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...

37. Ep37 Perseverance

Author's note:

As we come into summer, screentime is being limited, so it's taking longer to write these chapters... also this ended up being MUCH longer than I antipcated. Next week, we're going on vacation, so I could either have less screentime, or more screentime... either way, prepare for the next chapter to take longer.

Also, have only seen a little bit of the third season, so NO SPOILERS!

---

"Why?!" Kenji groans, looking at the clock. It read 7:00. The sun was just about to rise. He groans again, really irritated. He was so tired, so tired. But that night had been so restless, and he had woken up early. "I'm such a sound sleeper, why is it that when I'm tired, I can't sleep?! Even on the island, I was out like a light!"

Grumpily, he gets up. He immediately bites his tongue to keep from yelping. His middle toe was so sore…

He gets dressed and limps out of the room, uses the restroom and limps downstairs. Not knowing what to do for breakfast, he limps out onto the front porch to watch the sunrise. Out of the corner of his eye, someone moves and startles him. "Early riser?" Sammy's Abuela asks.

Kenji looks her up and down. She had a figure similar to Sammy's, but was shorter. Not necessarily hunched over, though, she looked like she was in her late fifties, which couldn't be right. She had numerous wrinkles that crinkled when she smiled. She had grey, almost white hair and brown eyes that disappeared when she smiled. Her smile… it was kind and caring, but at the same time, said that she had something mischievous planned.

Kenji had met her, but hadn't had time to sit down and really get to know her. "Sorry, am I disturbing you?"

"No, no," Abuela waves with a smile. "Sit. Enjoy the beautiful sunrise."

Kenji obliges and sits down next to her in a comfy chair. They sit in silence for a few minutes before Abuela breaks the silence. "So, how do you like living here with us?"

Kenji chuckles. "Uh…"

She laughs. "Intimidated? Overwhelmed? Scared?"

"All three," Kenji admits, biting his lip.

Abuela chuckles. "So, you're seventeen, right?"

Kenji nods.

"What are your hobbies?" she asks, grinning at him.

"Uh… I don't have many hobbies," Kenji scratches the back of his head. "I wasn't too into sports in school…"

"Any arts?" she asks.

"I played the trombone," Kenji grins. "My Dad wanted me to be cultured and play an instrument. I was against it, so he let me pick the instrument. I picked the tuba because it sounded like a long fart, I could annoy the heck out of my Dad's staff while learning, and I could take over the band with a couple notes."

Abuela snorts. "Take over the band?"

"With such a deep instrument, Waltz of the Knights can be turned into Darth Vader's theme song," Kenji snickers. "I wasn't super serious about it, so I was always goofing off. I did fairly well in the concert, which shocked everyone because they thought for sure I would fail."

"You should join Rio in her band," Abuela suggests. "She's learning to play the violin."

"Yeah, Yaz's younger brother plays a lot of instruments, too. I liked acting in theater, too," Kenji nods. "But I didn't really get along with the director of the theater class cause I loved to improvise my lines and he hated that. I'd also drive him nuts by imitating other voices while saying my lines."

She cackles. "What voices can you do?"

"Well," Kenji says, switching to Micky Mouse. "I've practiced many, many different voices over time. I think I've just had a knack for it, though." He switches to Harry Potter. "I would sit alone in my room and just talk to myself in different voices. I also watched a lot of cartoons, so that helped as well." He switches to Optimus Prime. "I would annoy my Father's staff as they went about their business. As I got older I learned how to imitate real people that I knew, so I would fool them as well."

"That is quite the talent!" Abuela chuckles.

"Yee, folks would ask me if I had a personality disorder, but naw, I was just lonely," Kenji says, impersonating Sammy and making her Abuela cackle.

As the sun begins to rise, Kenji relaxes and talks with Sammy's Abuela. She was a kind, loveable soul, and she wasn't judging him at all. The two laughed a lot as she got to know him and he felt very comfortable around her.

"I like you," she declares. "You're a funny, nice boy. I think you would make a great husband for my nieta."

"Uh… granddaughter?" Kenji asks.

Abuela nods. "You might want to learn Spanish, and fast. You'll be baptized by fire in this family."

"Duly noted," Kenji sighs. "You really think I would be good for Sammy?"

"Sí," she nods. "I am an excellent judge of character, and you, muchacho, are a good kid. I see a kind and caring heart within you, and a desire to do good for others."

A small, grateful smile creeps onto Kenji's face. "Really?"

"Sí, sí!" Abuela exclaims. "I see God doing great things through you."

"You do?" he quirks an eyebrow, not really believing her. The funniest thing was that the thing he disbelieved the most was that he would do great things, not God.

"Of course!" she sputters. "Now, I must say this, we're not going to pressure you into believing in God. That is your personal choice, and we can't force it. But it might be a good idea to read the Bible and learn about our religion. It is like Spanish. Both are something that comes up frequently in conversations."

"Thanks for the advice," Kenji smiles. "So, you really like me? Your son doesn't seem to…"

Abuela cackles. "Eh, mi hijo is very overprotective of his children. We all are protective of our family members. That's just the way we roll. We're a close family and want to make sure anyone thinking about entering the family follows the same moral rules as us and gets along."

"I hope I can pass y'alls tests," Kenji says, his eyes lowering. "I'm scared that I won't be good enough."

"Be yourself," she smiles at him, taking his hand. "It sounds cheesy, but if you have to hide who you really are, it's not worth it. This whole process will take a lot longer if you pretend to be someone you're not. Just be honest and be yourself."

"I'm kinda in this weird place where I don't know who that is," he admits sheepishly.

"I think I see the real you," the old woman smiles. "And I think Sammy does, too. Don't worry, my son and the rest of our family will see you for who you really are, even if it takes you a while to find it yourself. Just try your best to be genuine and real. It goes a long way."

"If I can figure out who I really am, would they like me?" Kenji asks self consciously.

"I like the real you," she grins. "Shelby and Sandra do. Sammy fell for him. Give it time. They'll start to like you. Everyone in this family is hard on boys the first day. It's to test how serious they are about joining the family. Today, I'm sure things will lighten up."

"So you're just giving away the whole process to me?" he chuckles. "Isn't that kind of like cheating?"

"Pues, you stayed," she shrugs. "Pues means well," she explains after seeing his look of confusion. "Well, you stayed here. You're still trying, and you're still serious about Sammy. I don't think that's cheating."

"Thanks," Kenji nods. "That's… this has been really helpful. I do love Sammy and want to spend the rest of my life with her, but… you guys know her best and have her wellbeing at heart. If you guys don't think I'm worthy of her, then… why continue pursuing her?"

She smiles. "I'll talk to mi hijo. He's extremely protective. I don't see a problem with him getting to know you and evaluating you for the sake of his daughter, but if it starts to feel like bullying, I will tell him off. I am his Mama, after all."

Kenji smiles genuinely. "Thanks, Mrs. Gutierrez."

"Call me Abuela," she grins. "We're going to be related after all."

Her certainty in the future as well as her faith in him renews Kenji's hope. "Okay, Abuela. Oh, do you always pepper your speech with random Spanish words?"

She snorts. "Of course! My parents mostly spoke Spanish. Hardly any English was spoken in my house. I learned through public school. My sons grew up in a bilingual home, and so did Sammy."

"So switching between the two languages is normal," Kenji sighs. "This'll be fun to learn…"

"Don't worry, knowing our family, we'll submerge you real quick," she cackles sinisterly. "Sí means yes, and no means no. Hola means hello, adiós means goodbye. Gracias means thank you, por favor means please. Lo siento means sorry. Does that help a bit?"

Kenji nods. "Yeah, thanks. Er, gracias." He stands up and winces. "Oof, it still hurts."

"Et, et, et, let me see," Abuela says, gesturing for him to give her his foot. He sits down and lets her take his foot. "Hmm, your middle toe is definitely broken."

"Is it?" Kenji winces.

She nods. "It's not crooked… We'll wrap it up and put some ice on it and it'll be fine."

"Mornin', Mama," Mrs. Gutierrez mumbles, rubbing her eyes and yawning as she comes out onto the porch. "Imma make pancakes today. Want strawberries or blueberries in yours?"

"Blueberries, cariño," Abuela says. "Can you bring some ice and something to wrap a broken toe?"

"Ooh, what happened?" Mrs. Gutierrez winces, looking at the purple bruising on his middle toe.

"Dropped the couch on my toe," Kenji says sheepishly.

"Yikes, doloroso," Mrs. Gutierrez winces, heading back into the house.

Kenji sighs. "I see what you mean by being baptized by fire."

Abuela chuckles. "Doloroso, painful."

"Figured," he nods. Mrs. Gutierrez comes back out and helps Abuela wrap his toe. "Gracias Mrs. Gutierrez," he says.

"No hay problema," she shrugs, heading back into the house.

The old woman gives Kenji the ice and he elevates his injured toe. "Now, don't do too much walking around, and elevate it every few hours," she instructs him as she heads back into the house.

About fifteen minutes later, breakfast is ready and he heads back into the house. The whole family had come down for breakfast. Mr. Gutierrez had carried Darius down from his bed and he was sitting in a chair at the table. "Morning, Dare," Kenji says, ruffling the boy's hair as he sits down next to him.

"Where were you?!" Darius snaps. "I woke up and you weren't there!"

"Chill, bruh, I was watching the sunrise and talking with Abuela," Kenji shrugs. Darius rolls his eyes and rests his head on his fist. "You are really sensitive about this," Kenji thinks to himself.

"Breakfast is served," Mrs. Gutierrez says, setting plates down with the help of her eldest daughters. Sammy smiles at him from across the table.

"Let's all give thanks to God," Mr. Gutierrez says, taking Holly and Shelby's hands. Kenji uncomfortably takes Miriam and Darius's hands and bows his head like he saw everyone else doing. Mr. Gutierrez starts the prayer and then Shelby takes her turn. It goes around the table, and by the time it reached Darius, Kenji just wanted it to be over so they could eat. Funnily, Darius had a shorter prayer than the rest of them.

Then it came time for Kenji to pray. He opens his eyes and peeks a look at the family. Holly, Miriam, Sammy, and Mr. Gutierrez were staring at him, waiting for him to pray. Three of them seemed to be judging him, while Sammy was giving him a sympathetic smile.

