• Trenton •

The sweet solace of my own bed was all I needed to stay sane. Yet, here I am, under the foreign sheets of the hotel bed. Even under them, and a sweatshirt, I still felt cold. Frigid. Freezing. Much like the hostility I received from Josephine.

Usually, after an incident like this, it was take me days, or even weeks, to recover. But now, I fear that this dreaded feeling might never go away. This … pain. Just a mere passing thought of anything she said to me gave me a pain that erupted in my core— like a stabbing knife. Especially if I thought about her vague last words on how she is the reason I am on the island in the first place. A mixture of hopelessness and failure induced a pit of worry and anxiety inside me. It was a pain I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. I've been through this pain before, but not since the incident. I suppose that enough time had passed that I thought I forgot the sensation entirely. It is obvious now I am gravely mistaken.

It all came crumbling down in the span of that one sentence: "Trenton, we're done."

And back to present day: I am currently in the hotel bed, experiencing the same extricating mental anguish, caused by a string of different words with the resulting imposter syndrome being all the same.

I had remained balled up on my side on one side of the bed for a while. When I turned around to the other side, something crumpled underneath me. I shifted up to see the letter I had gotten from Josephine, still unopened. My curiosity got the better of me, and I tore it opened it. I suppose I was looking for some silver lining of hope in my despair to help me get through. Deep down, I was hoping it would help at least a little. I pulled the piece of paper out and began to read,

Dear Trenton Cohen,

Congratulations! Your acceptance into the Jurassic World Internship Abroad means you are well on your way to a thrilling career in neo-paleontology and biological replication. Such a career will take you all around the world and all through time and provide a thrilling and satisfying job in a market that is rapidly rising thanks to our advances here at Jurassic World. We hope this is the first step towards your long and illustrious career as a Jurassic World scientist.

On the tenth of June, please report to the front of the Innovation Center. Someone will escort you to your quarters and give you further instructions on what to do there.

Jurassically yours,
 Claire Dearing, Operations Manager.

It provided with me with very little solace— especially with the tenth being so far away from now. Though, I did occupy my thoughts with the redundancy of "neo-paleontology," for some odd reason (not to mention the "Jurassically yours").

I let out a sigh and a severe pain shot up through my body again. Of course the letter was no help, it was only a formality to tell me where to meet. Why did we have to come here a whole two weeks before the internship starts? My dad and grandma deserve this vacation because they have invested a tremendous amount in me with my mental health. Now … all undone. Because of her.

"Trenton, you in here?" The soft voice of my grandmother came in from the hallway. I grimaced with a tight frown and wince before ducking under the blankets completely. I stayed completely still, hoping she would go away, thinking I was asleep.

She pulled back the covers to uncover a pale-faced Trenton, peacefully "sleeping" away the exhaustion from the flight and ferry into the island. But alas, a simple, peaceful countenance and closed eyes could not elude Grandma Sylvia.

"Oh nooooooo," she elongated the 'o', though the empathy was still blatantly evident in her voice. "She got to you, didn't see? I knew she would, I knew it was a bad idea."

I pulled the covers back over me and muttered out my infamous catchphrase: "Leave me alone."

She didn't say anything. The only sounds were a sigh and a the shuffle of slipped out of my room. That was strangely easy. Worryingly easy. She never lets me just be alone like that.

Only thirty seconds later, she came back. I could tell what was in her hand by the sound it made. Pills in a bottle. And I knew immediately what they were: my antidepressants. Before she could say anything or pull back the covers, I let out my plea, "No, please god no."

"Trenton, I think you should"

"No …" I pled. I not only hated the side effects of it, but also the return to lowest point of my life. I was done with that, right?

"Your father said I shouldn't have brought them, but look who was right and who needs them right now."

The pills never made me feel better— all they did was take away the depressed part of my depression. In doing so, they seemed take away all of my emotions. It took me from sadness to not caring at all about anything. Not much of a difference, but they were the only ones that worked for me. Yet, that was the result I was stuck with. I don't take them any more because in the past year, I've been getting better with dealing with depression. I was able to manage it with the help of my family and friends as well and focused on the studies it used to hinder. But when I used to take them, it was a vile cycle of depression and apathy for nearly and entire year. A Catch 22 of the worst kind.

I slowly peeked out from under the covers and let out a sigh. My grandma had a blank, yet still intimidating look on her face. She was like a statue. An old, sassy statue holding out a pill in her hand and a glass of water in her other. I clenched my jaw and got out of the bed.

I sighed, "Grandma … it …." I didn't even bring myself to answer her entirely.

"Listen," she said, disregarding my last remark. "I'm not going to ask you what your mother said or did to you— unless she put her hands on you!" She suddenly stopped speaking with an intense look in her eyes. I shook my head, stepping back. "Good, but I won't ask what happened. I'm just … going to take you somewhere." She put the bottle and water down on the nightstand.

"What … where?"

"Something that I know with my grandmother's intuition that will also help you feel better."

There's something about that old woman's grip on my wrist that made me contemplate the benefits of gnawing my arm off. I kept my head down and I only knew we must have been outside along the main road. I had no clue where she was taking me. All I saw were various shoes of all kind and around me, chattering voices occasionally drowned out by announcements over the loudspeaker.

