minute or two. Those bright, bouncy, annoyingly girlish ribbons, now unraveled and frayed at their ends. What evil force had seen such a shining spirit, and deigned that it needed to be snuffed out? Even if she was irritating, even if he never understood the way she gave to others, why would anything ever want to hurt her like this? Why was she being taken away? Why, why, why?!

With a start, Jamie jerked awake, his upper body swinging blindly into the darkness above his bed. After a few moments, he calmed his breathing and slowly unclenched his fists from the sheets woven between his fingers.

'Weird… Why in the world would I dream about that?' Turning his gaze to the window, he heard the torrential downpour outside and he knew. He had a feeling his rival had back luck when it came to water and potential natural disasters.

Summer 15th

Little by little, the people of Flower Bud slowly emerged from their homes to survey the damage. Once they had established that their own homes were intact, the villagers would then visit their neighbors, to ensure their friends' safety and offer help if it was needed.

Except for Jamie, of course. He, most certainly, was not doing that. And perhaps, if someone had noticed him strolling around the river near Sky Ranch, they would think that maybe he was checking up on a certain neighbor of his—which he wasn't.

He was just curious, that was all. For yesterday's storm wasn't just any storm; indeed, the tempest that had passed mere hours ago was the first hurricane that had graced the doorstep of his sworn, most hated rival. And oh how he was going to love seeing how badly it ripped her measly little farm apart! Keeping a discreet eye on the small ranch behind him, he slowly traveled up and down the stream. Halfheartedly, he cast his fishing rod into the water as the minutes ticked by.

'What's taking her so long?' he thought with a vague sense of déjà vu. Everyone else had already come outside and gone back in by now! He sucked in a deep breath between gritted teeth. 'Where the heck is she?!' Knowing a lazy, airheaded girl like her, she was probably inside her house, still sleeping. He chuckled. 'In fact,' he sneered, 'She's probably cowering under her kitchen table, too afraid to come outside. Hah, the weakling!'

With haste, he shoved his fishing rod back into his backpack and headed for Tina's door with a brisk pace. Almost as soon as his feet touched her front steps, he rapped his wrist upon the door thrice, each time with a solid, purposeful knock. After five minutes and still no answer, he began to lose his patience. Huffing, he crossed his arms across his chest and leaned back.

"I know you're in there, you slacker! It's way too late in the morning to still be moping around inside," he called, itching to start something. Only silence answered him.

"What, are you chicken? Grow a backbone and get out here, you pathetic excuse for a rival!" he fumed, insulted that he would be ignored in such a way. Who did she think she was, brushing him off like he wasn't even there?!

'But maybe she's the one who isn't there,' a small part of him reasoned. That couldn't be, could it? If she wasn't at her farm, where else was she? Out in the woods somewhere, all banged up?

He shook his head, fighting off a shiver. 'Not possible,' he scoffed.

Any minute now, she would pop her chatty little head through the front door and find some way to get on his nerves. "Oh, Jamie," she'd say, "How sweet of you to come give me a wake up call!" All with that saccharine grin on her face and the smallest hint of sarcasm.

'…Any minute now.'

He checked his watch; almost seven minutes had passed.

'Aaaaaany minute now."

Though he knew this wasn't the case, he didn't want to accept it. If she wasn't at home, where was she? What had happened to her? Drawing in a deep breath, he chided himself for being so silly. She was probably visiting a friend of hers. After all, the entire island seemed to be smitten with the idiot. Later, surely, she would be home. He'd just have to wait until then to rub whatever destruction had befallen her into her face.

Just as he turned around, he was met by the sight of Ellen. She gave a polite, if a little strained, smile. "Jamie," she greeted. "I was just going to see Tina myself. Is she home?"

He scowled. "Apparently not. If she was, would I staring at her front door like an idiot?"

The young woman gaped, wringing her fingers through her apron. "Ah, I guess so. …It's a bit worrying, though," she said quietly. Jamie turned his head from his rival's home to glance back at Ellen curiously.

"She hasn't come out all day. I've tried knocking, too, but she won't answer. And the phone lines are down, as well… I hope she's all right."

Tossing his head, he scoffed. "Humph. If she hurt herself, it's because she did something stupid. Why waste time worrying over an idiot?"

Ellen scrunched up her face, obviously confused. "But, then why are you-?" Behind her, a shout sounded out. "Uh, coming Blue! Be right there!" As she jogged back to her home, she turned her head back to the disgruntled farmer. "Let me know if you see her today, please?"

And just like that, he was the only person on the street again. Ever so cautiously, he peeked around him. Content with the knowledge that no one else was around, he turned to pound on his rival's door.

"Damn it, this isn't funny, you idiot! Come out here right now or I swear—"

Before he could finish his threat, loud noises in the distance distracted him. It sounded like a bunch of things clunking about; maybe bricks? No, it sounded like wood being tossed around. He could swear the sound was coming from near the river on the side of Tina's property. Just what was it? As he walked over toward the fence, he heard the distinct sound of a door swinging open. There, stumbling out of a chicken coop and covered in dried mud, was a very tired looking Tina.

Just the sight of her almost made Jamie's jaw drop to the dirt. It was all so familiar; the way she looked so beaten down, so trampled and soulless. And her pigtails, Goddess, why did they have to be all yanked around and ruined like that? For an agonizing moment that seemed to last an eternity, she was lying on the sand again, half dead, and Jamie thought he was going to be sick. Once again, she was fading away, and he was powerless to stop it. Even when he came back down to reality, he couldn't move. He could barely think. He knew nothing but the horrible black hole in his chest and the rushing of his blood in his ears.

Tina grimaced as her eyes adjusted to the light of the sun, rubbing her forehead. Blinking rapidly, she looked forward to see none other than Jamie. "Jamie?" she rasped, her voice tired and throat dry. With a cough, she attempted to clear her aching esophagus. "What are you doing here?"

Bewildered, he shakily said the only thing he could think of. "…What are you?"

AAAAAAWWWWW YISSS IT'S DOOOOONNNEE! Thanks so much to all of you readers and reviewers, as well as my sister, who pretty much helps me come up with half the plot. Once again, sorry I couldn't get so much done this summer. Having a job can be a good and bad thing.

As always, feel free to leave a review. Your support means the world to me. Happy Harvesting!