Uncomfortable, Kenji clears his throat. "Uh… thank you for the food… uh…" As he tries to think about what to say, a thought surfaces: "Yaz."

"Uh, please give Yaz joy and laughter and happiness," Kenji says. "Help her combat depression and suicidal thoughts."

"Huuuh?" he frowns. "Yaz isn't dealing with depression or suicidal thoughts, that's Brooklynn." "And Brooklynn. Please give her happiness, joy and laughter." He looks at Darius, who was smiling at him and feels an urge to pray for him, too. "And Darius. You know what? Please give everyone joy and laughter and happiness."

The Gutierrez's chuckle. "I have too many names," Kenji chuckles, squeezing Miriam's hand to signal that he had nothing else to pray for. He peeks a look and Sammy was smiling at him before she closed her eyes.

---

"Alright, finish your breakfast, pack up, and we'll meet Mr. Heffernan and his mother," Mrs. Fadoula says, passing a plate of French toast to her daughter.

Yasmina plays around with her food with her fork. After her little freezing fiasco the other night, they had contacted the Pincus's and asked about letting her stay with Ben. The other teens were all in Texas, and while Yasmina and Ben would end up there eventually, currently they were alone. Neither one was coping with the separation. Ben had a better hold on himself, but even he was having bouts of panic and anxiety, with the occasional violent outburst. Yasmina had a hard time believing that Ben would react violently to anything. She had to keep in mind his cold behavior when they first found him on the island as he tried to cope with everything.

Her parents figured that it would be a day or two before they were able to get her to Maryland. But her track coach, Mr. Heffernan, was traveling to Washington DC with his mother and wife. Last minute, his wife decided to stay behind to do some work around the house or something. Hearing about the plight, the Heffernans had offered to change the name on the plane ticket and take Yasmina with them, as Ben's house was less than an hour away from the airport. Ben's family would pick her up and take her back to their house.

At least, that's how she thought things went down. She was a bit caught up in her thoughts when her parents explained it to her, so she wasn't positive that was how she got a plane ticket to Washington DC. All she knew—and cared about—was that that morning, she would get on a flight to Washington DC with her track coach and be picked up by the Pincus's to live with them until they moved to Texas.

"It's worse at night," she tells herself. "Things are worse at night. You're fine right now. You're fine…"

She forgot about the sensory issue taking over her life.

She hears the sound of teeth crunching through something and panic immediately surges through her. For a moment, she was back on Isla Nublar. A dinosaur was crunching down on something hard. Was it her friends? Another dinosaur? Would she be able to escape? Where could she run?!

Yasmina's flashback ends and she snaps her head up. Jabari was casually eating his piece of toast, playing on his Nintendo switch for a little bit before he had to go to school.

Never had she wanted to punch her brother so badly. She grips the table tightly, trying to control herself. She knew it was stupid, she knew he wasn't doing anything wrong, but that didn't stop the rage from filling her. How could someone she loved drag so much hatred out of her with something as stupid as chewing?!

Jabari looks up, hearing her hyperventilate. He rolls his eyes. "Good grief," he grumbles, tired of his sister's reactions.

He takes another bite of the burnt toast, and Yasmina physically flinches. Rage like she had never felt before rises up, and she feels the need to either run away or punch him. She knew that trigger sounds caused a fight or flight response; that was why she reacted with anger or panic. But never had she had such a strong reaction; her mind and body were reacting the same way they would to a dinosaur.

"F***ing b******," she mutters obscenely, enraged.

"Mom! Yasmina just cursed!" Jabari tattles.

"It's what you are!" she shouts at him.

"It's just chewing!" he snaps, purposefully taking another bite and chewing obnoxiously.

For half a second, all she saw was Rexy. Out of panic—and reacting in that split second flashback—Yasmina kicks his shin under the table, hard.

"Ow!" he shouts, pulling back. "That hurt!"

Yasmina stares at him with a mixture of rage, guilt, and fear. Half a second ago, he had been a dinosaur…

"Yasmina Laila Fadoula!" her mother snaps, slapping her daughters head with the damp dish towel. "What is this behavior?! You're reacting to nothing! It's just chewing!"

Yasmina's eyes sourly stare at her knees. She knew it was wrong to lash out like that, and she did feel bad. Never had she lashed out physically, and rarely did she lash out verbally. She knew it was her problem and not theirs, so she silently smoldered most of the time. If her siblings were really bothering her, she would growl in frustration and send them death glares.

But never had she hit or kicked or even called them names.

Yasmina tunes her mothers lecture out. It was the same lecture all the time. Always about how she needs to learn to tune it out and how it wasn't her siblings fault. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know!" she snaps in her head. "I'll feel guilty about it later."

"Look," her mother sighs, kneeling down next to her daughter and trying a gentler approach. "Just try to tune it out. You're a strong girl. If you put your mind to it, you can do crazy things."

Yasmina crosses her arms. "Okay," she says sulkingly. "Sure, let's try tuning it out. Never tried that before!"

Her younger brother sits down and Yasmina sets her elbows on the table, rubbing the sides of her forehead. "I am not annoyed, I am not annoyed. I'm fine. I can do this, I can do this—"

Her brother takes another bite. Instantly, she flinches. "I am not annoyed! I am not annoyed! I'm fine! I'm fine! I'm fine, I'm fine…"

In Yasmina's opinion, the reaction was worse than lashing out in anger. Instantly, she bursts into tears as memories of Isla Nublar come flashing back. "Just make it stop!" she wails in her head.

Her family looks at her in confusion as she covers her ears and sniffs, tears running down her face. "What's wrong?" her mother asks.

"It sounds like Rexy," she says through her crying.

Her family's reaction changes. "Okay, Habeeba, can you find her headphones?" her mother says softly. Her nine-year-old sister nods and dashes up the stairs to Yasmina's room. The rest of her family crowds around her, rubbing her back and telling her that it was okay.

Jabari sets his food down guiltily and, in turn, making Yasmina feel bad. "It's not his fault, he didn't do anything wrong," she murmurs in her head. Still, the anger at the sounds and the humiliation of pathetically crying was stronger than the feelings of guilt.

"Ow!" Yasmina shouts, jerking her left leg back in pain. An adorable face greets her under the table. Their husky moves forward to bite her leg stump again.

"Roxie!" her step-father snaps, trying to pull the puppy out from under the table, but the husky skids around on the wood floor and runs off.

"Did she break the skin?" her mother asks, checking over Yasmina's leg stump worriedly. There wasn't any blood, thankfully. They had been dealing with Roxie biting anything she could get her mouth on. Habeeba had many, many bite marks scaring her hands. It was part of the puppy stage, as well as Roxie being a husky. But when one is trying to heal an amputated limb at mouth level for the puppy, it isn't acceptable. Yet another reason why they needed to send her away.

Whether it was so she could heal or Roxie could be trained was yet to be decided.

Her sister brings back her headphones and Yasmina turns on some music while her family goes back to what they were doing before. She turns on her Billie Eilish playlist—probably her favorite artist. The music was dark, creepy, and emo in her opinion, and she enjoyed the dark feeling it gave her. Now, though, when she listened to it, the music gave her anxiety. Great anxiety. She felt this cold presence around her, as if someone was watching her. After a minute of enduring anxiety, she turns it off. Her family wasn't eating anymore, anyway.

"It's here," a sinister voice hisses. "It's followed me. It's here to get me. Run…"

The voice scares Yasmina, driving her anxiety to the brink of a panic attack.

"It's coming! It won't stop at anything to get me! I've put my family in danger! What have I done?!" the depressed voice cries.

Yasmina didn't know what she was scared of. She was pretty sure it was the Scorpius rex that the voice was referring to, but she wasn't entirely sure…

"What's wrong, honey?" her mother asks, noticing her pale face.

"Something… AH!" she yelps, pulling her leg back again. Roxie barks at her.

"Roxie!" her mother snaps, trying to pull the puppy away. "I will make a rug out of you!"

The puppy saunters off.

"She just wants to play," Habeeba explains.

"She can't be tearing out Yazzy's stitches," her step-father sighs.

"Are you okay?" her mother asks, checking her healing stitches for the umpteenth time.

"Something… always happens… when we think we're safe…" Yasmina trembles. After too many times of Kenji proving himself right, she was starting to believe him.

"No, no, you're safe," her step-father assures her, gently taking off her headphones.

"Something unexpected always happens when we think we're safe!" Yasmina tells them, panicking.

"Amazing, a booby trap that actually catches boobies!" Jabari's phone exclaims.

Yasmina takes a second to process what she heard, and when she does, she starts wheezing. "PFFFFFFFFFF HAHAHAHAHA!" she wheezes, laying her head on the table before leaning back in her seat. The rest of her family laughed, but she laughed harder. Her face turns red and voice becomes squeaky; she was not expecting that!

"That was unexpected," her step-father snorts.

Yasmina holds her stomach as she windshield wiper laughs. "I can't breathe!" she chokes out, still laughing hysterically. After a few minutes, she calms down enough to be able to breathe. "Oh my gosh, I needed that," she sighs.

"Glad I could be of assistance," Jabari chuckles, enjoying watching his sister die of laughter.

"What the frick did you watch?!" she asks, laughing again.

"Transformers video," he shrugs it off.

"Who said that?!" she asks, taking a sip of her tea.

"Optimus Prime," he grins.

"PFFFFFFFFF PFFF PFFF PFFF!" Yasmina spits out her tea and starts wheezing again. She falls off of her chair and lays on the floor, laughing hysterically again. Roxie comes over to investigate and starts licking her face, making the athlete laugh even harder.

"Okay, we got you up early to get ready for the flight, not so you could laugh at Optimus Prime saying boobies," her step-father grins, picking up the puppy.

Yasmina's mother helps her pack up what she needs and her parents take her to the airport while Ghaleb drives his younger siblings to school. Her parents hug her and kiss her goodbye, and Mr. Heffernan helps her onto the plane. She sits down in a window seat. Next to her sat her track coach's mother, and next to her, her track coach. "Thank you, Mr. Heffernan," she says as the plane takes off.

"No problemo," he grins. "It's amazing the stuff you survived. You handled it like a champ, and still are."

