Lydia Melt

Something was in between my toes. It felt horrible. I tried kicking it off, but it stayed there.

"Ugh!" I said, louder than intended, as I sat up. I looked around. Realisation hit me.

Where was Mitch? I wrenched myself up and looked around. I saw something orange, glowing, so I walked towards it.


"Oh, hi... Come and sit down, warm yourself up, you must be freezing.." The voice came from a blonde, curly haired woman I recognised from the plane. Sally? Sophie? Her name definitely began with an 'S'. I didn't sit down.

"Where's Mitch?" There was no expression in my voice.


"He was er.. Sitting.. Near the front." I tried to remember the ten minutes that was just a blur to me now, the crash, then the hours, sailing towards this random island. All I got was blank paper. "Yeah. He has long, kind of.. flicky, brown hair. The most beautiful brown eyes.. You just look into them and you could swim forever.." I stopped, imagining diving into Mitch's eyes and swimming in them. I imagined his laugh..


"Oh. Right. So.. Er.. Have you seen him?" I'd only just noticed Susan's - yes, that was it, Susan - eyebrows furrowing as she bit her lip.

"You say.. You're sure that's what he looked like?"

"Well I think I'd know my own best friend."

"Sit down, darling, what's your name? How old are you?"

"Lydia Melt, seventeen," I said rather impatiently. Why couldn't she just tell me where he was? "Where's Mitch?"

"Honey, I'm afraid he.. He died, on the plane. I'm sorry."

"You're joking? Please tell me you're joking. Haha, you're pulling my leg. Stop fooling around. Seriously, Susan, it's not funny anymore," I said, smiling stupidly, trying to masquerade the empty feeling that was eating my insides away. My heart started to pound. Susan reached to touch me on the shoulder, attempting to comfort me, but I flinched away.

"Have some coconut.. stuff.."

"No. No way. Mitch is not dead. Do you know how sick you are?" A little girl sitting next t0 Susan seemed oblivious to all of this, she just sat there, stirring a pot of white liquid. Why was she so care free? Didn't she realise that I had just lost my best friend and had no idea where he was? "That is really, really sick. Honestly. You can't lie - to, to - to a seventeen year old girl about her best friend being dead. You have reached all time low, you have." And with that, I stood up sulkily, looked around the island and set off, determined to find him.

The End

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