I was lead somewhere by the old lady clad in yellow with the huge hair that I know and love as my grandmother. Though, at times like this her tough loves is harsh against my very tender mental health.

We were somewhere near the main drag. When I finally looked up I saw the pyramid where I was a few hours ago in the distance. Yet, I was being ushered (by more than just my grandmother now) into a large stable area. As I began to really pick up on my surroundings, I noticed we were ushered into this pen. Wood chips on the ground, a stable nearby, the sound of children either screaming or giggling or crying, and the smell of what I assume to be a month-old beached whale.

Oh God, it's a petting zoo.

"Why the hell are we here?" I asked, looking around at the tirade of children running around me.

"Why do you think?"

"Honestly, this is so out of left field; even for you."

"Big shot with all those brains in your head and you can't figure out what's happening here?"

I turned around to face her, but, before I could say anything, she was gone. It took a second to spot her. She had found one of the handlers and, when I did spot her, she was whispering something into her ear. Before I knew it, it was right in front of me.

"This is Coco," the handler said.

She had the gentle eyes of a kitten and even a little smile on her face to boot. Her little horns were surrounded by soft and smooth scales and her bony frill. God, she couldn't have weighed more than twenty pounds; less than a week old! Instinctively, I held her like a baby. She leaned against me and let out a coo. My hand pet her back, like I would any pet, and she seemed to even purr.

My rational mind and my emotions were at odds inside me, but not in a negative way. My mind simply couldn't fathom how there was this incredible beast in my arms being as gentle as any other domesticated animal, all while my inner child sang like a canary.

This is it. This is why I'm here.

My grandma must be physic: "This is why you're here, remember?" she grandma asked me. Through the beaming smile and shear wave of happiness that enveloped me, I quickly wrapped my arms around her, giving her a tight squeeze.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"Of course, sweetheart! What did you think, I was gonna let you sit in that room all day because of what some broad in a pantsuit said to you," she pulled away. "Plus, I don't know how you deal with this heat in that. Ugh, I'm shvitzing." I let out a laugh and realized that I was a little heated up after that spectacular ordeal. The deep freeze was gone. "Trenton, you know you're stuck on this island because you worked to be here. Your father and I are extremely proud of the work that you put into this! Don't let your motha' get to ya'. You're a strong boy who I know will have the time of your life here. And … who knows," she gave me a cheeky look at of a sudden, nudging me with her elbow and a small wink. "maybe you'll pick up a boy to bring home!" I let out a chuckle and little bit of an embarrassed blush.

"I honestly doubt I will."

"Hey don't say that because you never know. And I'm not saying you have to find one, but if you do … ask if he has a widowed grandfather."

"Grandma!" But she was not done yet,

"And if he's got an oxygen tank, tell me what color it is so I can paint my nails to match."

"Oh my gosh …." I sighed, both blushing profusely and trying vainly to contain my laughter.

"C'mon, let's stop for some ice cream on the way back. I think I saw a Ben and Jerry's— safe to say if I ever get lost in the park, check there first."

"I'll keep that in mind. But, you go ahead. I just need another minute with her."

"Take your time, sweetheart," she stepped off and on her way after giving that final note.

I gazed back at the small beast in my arms, still looking up at me.

The entire experience was just magical, though, for some odd reason, my entire focus wasn't on the dinosaur. My mind was lingering more than I wanted it to on my grandmother's suggestion about finding someone.

Me? Find someone here? Don't be ridiculous. I'm Trenton Cohen: the boring, scrawny, pale, weak kid from Nowhere, USA. I'm nothing special; plain. People don't go for me. Before Cameron, I did not even think about dating. But after I had that euphoric feeling of being in love, I was left with a hunger of wanting more. Yet, more never came. I'm left what I am today: apathetic and even more boring.

I let out a sigh, looking back towards the direction where my grandmother went only to find that she made it only fifty feet. I had to hand my new baby back to the handler. I shook the thoughts of love from my head.

Just as I was about follow after her, someone stepped in front of me. I wasn't until they said anything that I realized they were talking to me.

"Hey."

I looked up and there, standing just a few inches taller than me, was a boy about my age. He couldn't have been older than me, but he gave that mature aura. The way he dressed seemed typical enough: a red shirt with a light gray hoodie, unzipped. His hair looked somewhat disheveled and greasy, as did his face. He looked like he hadn't showered in some time. But, he did have these wonderful chocolate colored eyes. And his pink lips were in a small, but very warm, smile. I couldn't think of any reason as to why he is talking to me, but I knew he was expecting an answer, so I didn't delve into the possibilities. I didn't think much for a reply, my mind preoccupied and all, but I gave one that's not unusual for me to give, "Hi?"

Silence. His smile just slowly morphed into a flat line, his warm eyes got dull, and his whole face turned deadpan. Now he was just staring at me. I was getting nothing from him. I couldn't stand another second of this.

"Um, I have to go," I uttered, avoiding eye contact. And with that, I stepped around him and went to meet up with my grandma, forgetting all about the incident by the time I got my ice cream.

Revision note: yeah, yeah, he's a trainwreck, right Trenton?

I chopped off a fair bit in this chapter, hopefully it helps the flow.

And with that ... a 3 am revision is done!