Yasmina gives him a small smile. She owed most of her track winnings to his teaching and encouragement. The man was very enthusiastic about his job and the teens he coached. He refused to let them give up and always pushed them to excel. On the days when Yasmina was feeling stubbornly unable to break her record, he was stubbornly for her, pushing her to work harder and run faster. Most adults she didn't trust, but he was different. She could spend hours upon hours on the track field alone with him and feel completely safe. Considering that she was cynical of adult men in general—it was taking a long time to recover from her father—it said something.

Her parents trusted him as well. Most adults weren't trusted alone with the Fadoula children. Too much trauma and distrust on their part. The parents were selective with who Habeeba, Jabari, and Ghaleb spent the night with; Yasmina was never a problem there. But they had no problem with Mr. Heffernan spending time with their children. He was like an unofficial uncle to them.

"What happened to you, darling?" her coach's old mother asks.

"Was trapped on Isla Nublar with dinosaurs," she softly explains.

"Oh my!" the old lady gasps. "Well, you just relax. You're safe now and don't have to ever worry about mean ol' dinosaurs again."

"Hopefully," Yasmina thinks worriedly.

"You're a fighter," her coach says. "A survivor. You've got this fire inside you that won't quit. Keep that fire burning, Yasmina."

"Okay," she nods. "The fire was extinguished the moment I lost my leg. I don't know how to reignite it…"

"Don't give up," he tells her. Yasmina has a suspicious idea that he could read her mind and struggles. "I always said you were my student who wouldn't even allow a lost limb to stop her from running."

Yasmina barks out a laugh. "Oh, yeah, you did."

"And I still mean it," he tells her. "If anyone on our track team could run with half a leg, it would be you. You haven't let anything stop you from achieving the gold. Don't let this stop you."

"Did my parents talk to you?" Yasmina asks, wondering how he knew that target this subject.

"Figured your fire was sputtering when you wheeled up in the wheelchair instead of using the crutches," he says.

"I can't run with a lost limb," she mumbles, looking at her leg.

"Don't give me that," Mr. Heffernan shakes his head. "You've ran with a torn ACL, sprains, and all sorts of injuries. Once it's healed, you can find a prosthetic and get back on the field. With your stubborn will, you won't even notice a difference in your ability to run."

Yasmina nods.

"The team relied on you for a reason, Yasmina," he tells her. "Because you were the strongest and the fastest. You pushed yourself the hardest and never gave up no matter the circumstances. All that effort made you the best runner in North Dakota."

Yasmina feels a sense of guilt. "The team relied on me… now what are they going to do? I can't run, and even if I could, I'm moving away!"

"Sorry that I can't run and that I'm moving away," she mumbles.

"It's not your fault, don't feel bad about it," he shrugs.

Yasmina gulmly stares out the window of the plane, sulking. She receives a text and checks her phone. "How's your day been?" Brooklynn asks through the group chat.

The athlete thinks about how to respond. "Anxious? Enraging? Terrible?"

"Amazing, a booby trap that actually catches boobies," the video replays in her mind, making her burst into uncontrollable snickering.

"So, I was drinking and eat my breakfast when my brother's video said, 'Amazing, a booby trap that actually catches boobies!'" Yasmina texts. "And lemme tell you, I did not expect to hear that and literally cried laughing once I processed what I heard."

The others send laughing emojis.

"It was so funnt," Yasmina texts, accidentally hitting the T instead of the Y. She stares at her phone screen before bursting into wheezing laughter once again. "Funnt. Funnt. Funnt. Funnt. Funnt." She sends, unable to comprehend how unbelievably funny the mess up was at the time.

"Are you having trouble with autocorrect?" Darius asks.

"Funnt. Funnt. Funnt. Funnt!" Yasmina sends, laughing hysterically.

"Funny," Sammy texts, trying to help her friend.

"FUNNT!" Yasmina sends in all caps, enjoying it a little too much. "FUNNT!"

"Yaz, are you drunk?" Ben asks, making her laugh.

"Brook, whatever drugs I took, you need to have," Yasmina texts. "I have too many uncontained giggles in me today."

"What are they called?" Brooklynn asks.

"We are NOT using drugs!" Sammy texts.

"Titties," Yasmina texts, before cackling. By now, passengers were staring at her.

"You're high on titties?" Darius asks.

"Where the heck is Kenji?! He would enjoy this!" Ben texts.

"BRUH, HOLD UP! WHAT WOULD HE ENJOY?!" Yasmina laughs.

"The conversation! Not whatever drug you're high on!" Ben explains, making her laugh even harder.

"How can you be high on titties?" Darius asks, his twelve year old, innocent mind very confused.

"Let's stop using that word, please, guys," Sammy texts, sending Yasmina into her hundredth fit of giggles.

The plane lands, and Yasmina is exhausted from laughing the whole four hours there. Even so, she didn't feel depressed, which was a plus.

Ben and his father meet her at the airport. Mr. Heffernan pushed her in her wheelchair, searching for her ride back to Maryland. Yasmina searches through the crowd before groaning with laughter. Ben was holding up a sign that read: "For the girl high on titties."

"I can't believe he actually wrote that," she laughs as they head towards him.

"Hey!" Ben grins, giving her a big hug. "So what was up with you?"

Yasmina laughs. "I don't know, Ben. I heard something funny and just couldn't stop laughing the rest of the day."

Ben grins. "Well, it's better than sitting in your wheelchair depressed."

She nods, agreeing with him.

Mr. Heffernan passes Yasmina off to the Pincus' and bids his student goodbye. "You and your family better come visit us sometime."

"We will," she smiles. They had enough friends in North Dakota that a trip would be worth it.

Ben helps Yasmina into the back seat of their car and they start off on their trip back to their house. "So, how's it going with Roxie?" he asks her.

Yasmina does a nod/shrug hybrid. "Good," she says softly.

"Is she biting a lot?" Mr. Pincus asks.

Yasmina nods.

"Ah, that's just puppy behavior," he grins from the driver's seat.

"How are you dealing with stuff?" Ben asks. "Must not be doing too good if you have to stay with us," he adds with a small chuckle.

Yasmina glances at Ben's father and shakes her head.

"Sorry," Ben mouths.

Ben tries a few other conversation starters to no avail. Yasmina would either give him a one-word whisper, or just nod or shake her head. "Are you being quiet because you're shy around my parents?" he asks.

Yasmina elbows him in the ribs.

"You don't have to be afraid of us, we're nice folks," his father grins in the rearview mirror.

"I forgot how shy you were," Ben chuckles. "I'm so used to the talkative Yasmina on the island."

"Cause I know you," she hisses.

"This is going to be a long stay," Ben thinks with a smirk.

---

"'You're such a turn coat.' 'You don't deserve the friendship Leah gave you.' 'You're a terrible friend.' 'So annoying,'" Brooklynn groans as she reads through the comments on her videos. "Why do we have to have stan culture," she sighs.

"I'm so unloved. Nobody cares. I'm just annoying and a waste of time," the voice whispers.

"I should just leave, now," another voice hisses.

Brooklynn groans and rests her face in her hands. Depression and suicidal thoughts kept telling her the same thing over and over again relentlessly. In her head, she knew those things weren't true, and she tried to remind herself of what her friends would tell her. But it was a constant mental battle. She had no rest from these thoughts; even in her dreams, they tormented her. More and more often, she wanted to give up and believe the lies. Convince herself that they were telling the truth. End it all…

"Don't end it, things will get better," a soft, gentle voice says. "I'll make it through. Things will be better."

"Do I have multiple personalities?" Brooklynn asks out loud jokingly. She knew she didn't, but with the seemingly separate voices in her head arguing, sometimes it felt that way. She wondered sometimes. Was there another person in there? One named depression and suicide and anorexia? Was there a good person in there, telling her to stay and live happily? Whose voice was hers and which was an imposter? Were they all hers? Were none of them hers?

"Brook! We're going to the ranch! Wanna come?!" Milton calls up.

She perks up. "Yah! I'm coming!" She jumps off her bed and runs downstairs out to the car. They were only five minutes away from the Gutierrez's ranch. When they arrive, Brooklynn finds Darius sitting on the porch. "Hey," she grins, giving him a hug.

He hugs her tightly. "How was last night?"

"Hell," she whispers, sitting next to him in another chair. "Just… nightmares and thoughts and crap."

"Yeah," Darius nods, understanding.

"There are so little people out there in support of me," she sighs. "The few good comments are shot down and basically yelled at by the Leah stans."

"Leah's got a cult," Milton sputters. "They're not going to leave her. You've got the rest of Youtube basically. Anyone who's not tied down to Leah is coming out in support of you. We've got a little civil war going with the #IstanBrooklynn and #IstanLeah."

"Really?" Brooklynn asks, not seeing many people in support of her.

"Yeah," Milton nods. "A lot of it's on Instagram and Twitter and Tiktok and stuff. Some are in other Youtube videos. Look them up. Just look up #IstanBrooklynn vs #IstanLeah."

"Okay," Brooklynn nods, beginning to type it in. She hesitates. What if it wasn't true? What if he was just saying that to make her feel better. As much as she hated being hated by the Troopers, she was more scared of possibly being rejected by the Internet on the whole...

"Leah's been spreading a lot of rumors," Brooklynn changes the subject, leaning back in the chair. "She said that when she went to visit me in the hospital, Yaz attacked her. Physically. Said she had the black eye and claw marks on her neck to prove it. Then she claims that I defended Yaz and encouraged the violence by spreading rumors about me. Said that… I called her a b**** and claimed that Leah hurt Yaz."

"So, in a way, she's taking everything she did and reflecting it on you," Darius growls.

"Did she actually have a black eye and scratch marks?" Milton asks, sitting on the porch railing.

"Yeah," Brooklynn nods. "She explained the whole story 'after' some fans noticed her injuries."

"Wonder what happened," he frowns.

"Oh, please, she probably faked it," Darius sputters. "Makeup and stuff. Or if she was really set on making it believable, hurt herself just for the story."

"What if she's being abused?" Milton asks.

"And who would abuse her?" Brooklynn asks. "Her parents are the nicest people according to Yaz, and her boyfriend is a really nice guy. I've met him before."

"People can fake it, and Yaz knew them years ago," Milton shrugs.

"Are you defending Leah?" Darius asks accusatively.

