Hi friends! Here is a short not chapter chapter! I hope you are enjoying the story so far. This short is not part of the current story, so don't be shocked. I'm just adding an advertisement story in the middle of the current story. Btw, my friend from school is helping me write this short, so this story will take place in the future a couple years. This short is just a sampler story/trailer, so if you guys like it, I can make a whole separate story on it. If you end up wanting me to make a whole separate story on this, I can. Just let me know in the reviews. Anyways, enjoy!

Note: This is a story based on Season 1 of Jurassic World: Camp Cretaceous when nobody trusts Sammy, especially Brooklynn, but the reverse. In this story, nobody can trust Brooklynn, especially Sammy.

Brooklynn's (POV)

I lift my head from the soft pillow on the bunk. The sun hasn't risen yet. How early could it be? I think, rubbing my eyes with my rough fingertips.

I glance around at the surrounding bunks. My five fellow campers are sleeping soundly. I rise slowly, trying not to make a sound.

Silently tip-toeing over to the fire pit, I slide a hand cautiously into the hole and pick out a few charred logs from the previous night. Yuck. I glance at my fingers, black from the charcoal.

Minutes later, out of the corner of my eye, I see Darius lifting his head ever so slightly, "Brooklynn . . ." his voice trails off.

I raise my eyes to look at him.

"Why are you up so early?" He manages to say through a yawn. Then his head slumps back onto the pillow and continues to snooze.

I find my mouth open as I was getting ready to give him a response to his question, but I just smile. It's nice living on an island where you never have to get up early. But we do . . . for some reason. I shrug. I guess it's just a habit.

It's bright out soon enough and everybody is starting to rise from their bunks. As usual, Ben and Yaz do some fish catching and gathering while Sammy and Darius are doing some other chore or activity around our treehouse. And then there's Kenji, who's always getting himself into trouble or lounging somewhere, not caring to contribute to our survival.

There's me, who's always in the kitchen. I guess you could call me the cook. I have little experience in my life outside the island, but find it's kind of fun. I get to be extra creative because being picky here isn't an option.

But unfortunately . . . I'm not exactly a good guy. I came here to work for a company, Manta Corp. Since I was desperate for some real money and this seemed like the only job suitable, I took it regretfully. Now I'm stuck here with six other campers, whom unfortunately, for my case, I've grown to like. My boss says I have to find the genetics lab and gather information and material for them by the end of the week, or else they'll eradicate my home and punish everyone in my neighborhood for it. I should've never taken the job. The consequences are unreal. I can't let everyone down.

I walk over to my bunk and feel for something from underneath my sheets, shooting glances around me to ensure nobody's watching. Nope. Coast is clear. I pull a black phone–Sammy's phone–from under the covers. It's a little damaged, but still usable.

I took this from her bed while we still had our old treehouse, since I discovered photos about my research on it somehow. Scared, I stole it, intending to convince her that it probably broke and got lost somewhere in the debris and wood. I dangle the phone by my side and glare out at my friends, so happy and trustful of everyone. A wave of guilt washes over me.

They have no idea–I'm the one they can't trust, that there's a way of getting home, right underneath my sheets.

Hey guys! That's the short story! It was just a break from my current story, and I'll hop right back into the current story right after this chapter. Let me know if you guys want a full story on this short. I'll be happy to write it! I'd appreciate reviews! Thanks for reading!