Nessie: Casualties

Honestly. Everyone keeps getting injured. If I had paper and pen close at hand I'd keep a diary of the number of out-passings, if that's the right word. I never liked writing, apart from drawing up science experiment methods, which for some reason I enjoyed, but I'd love to keep a record of our misfortunes.

I feel so sorry for poor Karissa! Kevin takes things more in his stride than Karissa, and I think it riles her a bit that he doesn't take things as seriously as she does.

In any case, when Bree speeded ahead of me I saw the edge of the cliff coming up fast. Visions of James going over played themselves in my head, and I screamed at her. She turned her head but she just carried on running, right over the edge.

Me and Jim lay down and peered over, careful not to disturb any rocks or ground on top of her if she was hanging by a patch of grass or something. But she lay still on the sandy beach twenty feet below, a heap of clothes.

Kevin slid down the rocks to the beach and bent over her. Jim and I tried to scrambled down too but Kevin stopped us with a severe look that plainly said, "Don't come down and don't tell Karissa yet."

We would've ignored him but when Jim slipped on the seaweed we decided that it would be more intelligent to stay up on the top of the cliff.

Kevin did a quick survey and from the top of the cliff we saw Bree's body twitch a bit. Kevin squatted on the sand and we could see his lips moving, a groan was heard in reply.

She was alive, and her back wasn't broken, so much to be gained.

Kevin carried Bree back to camp within the hour. Jim and I had been gathering firewood, and we made quite a procession as we reached the clearing that sloped down to the beach we had come from.

Karissa gasped as she saw us, but Bree was smiling wanly, and she relaxed a little as Bree lifted her head.

"Just a little fall," said Kevin lightly with a grin, and Karissa tensed up again.

Kevin laid Bree on a pile of leaves near the fire, and Jim and I stoked it up with our firewood. James lay on the other side of the fire, his arm and leg splinted with twigs and the fraying remains of Kevin's belt. Sarah was also lying not far away, her ankle propped on a log and her shoulder and chin covered in grazes and bruises from where she had fallen on the rocks. Three major casualties.

I sighed and drifted away down the beach. My eyes slowly followed the horizon line where the clouds were black and gold in the dying sunlight and the sea was fading to greyness. And I knew that somewhere on the horizon, and further out, my parents were sitting in our living room with purple bags under their eyes and migraines from worry.

Well, I imagined so. Unless my parents weren't worrying. They were strict and old-fashioned, twenty years old than everyone else's parents. I wondered if they really loved me so much. I was stubborn and often dubbed dull, because I don't say much and when I do say things it seems as if I am brazen and confident, which perhaps I am, although no one seems to bother about that in people who are always talking. Maybe people kid themselves that they intimidate me, and then I come out cold and unruffled, and they seem to hate me. I don't know. Just a theory of mine.

Why had no one come looking for us? The question crossed my mind. Had we entered through a magic portal through the storm, into a parallel world, and now the portal had closed and the ships and helicopters were searching fruitlessly for us?

I imagined the scene, revelling in it. Then I pushed it away. This was the real world. Magic didn't exist. I shouldn't be thinking up excuses for our situation. I should be helping to put it right.

I turned my back on the sea, and my family, and started back up the beach. Maybe I could dampen some bandages for Sarah's cuts. Seawater helped cuts, didn't it?

The End

94 comments about this exercise Feed