"No," Milton shakes his head. "I'm just saying, she might be abused and is using Yaz and Brooklynn to cover it up. Killing two birds with one stone, you know?"
Darius rolls his eyes. "Not Leah."

"I think it's unlikely," Brooklynn says, wincing. "Sounds more like she faked it. But, I mean, if she was being abused, I feel sorry for her. No way to tell for sure what happened, though. All I know is that she's spreading rumors about me and Yaz."

"What's wrong?" Darius asks, noticing her grimace.

"Crampy," she groans. "My cycle's been messed up since I started taking antidepressants."

Milton makes a face that was a mix between uncomfortable and disgusted. "Eww, TMI, Brook. We don't need to hear about your… you know."

Brooklynn turns pink in embarrassment. "Sorry," she mumbles.

"What's wrong with her saying that?" Darius asks, frowning. "She didn't give any gross details. It's not like she said it's gushing blood or something."

Brooklynn chuckles.

"It's disgusting to talk or hear about!" Milton exclaims.

"So, because you're uncomfortable, you're going to make her feel guilty for dealing with something natural?" Darius snaps.

"I'm not making her feel guilty for dealing with it, I just don't want to hear about it," Milton spits. "You telling me you're not disgusted?"

"Been there, done that," Darius shrugs, but it was anything but nonchalant. "After seeing all three of them go through what women have to go through, it's not bad. Well, not for us. It's worse for them. Imagine bleeding for a week straight and in pain and then being told that you can't talk about it because other people feel uncomfortable."

"I'm not saying she can't ever talk about it," Milton sighs. "Obviously she can talk about it with her girlfriends and stuff. But there's gotta be some proper etiquette here! That stuff shouldn't just be talked about all the time! It's improper!"

"So you have no problem talking about farts and bathroom manners, but menstruation period makes you uncomfortable?" Darius says innocently, tilting his head.

Brooklynn has to hold back her laughter. Darius had come a long way from the boy who stared at her in horror on the island when she told him it was normal.

"Oh, look at you being so fancy with your words," Milton sneers.

"Well, I could say period if you want," Darius says, folding his hands behind his head. "But you'd be uncomfortable no matter what I used." He turns to Brooklynn. "The crap you have to take from your own family is insane."

Brooklynn brings her phone to her face, trying to conceal that her jaw had dropped at Darius's boldness.

The tips of Milton's ears turn red with anger. But he smirks coolly. "Ah, leave it to the perfect boyfriend to swoop in and save her from her evil brother. You'd be even more perfect if you could be there for her instead of Brook having to come to you because of your cast."

Darius's jaw becomes tight and he grips the arms of the chair. Brooklynn remembers that when pushed to the brink of anger, words were not his strong suit. When in control of himself, he was very eloquent and inspiring with his speech. But when pushed past that loveable, caring nature of his, he would lash out. Physically.

Darius moves to get up out of the chair and Brooklynn puts her hand on his chest. "Darius, no!" she hisses.

Commotion arises as Sandra and Shelby let the dogs out of the house and they bark at and sniff the newcomers. While Milton was distracted, Brooklynn moved her chair closer and leaned her head on Darius's shoulder, lacing her arms around his left and trapping him there. He remains tight until Milton falls backwards into the bushes to avoid the dogs, making Darius laugh. The two younger Gutierrez girls coerce him into playing a game with them and the dogs, leaving Brooklynn with Darius. He remained alert, like he always was on the island. Alert and ready to defend her.

"I'm glad to have a friend like Darius," she smiles to herself. "One who's willing to stand up and protect me. How did I ever earn such a friendship?"

"He got hurt because of me," the voice murmurs, just having to interrupt the moment. "He cares so much about me, that he'd die for me. It's touching, but I could never live knowing he died for me… And now I'm causing strife between him and Milton!"

"Shut up!" Brooklynn shouts in her head for the umpteenth time. "Just let me spend time with my friend without feeling guilty or depressed!"

"Wish I could make him stop being a jerk to you," Darius sighs. "You deserve so much better, Brook. You deserve a family that loves and cares about you and treats you like royalty."

She smiles gratefully.

"I hope you know that," he murmurs. "I hope I've expressed how special you are."

"You have," she murmurs back. "It's me who's the problem."

---

"Aight, we got chores to do," Mr. Gutierrez says, getting up from his chair.

"What's Kenji gonna do?" Shelby asks. "If he's livin' here, he'll have to find a job."

"Or he'll just stay at home, livin' off his Daddy," Holly mocks.

"Says the twenty-one year old still living with her parents," Kenji good-naturedly retorts, making Sammy and Miriam spit out their food.

"He's got a point," Abuela laughs.

Holly rolls her eyes, but doesn't say anything else.

"Kenji can help check on the cattle," Mr. Gutierrez says. "It's calvin' season and we need to check on the heifers. Normally Travis helps me, but one o' the bulls knocked down the fence and he was gonna help his boys repair it."

"What's Sammy gonna do?" Sandra asks.

"Clean herself," Shelby giggles. "You stank so bad, it'll take hours to clean you!"

"You do need a bath," her mother says with a small smile.

"No," Sammy says decisively.

"Yes, you do!" Shelby laughs. "You stink!"

"You haven't had a bath in a while, I think it's time," her mother says.

"No," Sammy glares at her. Kenji had never seen her so stubborn before.

"Yes, you need a bath, Sammy," her mother says, raising an eyebrow testingly. "That is your job today."

Sammy frowns irritatedly. "I had three bad experiences with water within a week. First, I almost drowned. Then a day later, Tiff tortured me by holding me under water. Then a couple days later, Yaz almost died in the water! So, no, I don't want to take a bath."

"So you'd prefer to smell bad?" her mother asks.

"That's embarrassing," Shelby states.

"Good hygiene is necessary in this house," her mother says.

"Good hygiene is a social construct," Sammy sputters, making Kenji laugh.

"Young lady, I know you don't want to take a bath, but you're going to," her mother states. "You're not going to go more than four days, maximum, without a bath in this house."

"But—" Sammy starts to argue.

"Sammy," her mother says warningly.

The girl glares at her mother. She truly did not want to get in the water again. Not now, not ever. Too many bad memories. She crosses her arms and glares at the table.

The group separates to do their jobs. Her father holds off on checking on the cows to help Sammy get up the stairs. She hadn't learned how to get up herself and her mother was nervous about her falling. Kenji tries to help Mr. Gutierrez slowly transfer the wheelchair upstairs, but it was difficult with his broken toe.

"Please, let me do the lifting," Mrs. Gutierrez steps in, ushering Kenji away so that she could help with the wheelchair. The two get their daughter upstairs and Mr. Gutierrez heads back downstairs. "Don't make him walk around too much," Mrs. Gutierrez calls down. "His toe is broken."

"Eh, he can handle it," Mr. Gutierrez chuckles.

"Austin," his wife says warningly.

"I'm kiddin'," he says. "We won't go too hard on this walk."

Kenji gives Sammy a jittery thumbs up as they leave, and she returns them. She wasn't sure which was worse, taking a bath with PTSD, or spending "bonding" time with her Papa…

"Let's get you into the bath," her mother says, getting the water warm and preparing the bath.

Sammy glares at the water. The bubbling sound and rushing water from the tap was making her anxious…

"Come on," her mother sighs. "This was going to happen at some point."

Sammy lets out a reluctant sigh. Knowing her mother, she wouldn't be able to escape this. It's not like she could run away or anything.

"Let's get you undressed," her mother says, helping her onto the edge of the bathtub. Sammy was shivering, even though it was on the warm side in the bathroom.

"Alright, we'll put one foot in the water," Mrs. Gutierrez says, lifting Sammy's right leg over the edge and into the water. Sammy's jaw tightens, and she tries to keep her breath steady. The sensations coming from her legs weren't what they used to be, but she could definitely feel more than she could on the island. She could feel the water swirling around her foot and it was causing memories to resurface.

"You all right?" her mother asks.

Sammy takes in a shaky breath, fighting back flashbacks. She shakes her head. Her defiant, stubborn tone back at breakfast had left and was replaced with a fearful, almost begging tone. "Please don't make me do this Mama. No puedo hacerlo… (I can't do it…)"

"Sí, tu puedes. (Yes, you can.)" her mother says. "Dios está aquí contigo. Y yo también. (God is here with you. And so am I.)" She cups Sammy's cheek in a caring gesture. "No voy a dejar que te ahogues. Estás seguro. Lo único que te perjudica son los malos recuerdos. (I'm not going to let you drown. You're safe. The only thing harming you is bad memories.)"

Sammy nods, knowing she was right. Didn't stop the flashbacks from knocking at the back of her mind.

"Think you can put the other foot in?" her mother asks. Sammy grits her teeth and nods. Her mother lifts her left leg and gently places it in the water.

Sammy is grimacing, hissing through gritted teeth as she tries to think of anything but water. "Flowers. Rainbows. Sunrises. Cotton candy. Happy things! Think about happy things!"

"Sam?" her mother asks.

"Don't think about water… Think about deserts! The opposite of water! Dry, hot deserts! Deserts are awesome! They're… sandy! And… dry! And… sound similar to desserts! Desserts are yummy, right? Desserts are wonderful! Everyone loves desserts."

"Samantha?" her mother asks.

"Trying to think of other things," Sammy hisses. "I wonder what everyone's favorite dessert is. Brooklynn probably likes cotton candy… or candy in general… Ben likes carob, even though that's really disgusting. Wonder what Yaz would like… and Darius… Kenji ain't picky about any food. Definitely not about desserts. Wonder what Kenji's doing… he's not here… he's not here, he was the one who saved me when I drowned!"

"Sammy, do you want to get out of the water for the time being?" her mother asks as she starts to hyperventilate.

Sammy nods, and her mother helps lift her legs out of the bathtub and onto the tile. Sammy calms down a bit. "Naw, I wouldn't want Kenji here, that would be embarrassing… I'm naked and trying to take a bath. Wouldn't want him to see me like this. That would be awkward… of course it's better to be awkward than dead…"

"Should we try it again?" her mother asks.

"No," Sammy groans.

"We're going to try again," her mother says, gently but firmly. "But if you need some more time, it's okay."

Sammy takes a few minutes to calm down. "Okay," she nods through tears. "I think I can do it."

Her mother once again places her right leg into the tub. Sammy bites her lip, trying to think of other things. "Breathe in, breathe out," her mother instructs, slowly opening and closing her hand in sync with her breathing. Sammy follows her example, keeping her breath steady. It gave her something else to focus on, on top of controlling her breathing.

"Okay, let's add the other leg," her mother says, gently placing her left leg in the water. Sammy takes in a sharp breath, closes her eyes, and focuses on her breathing. After five minutes of steady breathing, her mother thinks it's time to move onto the next step. "Let's straighten your legs," she says, straightening them so that more of her body is in the water.

"Okay," Sammy nods, concentrating on deep breathing. This time, she had a better hold on herself and felt a small feeling of victory. "Maybe this won't be so bad…"

"Think you can get in the water?" her mother asks.

The girl musters up all the courage she has and nods. With her mothers help, she slowly lowers herself into the bathtub. She grits her teeth as she can slowly feel the water rising… and rising… and rising…

The sound of the roaring river comes rushing back. Instantly, Sammy is transported back to the Cretaceous river, tumbling around in the currents and choking in the water. She tries to flail her arms and hears a splash. Her body hits something hard and water hits her face. She screams.

"Sammy!" the muffled cry comes, and she feels hands under her arms. Her mother lifts her out of the tube to sit on the edge. Sammy pants, recovering from the flashback.

Sammy hugs her mother, crying as she goes through the terror of her torment. "I don't want to go back in," she sobs.

"It's okay," her mother assures her.

Sammy sniffs and pulls back, covering her chest. "This is awkward…"

Her mother laughs. "Samantha, I gave birth to you, nursed you, wiped your butt. This isn't so bad."

Sammy chuckles slightly.

The two try again and again to get Sammy in the bathtub, but she can't do it. Everytime the water touched her torso, she panicked and had flashbacks. They tried for about an hour before giving up. There was water everywhere.

"All right," her mother sighs, draining the water. "Let's try putting a chair in the tub and attempt a shower."

Her mother finds a fold up, metal chair that just fits in the bathtub. Between the two of them, they got Sammy up onto the chair. "Lean down," her mother says, and Sammy does so. Mrs. Gutierrez turns on the shower. The initially cold water hits Sammy's back and she jumps. "Are you okay?" her mother asks.

"Cold," Sammy grits her teeth, fighting flashbacks. But with the water merely sprinkling down her back, it wasn't as bad as being completely submerged…

"Is this all right?" her mother asks.

Sammy nods, letting her hair get wet. "I don't like it… but I can tolerate it. Still brings back bad memories but… it's not so bad."

Her mother smiles. "Want me to leave and give you privacy."

"No, no," Sammy shakes her head, the idea of being alone in water terrifying. "Please don't leave me…"

"I won't," her mother promises. "We'll put the shower curtain halfway around for a little privacy."

With anxiety, Sammy gets through a shower. It was a bit difficult to shower while sitting down in a chair and fighting her thoughts, but she managed. Probably wasn't the best job that she could do, but hey, she was fine with being smelly, anyway.

Her mother takes a towel and tussles Sammy's hair with it, like she used to when the girl was Shelby's age. Sammy giggles, and dries herself off. Then she got dressed in clean clothes. "See? You're all clean now," her mother says. "After…" she looks at her phone, "an hour and forty minutes."

"Was too much effort," Sammy huffs.

"Well, think you can take showers from now on?" her mother asks.

"If I don't have to do them too often," Sammy quirks an eyebrow, trying to work out a bargain.

"Three days, max," her mother says with a chuckle. "You need to get over this, though, Sammy. I know you're dealing with PTSD, but you can't let fear overtake your life like this."

"I know," Sammy murmurs.

"I'm not making you feel bad about it, okay?" her mother says, kneeling down. "It's okay that you're struggling. I'm not surprised by that. A lot happened to you. Just… let's try to work through this fear and PTSD. It'll take some time, but why don't we start now?"

Sammy nods.

"We won't push you faster than you're comfortable with," her mother says. "But you will need to be uncomfortable to face this fear."

Sammy sighs. "I know. I don't know if I'm ready to conquer this fear yet…"

"All right," her mother says softly. "Let's try to get you downstairs."

---

"Aight, can you ride a horse?" Mr. Gutierrez asks, approaching the barn.

Kenji hesitates. "I… rode on Triceratops' and Ankylosaurus' while on the island?"

The man thinks for a moment. "Sammy was steerin' 'em, wasn't she?"

"Yes, Sir," Kenji nods.

"Aight, we'll save the horse riding lesson for later," he decides. "Normally I take one a the horses to herd the cattle, but we'll take the jeep. Get to know each other."

"That sounds threatening…" Kenji mumbles.

"It's only threatening if you harm my daughter," Mr. Gutierrez casually comments. "Hop in."

Kenji chuckles nervously and gets into the jeep on the passenger side. The two drive out into the pastures. As they keep tabs on the herd, Mr. Gutierrez gives him tidbits of ranching information and tips, which Kenji tried to take as a good sign that he might be staying. The rancher continues to ask Kenji about his life, likes and dislikes, and history. Abuela was right; the questioning was more relaxed and less threatening. It was more of a casual questioning rather than an interrogation.

Despite the more relaxed manner—at least compared to the day before—Kenji couldn't keep his eyes off the large, intimidating rifle slung over the man's back. He was chilled then, but what if he started to dislike Kenji?

"Do you not like me, boy?" Mr. Gutierrez asks.

"Um, with all due respect, sir," Kenji stutters. "You've got a rifle strapped to your back. I've seen what Sammy can do with that thing."

The man laughs, stepping out of the vehicle to check on a cow. "You'll only have to worry about ol' Yeller if you hurt my daughter. You ain't gonna do that, are you?"

"Never," Kenji shakes his head.

"You've had other girlfriends before, right?" Samy's father asks, checking over one of the females.

"Yes, Sir," Kenji nods.

"And you're a player?" he pats the flank of the female. "She's looking healthy. And it's yessir. One word."

"Well…" Kenji winces. "I used to be. I… want to change that."

"You wanted to change it before or after you fell for my daughter?" he asks.

"Before," the boy says, struggling to stand up under interrogation.

"Ever had two games goin' at once?" Mr. Gutierrez asks, checking another heifer.

Kenji grimaces. "No… but one of my girlfriends did… Ruined the experience for me."

"So she cheated on you?"

"More like… she used me to cheat on the other guy."

"Oh."

"That was only once," Kenji insists. "Didn't…" He bites his lip, not really wanting to talk about this. But he knew that it would come out at some point; the truth always did. Better coming from him on his own terms than Mr. Gutierrez finding out some other way. Besides… the man was evaluating him… as afraid as he was, Kenji wanted Mr. Gutierrez's honest opinion… for Sammy.

"So, you did help a gurl cheat on her boyfriend?" Mr. Gutierrez says, his voice exuding a sense of accusation. And—was Kenji imagining it?—a sense of disappointment.

"Yessir," Kenji says nervously, hating how informal he sounded. "She approached me at a party… I wasn't dating anyone, so I didn't really care… I had a bit of a rivalry with her boyfriend, so… I felt bad afterwards. He was a nice guy… the only reason we didn't get along was because I was the class clown and he was an A student. Good role model. He didn't deserve that. Course, he didn't deserve her either, but I can't control what she did…"

Mr. Gutierrez nods in a way that drives Kenji's anxiety to greater heights. "How did you treat your girlfriends? Did ya ever hit 'em?"

"Nosir," Kenji shakes his head. "Except for… but we were taking Taekwondo together and she started sparring! I never hit a girl other than during a controlled, appropriate time like sparring matches."

Mr. Gutierrez chuckles. "Did ya ever bully 'em?"

"Nosir," Kenji shakes his head.

"Emotionally manipulate 'em?"

"No… un… unless…" Kenji thinks for a moment, second guessing himself. "I… I would tell them that I loved them and say romantic things just for… attention… is that emotionally manipulating?"

"Yeah," Mr. Gutierrez nods, leaving Kenji to feel like he had been punched in the gut. "What were your girlfriends to you?"

Kenji gulps. "... They… Most were like… trophies. Symbols of… masculinity…" he grimaces, knowing how bad it sounded. "Only there for the image. I tried to treat them kindly and respectfully… tried to be nice… but I didn't care. They… they were just there to fill a void and create an image."

Kenji couldn't meet the man in the eyes. Oh, the shame! The guilt! The hatred he had for his past self! How could he have been so selfish?! How could he have treated his female peers like that?! Kenji felt unworthy to stand in the presence of such a gentleman, unworthy to hold the hand of his daughter. How could he; his greatest fear was that he would harm his friends! Part of him begged Mr. Gutierrez to reject him… for how could he be good enough to hold Sammy?

"Ah, you're better than I thought," Mr. Gutierrez says. "Treating women kindly as long as they do their household duties respectfully and stay in their place. Good ethics."

Kenji's blood begins to boil at those words. Shock and rage fills him. "So, would you abuse your wife if she stepped out of line?"

"Nothin' a good beatin' wouldn't fix," the man shrugs, patting the flank of one of the heifers.

Kenji wasn't sure how to react. "With all due respect, Mr. Gutierrez… that sounds abusive and misogynist. I understand that your religion and culture places men as the authority of the household, but… I'm pretty sure you're supposed to love your wives and not beat them."

Mr. Gutierrez smiles. "I like that reaction. Respectful, yet still standing up against injustices."

"Oh," Kenji says, relaxing his fists. "You were… kidding."

"Testing you," Mr. Gutierrez says with a smile. "C'mon, let's move the herd."

Kenji stands still, staring at the ground as Mr. Gutierrez walks towards the jeep. There was one more thing he needed to address… But Mr. Gutierrez seemed to be warming up to Kenji… The boy had to. He had to tell Sammy's father, no matter the cost. It was worth it to be honest and not create a mess later in life.

"I got a girl pregnant," Kenji winces.

Mr. Gutierrez stops walking, and slowly turns around. "What?"

"There's no turning back now," he thinks, holding back tears. "I got a girl pregnant… the one who cheated on her boyfriend."

Mr. Gutierrez approaches Kenji and comes to stand in front of him. "You helped a girl cheat on her boyfriend and got her pregnant."

Kenji nods defeatedly. "She got an abortion. I… I didn't want her to, but I wasn't going to force her to go through with her pregnancy… I just wish that she had… talked about it with me. There… there was no communication. She didn't even tell me. I found out through her friends… When I confronted her about it, she was angry and explosive and blamed me, I… I was just confused…"

"Anything else?" Mr. Gutierrez asks, disappointment in his voice.

Kenji sighs. "Nosir." For the first time since he had been dreading meeting the man, he felt free. His darkest secret was revealed, his biggest regret spoken. There it was, all out in the open. His worst moment was told. He had nothing left to hide. There was nothing left for him to worry about. He felt free.

Mr. Gutierrez sighs. "Time to move the herd," is all he says.

Kenji climbs into the jeep and the two sit in silence as they help move the herd. By lunch time, Carlos and Travis had come to take over the herd watching shift, letting Mr. Gutierrez take Kenji back to the house. He leaves the boy to hang out with Darius, Brooklynn, and Sammy on the front porch.

"Well, how did it go?" Mrs. Gutierrez asks.

"He gotta girl pregnant," Mr. Gutierrez sighs, shaking his head.

"Really?" Mrs. Gutierrez says, surprised.

He drums his fingers on the kitchen counter. "Do we want that type of boy to marry Sammy?"

"What happened?" She asks. Her husband explains how they got on that subject and what Kenji had told him. "Well, sounds like he feels guilty and sorrowful for what he did. And it takes courage to come out and say it when you aren't asking for it."

"Yeah," he sighs.

"Do you not like him?" She asks.

"He's got a concernin' past," Mr. Gutierrez grumbles. "But… he does seem sorry about it."

"Austin," Mrs. Gutierrez quirks an eyebrow.

"I'm just sayin', he could be very good at acting," he shrugs. "It does take courage to tell me his darkest secret, though… and he does seem to be trying to do the right thing…"

"Give the boy a chance," she smiles. "You weren't perfect as a teenager, and there's things you regret in your past."

"I'll try, Bonnie," he gives her a kiss, before heading out onto the deck.

"Is Kenji dead meat?" Brooklynn asks, looking up at the man.

"What did you do?!" Darius asks.

"You haven't told them?" Mr. Gutierrez asks.

Kenji gestures to Shelby and Sandra, who were sitting on the wooden boards. "What did Kenji do?" Shelby asks curiously.

"Fair enough," he chuckles. "I'm… disappointed. But it takes courage to tell the truth like that."

"Am I still in the running?" Kenji asks.

"Yeah," Mr. Gutierrez nods, a little hesitantly. He didn't exactly want to give Kenji another chance, but the boy wasn't really bad…

"Papa! Can you have a tea party with us?" Shelby asks.

"Why, of course!" he exclaims. Getting an idea, he says, "Kenji, why don't you join us?"

"I say, that would be a lovely idea," Kenji says in a British accent.

"Yay!" the girl giggles.

"I drink tea, darling," Kenji and Brooklynn say at the same time. They start laughing.

"Okay," Mr. Gutierrez chuckles, unsure what that was about, but not caring enough to question it. "Kenji, why don't you help Holly set the table?"

"Yessir," Kenji nods, heading into the house. Immediately, he regrets saying yes, as it appeared Holly had overheard his… secret.

"So, you think you can date Sammy with your history?" Holly asks cooly, getting straight to the point.

"Uh…" Kenji stutters.

"Let me be clear, I ain't gonna put up with some cocky-gorgeous player knockin' up my younger sister and leavin' her to deal with it on her own," Holly hisses, practically shoving the stack of plates into his arms. He just about drops them. "If she's carryin' your kid, you ain't leavin' or I will personally feed you to the coyotes. If you even think of makin' a move on her before you two are married, I will tear you limb for limb and shove them up your a**! Do I make myself clear?"
"Uh huh," Kenji nods, leaning back in fear and shock.

"What?" Holly asks.

"You cursed," Kenji squeaks.

"You gotta problem, playboy?" Holly crosses her arms.

"No, but… Sammy does…" Kenji murmurs.

Holly tschs and goes off to the table. "She's not around."

Kenji attempts to keep as much distance between him and the older girl as possible while setting the table. He makes sure to sit between Brooklynn and Darius.

"Next week, y'all are starting school again," Mrs. Gutierrez says. "Y'all had a break from school, and we're allowing you guys this week off to get back to normal."

"Aww," Shelby whines. "I like staying home."

"You've had enough time away from school," her mother says.

"But not time at home," Shelby says, blinking innocently.

Her mother chuckles. "Kenji, Brandon, Milton, and Brooklynn can start school next week as well."

"Fun," Brooklynn chuckles.

After lunch, Kenji follows Mr. Gutierrez into Shelby, Sandra and Rio's bedroom. The twelve year old introvert had commandeered the loft in the barn to practice her violin and have alone time while the younger two had prepared a tiny table. "Why aren't you guys dressed up?" Shelby giggles.

Kenji looks over his outfit. A grey and black half-sleeved shirt, thick jeans that still had a bit of hay stuck to them, and dusty sneakers. "Oh, my, I have come severely undressed. My most sincerest apologies, Madams Shelby and Sandra."

The girls laugh. "Let's give them a makeover before the tea party," Sandra grins.

"Yeah!" Shelby laughs.

"Let's do it," Mr. Gutierrez chuckles, being no stranger to tea parties and makeup between his six daughters.

"Fair warning, I look like James Charles with a full makeup palette on," Kenji chuckles, sitting down on the floor to allow Sandra to do his makeup.

"And you know this, how?" Mr. Gutierrez asks, slightly concerned.

"Lost too many bets to girls," Kenji grumbles, making the man roar with laughter.

The girls get to work beautifying the guys. All the while, Mr. Gutierrez watched. No matter how much glitter and powder the girls pulled out, Kenji never flinched. He goodnaturedly took the makeover and took it in stride, laughing with the girls and playing along with their game. "Oh, no, come on! You're holding back on the glitter. I want to look beautiful!"

The two girls cackle and pretty much dump the entire container of rainbow glitter makeup onto his face. He didn't complain as they piled on blush, drew raccoon eyes with eyeliner, and he comedically puckered up for the lipstick, making them laugh harder. "You have a fuzzy lip," Sandra giggles.

"Oh, do you think I should grow a crazy beard like your Papa?" Kenji asks.

"No, you should grow a thin mustache so you can look grumpy and serious," Sandra states.

"Ah, so like a Samurai?" Kenji asks.

"No, like a ninja!" Sandra laughs.

"You can't see a ninja's face!" Kenji protests.

"No, like the ninjas with helmets and armor!" Sandra argues.

"That's a Samurai!" Kenji exclaims.

"No, it's not!" Sandra argues, laughing.

"Okay, after I learn Spanish, you're learning Japanese," Kenji says, wagging his finger in her face.

After the "makeover," the girls bring out the feathered boas and flowery hats. The boy doesn't hesitate to take a bright pink boa and promptly wraps it around his neck fabulously. "Which hat do you want?" Shelby asks, holding up a pink and a light green one.

"Hmm, well, the pink matches my fabulous boa, but the green offsets it," Kenji says, faking a British accent. "I'll take the green." The six year old gives him the hat and he delicately tilts it to the side. He over exaggeratedly strides across the room and poses for the girls, making them laugh. Miriam opens the door and pops her head in, jumping when Kenji turns around. She immediately closes the door and leaves, leaving the group to cackle.

"Trust me, I think the worst thing you have to worry about from me is walking in on me doing something weird," Kenji chuckles, sitting down in the tiny plastic chair.

"With this family, that won't be uncommon," Mr. Gutierrez shakes his head.

The girls serve "tea"—which was really just water—and tiny little desserts they baked in their play oven. Took a bit of effort to swallow the crappy, cheap play desserts, but for the girls, the guys managed and had a wonderful tea party.

"Let's go show the family our wonderful makeover!" Shelby suggests.

Mr. Gutierrez was fine with the spontaneous fashion show, and looked at Kenji. The boy shrugs. "Let's show off the future diva's work," he grins.

The girls run downstairs to tell the family while the guys take their time. "You handle kids really well," Mr. Gutierrez says, giving credit where credit was due.

"Really?" Kenji asks, a little surprised.

"Most guys who come around interested in my daughters don't take too well to a tea party," he chuckles.

"It was fun," Kenji shrugs. "I mean, makeup and glitter and boas aren't my preferred method of fun, but… spending time with others is."

"Wait here," Sandra instructs the guys, ushering them behind the wall.

"Think you could handle a bunch of daughters?" Mr. Gutierrez asks.

"Um, I never thought so before," he chuckles. "But… if I had daughters like this… I think I'd be happy about it. I think I'd want a mixture of boys and girls… Maybe even adopt."

"Did you and Sammy plan out the future?" Mr. Gutierrez asks, having asked this question too many times.

"Not really," Kenji shakes his head. "Not past getting home. Surviving kinda took up a lot of mental energy."

"So you want to adopt?" Sammy's father asks.

"I just see myself adopting kids on top of having my own," Kenji shrugs. "Cause there are so many kids out there without parents who love them…"

Mr. Gutierrez nods, and has no more time for interrogation when the girls urge them to come into the living room. The family and guests had been assembled, and they all laughed and cheered. "You look… special," Sammy laughs, seeing the new makeup look.

"Because I am," Kenji grins, leaning on her wheelchair. "I like your family, it's fun here."

Sammy tries to keep her smile from becoming a grin. Maybe… just maybe… he would be the boy to stay…

---

"And this is my room," Ben says, letting Yasmina's suitcase drop on the bed.

Ben's father rolls the wheelchair through the door. "I'll let you two catch up," he says, closing the door.

Ben turns around, only to be tackled with a hug. He chuckles softly, wrapping his arms around her back. The boy slowly backs up and sits down on the bed. Yasmina was silent, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck and shoulders. She was leaning on him, as if she was too tired to even sit up.

Ben holds her as tears slowly slide down her cheeks. His mother always said he had the gift of feeling other people's emotions. But right now it felt like a curse as Ben is tormented by Yasmina's emotions with no way to help her. Hugs were supposed to be comforting. But all it did was make his heart race with anxiousness.

"She's depressed," he sighs to himself. "Lacks the motivation to do anything… Doesn't think she can heal or return to what she loved the most…"

Ben was saddened by his friends state. She was lost, depressed, and tired, so tired. Dealing with depression took up her mental energy. In a way, predators were easier to deal with. Escaping the island was all it took to nullify the threat. When dealing with antagonistic thoughts, one has no escape…

"She's seeking help," Ben thinks. "She's crying out inside, but words don't come naturally…" Yasmina was lost. She didn't know who she was or where her life was headed. She was hurting. Her heart was in great pain. From what, he wasn't sure. She was tormented. Antagonized by her own mind. No, by something else disguising itself as her own thoughts…

"Yaz, I…," Ben sighs. "I don't understand what you're going through… But I can feel it. You may not understand what's going on with you… Just know that you can come to me for help. Even if that's just a hug…"

He debates on telling her that she could go to the Lord. She was seeking help, and the best advice he could give her was to seek God, but she didn't react well to that… It made her close down even more. She had felt that longing for something more on the island… She did feel God moving when she lost her leg… But fear of religion and abuse had kept her running in the opposite direction.

Before Ben could say anything, Yasmina sniffs. "Thank you, Ben… for trying to understand when I don't."

"You're welcome," Ben smiles, rubbing her back.

"Kids, time to get ready!" Ben's father calls.

"Ready for what?" Yasmina asks as Ben removes himself from her grasp and moves her to his bed.

"The family party," Ben says, compulsively starting to clean his room.

"The what?" Yasmina sputters.

"Yeah, the family party," Ben says. "My grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins haven't seen me since before the incident. We planned a gathering tonight."

"Uh, is this a small… a small party?" Yasmina asks, social anxiety rising.

"Yeah," Ben nods. "Just my Dad's parents, Bubbe and Zayde, and my Mom's parents, Nonno and Nonna. My mom's sisters, Arianna, Elena, Laura, and their husbands and children. Her two brothers Davide and Matteo and their wives and children. My Dad's two brothers Elijah and Jeremiah, and Elijah's daughter. And his sisters Hannah and Gabriella and their families."

Yasmina's jaw drops. "Can I just lock myself up in your room?"

"We're ordering pizza," Ben shrugs. When he turned around, Yasmina was deep in thought. Apparently pizza was important enough that she was considering coming out into a big party.

"Will I have to talk to people?" Yasmina frowns, in a predicament.

"Other than a simple hello and introduction, probably not much," Ben shrugs.

Yasmina sighs. "Fine," she says through gritted teeth. "How do I introduce myself? 'Hi, I'm Yasmina, the girl Ben spent two terrifying months of his life with.'?"

"I could always just introduce you as my shy girlfriend," Ben teases, earning a pillow thrown at his head.

That afternoon, Ben helps clean up around the house. Yasmina—trying to stay out of the way—had rolled herself into the corner of the living room and uncomfortably watched as the cleaning took place. Mrs. Pincus kept checking on her, but Yasmina would merely give a head nod or shake. Finally, Ben approaches her. "Are you doing okay?"

"I'm thirsty," Yasmina whispers.

"Do you want a glass of water?" he asks, and she nods. "Well, why didn't you say something?" he asks, heading into the kitchen to serve his friend.

Yasmina just bites her lip in response.

"Sweetie, you can talk to us," Mrs. Pincus says sweetly. "You're a guest here. If you need something, you can just ask."

Yasmina nods, staring at her hands. Ben felt bad for her. He thought she was shy around other teens, but she seemed to be silent around adults she didn't know. They might have moved to Texas before she finally warmed up to his parents!

The first to arrive were Bubbe and Zayde, who were overjoyed to see Ben. The two were interested in Yasmina, but saw how shy she was and gave her some space. Next were Ben's Aunt Gabriella, her husband and two daughters, Camila and Amya. The girls were about Habeeba's age, and got the most words out of Yasmina that Ben had seen from anyone but him that day. His Uncle Elijah brought Valerie, his shy daughter. Yasmina and Valerie were content giving each other a polite nod and not saying a word to each other.

"How many cousins are coming?" Yasmina asks in concern as another car pulls up.

"Uhh," Ben sputters, trying to name all his family members off the top of his head. "Aunt Arianna has Olivia, Carlee, William and Ricardo. Aunt Elena has Noel. Aunt Laura has Emery, Anthony, Matthew and Zaria. Uncle Davide has the four boys: Jaxson, Brody, Paul, and Fisher. Then Uncle Matteo has Dahlia and Amar."

"Uhhh…" Yasmina gaps.

"That's just my Mom's side," Ben says, making her eyes go even wider.

"You've met Valerie and Camila and Amya," Ben says. "Then Aunt Hannah has Nico, Gia, and Zaiden. That's all my cousins."

"I'm not gonna make it through tonight," Yasmina mumbles. "You guys are almost as bad as the Gutierrez family."

"We're Catholic," Ben chuckles. "My Mom's side is mostly Italian while my Dad's side is Jewish-ish."

As more and more family members arrive, the more crowded it gets. Being the center of attention, Ben was unable to stick with his best friend. He could see her having an anxiety attack through the crowd, though. She had a pale face and was trying to stick to the wall as much as possible. He felt bad for her, but with everyone asking him what happened on the island, it was best to avoid her for the time being…

The height of Yasmina's panic came when Nonno and Nonna arrived. "Benjamin!" his grandmother exclaims, scooping him up in her arms and giving him a bone crushing hug. "I was so worried for you!"

His grandparents pepper him with questions, before asking him about the other campers. "Uh, well, yeah, they survived," Ben stutters.

"Are you all still in touch?" Nonno asks.

"Well, yeah," Ben grimaces. "We're best friends now."

"Jasmine's here!" Amya unhelpfully points out.

Yasmina's eyes widen, knowing there was no escape. "Traitor!" she hisses to the little girl.

"My bambina!" Nonna exclaims, approaching Yasmina with her arms wide open. She pulls Yasmina up into a hug—much to the athlete's horror—and squeezes her. "Thank you, Lord, you survived! It's a miracle!"

She lets go of Yasmina. Off balance, Yasmina falls over onto her behind, revealing her left leg. She had put a blanket over her legs in an attempt to hide her leg stump. Immediately, the family notices it, and Yasmina's cheeks turn pink, embarrassed about her disability…

"Oh, my…" Nonna whispers. "Dear, I am so sorry for you…"

She moves to help Yasmina up, and the girl scrambles to push her away.

"Do you want to go back to my room?" Ben whispers, helping her up.

"Are you two courting?" his grandmother blurts out.

"Nonna!" Ben snaps. "Back off!"

Things got quieter. Ben was the quiet, shy kid in the family; he hardly ever raised his voice. Ben raises his eyebrows at his family, trying to tell them to ignore him and his shy friend. The guests hesitantly go back to their conversations.

"You want to lock yourself in a closet or something," Ben whispers. He becomes self conscious about his recent statement and the fact that he was holding her close. He helps her into her wheelchair.

Yasmina is about to say something when the food arrives. She grimaces. "I haven't had pizza in a while…"

Ben laughs. "You are such a foodie. Are you going to be bothered by the noise?"

Yasmina closes her eyes in dread. "It might be loud enough that I can't hear anyone… as long as the little kids stay far away from me… Unless it's super bad, I'll take it for the food."

Ben rolls his eyes with a chuckle. "What do you want? There's cheese, meat lovers, and veggies."

Yasmina lets a small smirk crawl onto her face and she lifts an eyebrow.

"Meat lovers?" he guesses and she grins. "Figured," he chuckles, heading towards the kitchen.

As he heads back towards Yasmina, two older boys follow him. "So, where's the girl sleeping?" the oldest asks with a condescending tone.

Ben rolls his eyes. "In my room."

"Ooh, that's spicy," the boy snickers.

Ben sighs. "No, it's not Jaxson. We're both having nightmares from separation anxiety, so staying in separate rooms defeats the purpose of her staying here."

"Will there be action?" Jaxson sneers.

Ben rolls his eyes, turns to Yasmina and pretends to gag at his annoying cousin. She nods. "Must be the cousins who bully him," she thinks, glancing at the younger one who hadn't talked. He was holding something behind his back… "What are they up to?" she wonders suspiciously as he pulls it out quickly and holds it to his face.

Ben turns around before Yasmina can warn him, and the boy lunges forward with a "Boo!"

All Ben sees is a very realistic Indominus rex mask lunging into his face. His cousins assumed he would react how he normally did: scream and fall backwards. But not this time. Out of reflex, Ben swings his fist around and punches the mask, moving quick enough that he ends up hitting his cousin in the face.

The boy falls over in shock. Jaxson gaps before snarling. "You don't hit Brody!"

He swings a punch at Ben. The boy ducks and rams his head into Jaxson's stomach. He knocks him over and tries to pin him to the ground. The older boy—just a bit bigger than Kenji—rolls Ben over and punches him in the cheek.

Yasmina stands on her right leg, spins and ducks down, like she was about to kick her legs up in a cool flip. Instead of flipping, though, she whacks Jaxson on the back of the head with her left leg. While he's distracted, Ben grabs the dull butterknife he had brought for Yasmina. His fight or flight response activated, he lunges at his cousin with the knife. While it does break the skin, the thick, dull knife doesn't do too much damage.

Jaxson looks at him in utter shock as Ben moves forward again. "Ben!" his father snaps, grabbing his son and pulling him away. Jaxson's father jerks his own son away, separating the two. Yasmina flops back down in her wheelchair.

"Ben!" his father hisses. "What are you doing?!"

Ben takes in a shaky breath, trying to take control of himself. Jaxson's mother pryes her son's hand away from the right side of his chest. A bit of blood was beginning to stain the shirt. "What have I done?" Ben asks himself in horror.

---

"Ces! You did not fight a viper, it was a rattlesnake!" Travis protests.

"Naw! It was a pit viper!" Uncle Cesario insists. "I had to tussle with it!"

"It didn't even bite you!" Sammy's father rolls his eyes.

"What do you mean? I have the scars to prove it!" the old man insists, showing two small scar marks on his arm.

"That was from—oh my gawd, I give up," Travis sighs.

"Frankly, tonight we've heard more stories from Uncle Ces than Kenji and the other campers," Carlos states. "And their stories are more interesting."

"That's not necessarily true," Miriam chuckles. "We just haven't heard their stories five million times."

"Yeah, what were we talking about before we went off on… whatever Uncle Ces said?" Brooklynn laughs.

"Oh, rodeos!" Travis remembers. "You guys should come by Uncle Ces's rodeo. Everyone in the family can do something in the show."

"Like, what kind of things?" Brandon asks.

"Bull riding, roping calves, barrel racing," Uncle Cesario says. "We also got a lotta trick riding going on, as well as shootin' while on horseback."

"I thought trick riding wasn't a competitive sport anymore," Brooklynn says.

"It's not, but it can still be a part of a rodeo," Uncle Cesario says. "Miriam and Sammy are our sharpest horseback shooters in the family."

The two girls blush.

"How big is the Gutierrez family?" Darius asks.

"I'd say we're related to at least half of the people in this town in some way," Travis chuckles. "Our family covers pretty much every job you can think of. We got doctors, mayors, teachers, performers, psychiatrists—supposedly."

"Kenji," Jorge says. "What would you say is your greatest strength, and your greatest flaw?"

"He thinks he's a psychiatrist," Traivs rolls his eyes.

"Uh…" Kenji thinks for a moment. "My greatest strength is creativity, and my greatest flaw is stupidity."

"How do those two go together?" Carlos asks.

"Well, I can't seem to avoid doing stupid things, so I want to become a slapstick comedian to at least make a living out of my antics," Kenji explains, sending the men into roars of laughter.

As the night progresses, Kenji strikes a good camaraderie with the uncles. He was quirky and goofy enough that he fit in with them, while being lighthearted enough that he didn't take their roasts to heart. "You know, the last bunch of boys your daughters have tried to bring home got offended when we'd make these jokes," Uncle Cesario tells Sammy's father. "Keep this one. I like 'im!"

"Yeah, Kenji's my brother!" Shelby declares.

"Looks like Shelby's decided that you two are married already," Brooklynn grins at Sammy and Kenji.

"They act like it," Mrs. Gutierrez chuckles.

Mr. Gutierrez rolls his eyes.

Kenji looks around the table. Uncle Cesario, Travis, and Jorge were in favor of him joining the family. Shelby and Sandra were supporters from the beginning, and while Rio never said much, she seemed to lean in favor of him. Abuela was definitely in support, and Kenji seemed to have won over Mrs. Gutierrez. Mr. Gutierrez was the one he needed to convince. Second would be Holly and Miriam. Holly being the ringleader and Miriam just following her lead, the two girls were overly suspicious of him. Maybe Carlos as well… the oldest uncle seemed a bit wary of Kenji…

"Don't dwell on that," Kenji tells himself. "Most of the family likes you. Sammy loves you, and she's the most important person to win over. Mr. Gutierrez might be a bit disappointed in you, but he respects your honesty and seems to respect me a bit. Sammy's sisters have probably been there, comforting her through heartbreaks. They're just being protective. With time, they'll all come around."

"I hope…"

---

"I'm causing strife between my family and friends! I'm not a peacemaker, I'm a troublemaker!" the voice shouts.

Brooklynn grimaces and covers her ears, wishing it could drown out those thoughts. She had no way of arguing with them… There was nothing she could say…

"I can get through this," Brooklynn tries to convince herself. "I am strong. I can get through these thoughts."

"With the amount of suicides, it's not likely," the voice hisses. "I'm weak compared to depression."

Brooklynn opens her eyes, and they rest on her phone. "Call them… Call someone…" she tells herself.

"No, they're probably sleeping, I'll disturb them!" the voice shouts desperately.

Brooklynn battles with the thoughts, trying to choose who to listen to. Finally, she decides to compromise and texts her friends, asking them if she was a burden. "Sometimes I don't think I can get through this. What if depression is too strong…"

"2 Timothy 1:7, For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind," Ben sends. "Remind yourself of that one when the thoughts tell you you can't make it."

"1 John 4:4, Greater is he who is in me, than he who is in the world," Darius suggests.

"Ooh, I love that one," Ben texts. "If you want that in a song, listen to Greater by MercyMe as you go to sleep."

"You're not a burden to us, and you never will be," Yasmina answers. "You're stronger than you think, and when you can't do it, we'll help."

"Just hold on till the sunrise," Kenji sends with a smiley face. "You're a strong girl. If you need motivation to hang on till tomorrow, I'm going to try riding a bull tomorrow. I know you'll want to see that."

Brooklynn laughs. "Thanks, guys," she sends. She knew she wouldn't get an answer from Sammy; the Gutierrez family made them leave their phones downstairs in the kitchen. "Greater is he, who is in me, than he who is in the world," Brooklynn repeats in her head, trying to focus on that more than the dark thoughts. She didn't care if it was religious or not, she needed something to keep her going through the night. If all else failed, she would hang onto the comedic image of seeing Kenji bucked off a bull.

In another attempt to drown out the voices, she finds the song Ben suggested. It sang of the same thing Darius sent. Repeating that to herself over and over again while listening to the song on a low volume, she distracts herself from the voices. Pretty soon, she was asleep.

---

"My parents have decided that I'm getting a pet," Ben sighs, flopping down on his bed. "An emotional support pet."

"Do you not want a pet?" Yasmina asks, putting her headphones on. Ben's parents weren't into the idea of the two sharing a bed, but considering their separation anxiety and nightmares, there wasn't another solution they could think of. Besides, with how shy Yasmina seemed, there wasn't much concern that anything would happen.

"Well, I'm fine with a pet," Ben sputters. "It's the principal of them trying to make me replace Bumpy that I don't like."

"I don't think they're trying to make you replace Bumpy," Yasmina says. "They just want you to have a companion that can keep you calm so you don't try to murder your cousins."

"Like I said, replace Bumpy," Ben sighs, checking his phone. Brooklynn was struggling with depression. He sends: "2 Timothy 1;7, For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind. Remind yourself of that one when the thoughts tell you you can't make it."

"Really? Something religious?" Yasmina frowns, criticizing his advice.

"What would you say?" Ben asks absentmindedly, responding to Darius's text.

Yasmina gives her advice. Out of the corner of his eye, something moves. Ben doesn't give it much thought; it wasn't uncommon for him to imagine something in his room. Yasmina didn't feel the same way, though; she sat up straight in panic. "What?" Ben asks.

"I thought I saw something…" she says nervously.

Ben gets out of bed and walks to his closet door. He had a black jacket hanging on the doorknob of his closet. There was an air vent above it. "The air from the heater probably made the jacket move," he theorizes, hanging it back up. Yasmina didn't look convinced. "Want me to close the closet door so that your imagination doesn't go wild?" Ben asks.

"I'm not scared," Yasmina sputters. "... But I guess you can close it. It… looks neater."

Ben shakes his head and closes the closet door before sitting on his bed. Yasmina normally didn't get nervous. It could've just been nerves and flashbacks, but part of him wondered if it was antagonization from another realm…

Ben gets down on his knees next to his bed, clasps his hands together, and closes his eyes. "Thank you Lord, my sovereign God…" Ben cracks his eyes open. Yasmina was staring curiously at him. He closes his eyes again and continues. "Thank you for getting me through this day, and blessing me with the opportunity to spend time with Yasmina…"

He opens his eyes again. Yasmina had quietly moved to sit directly in front of him. She was tilting her head and staring at him with a smirk.

Ben rolls his eyes, closes them and attempts to continue. "I thank you for helping Brooklynn through this day and for helping her through depression and opposition from her own mind…"

Ben feels something poking his forehead and opens his eyes, miffed. Yasmina was poking him with a mischievous smirk on her face.

Trying to be patient, Ben attempts to continue his prayer, again. "I thank you for helping Kenji through this day and for surviving the trials of the Gutierrez family—Yasmina!"

She snickers, finding joy by interrupting his strange, religious behavior.

Ben sighs and continues. "I pray for Darius to have peace and to not blame himself for every mistake that's ever happened—and I rebuke this gremlin activity in Yasmina!"

She cackles.

"At least, you're not depressed right now," Ben sighs, trying one last time to continue. "I pray for Sammy's healing, that she will be completely whole and be able to walk and run and do everything she could before—"

"You know, when you're praying in front of me like this, it looks like you're worshipping me," Yasmina points out.

Ben sighs. "Do I even want to open my eyes?" he asks, unsure if she would be in a weird position if he did. Her laughter and the sound of her falling over on his bed made him think it was safe. "I give up," he sighs, climbing into bed next to her. "Hope you enjoyed interrupting my prayers."

"Yes. I. Did," she says decisively, snuggling down under the soft covers.

Ben waits about an hour until he's sure that she is asleep. Then he gets out of bed, kneels down again, and continues. "Lord, I pray for Yasmina," he continues. "I pray for her salvation. She's crying out to you, but is too scared to actually reach out. God, you know her heart. I ask that you reach her, and help me do your work and guide her to you. Help put your disciples in her path to direct her to you. Help her recognize that these thoughts of depression and suicide are not hers, but an evil spirit tormenting her. And…"

Ben thinks for a moment. There was something about the way she jumped at the jacket moving… "I cast out evil spirits tormenting her, whether spiritually, mentally, or physically. I rebuke any demons following her around and scaring her. My God is more powerful than these evil demons and they have no place in this house or in my friends and family!"

---

Unbeknownst to Ben, Yasmina had woken up. She opens her eyes. Something heavy was sitting on her chest, choking her and making it hard to breathe. She struggles, trying to move her arms and knock whatever it was off, trying to roll over and breathe. But she was completely paralyzed.

Yasmina hears a monsterly growl above her, and something moves by her arm. Out of the corner of her eye, she could just make out the shape of something sitting on her chest. Something dark and evil…

"It's sleep paralysis! It's just a hallucination!" Yasmina yells in her mind, trying to convince herself of it.

As she panics, she hears Ben praying. "I cast out evil spirits tormenting her, whether spiritually, mentally, or physically. I rebuke any demons following her around and scaring her. My God is more powerful than these evil demons and they have no place in this house or in my friends and family!" he prays.

As he speaks, the weight on her chest is lifted and the creature slithers off the bed and disappears. "It's just a hallucination… it's just a hallucination…" she says as she falls off to sleep. "Hopefully…"