Young Writers Society

They walked back to the river in silence, and but the closer they got, the more the rushing sound of the waterfall drowned it out. The noise was normally a comfort, but it felt like it was only making James's head pulse harder, with more insistence.

Evaline was leading Elliot, and she kept glancing at him, as if she wanted to ask him if they should stop, but James didn't want to. He wanted to make some distance from the thieves, and they needed to get back to where water was. Those were reasonable priorities, and he could endure a little walking to accomplish them.

When they finally came to a stop, Evaline tied Elliot by a scraggly tree, and James could see the sword he'd stolen where their other saddlebag used to be. He finally put two and two together - that was the bag with thier food. Otherwise, Evaline wouldn't have the med kit, or any of their clothes.

So, now they had to worry about going hungry. More worries to add to the growing list.

He had a feeling that Evaline would refuse any of his help if he were to offer to help cleaning out his blood-stained clothes, or the blanket, so he decided to take the path of least resistance. He found a patch of dry grass by a rock and sat down, leaning back, with his feet by the edge of the water.

He could see Evaline already getting to work, pulling out the soiled clothes and the soap, and walking up near him, where there were several large boulders to lay things on.

She threw the blanket on a boulder and took one of the shirts to wash first, crouching by the slow-moving water near the base of the waterfall.

"Did you get hurt?" he finally asked. Though it didn't seem like she was pain, not all wounds were that visible. That, and he needed something to distract himself. Just sitting in the pain was near unbearable, and though he'd done it many times before, it didn't mean he enjoyed it.

It should have been a simple answer, but Evaline seemed to mull this over while she scrubbed the shirts. "No," she said simply.

"Elliot?" he asked.

"No," she said again, this time without hesitation. "Neither of us got hurt."

"Good," James said, with a heavy sigh. He paused for a moment, feeling a stabbing pain shoot through his ribs. He snapped his mouth shut as he took in a slower breath, trying to manage it.

"We'll have to forage while we travel later," he said, his voice a little more strained than he would've liked. "Since they took the food bag. But we'll be moving slower anyway, so, it's fine."

Evaline stopped working for a second and took a deep sigh before turning to face him. She was hard to read, but he could see the pity in her eyes.

"Does it hurt to talk?" she asked, completely changing the subject.

A nervous laugh started at the back of his throat but was quickly cut off when it only made everything hurt more. He hissed in through his teeth.

"A little," he understated.

"A little," she echoed back, doubt seeping in her voice. She turned back and took the shirt out to lay it out on the boulder to dry. "We don't have to talk, then. If it hurts."

"No I--" he said a little too quickly. "It. I'd rather -- it helps. Just. As a distraction. Something. Something else to think about."

Evaline looked up to study James again before nodding and turning back to the river to wash the last shirt. "Okay," she said softly, deciding it wasn't worth arguing over. "We can talk."

She paused, trying to think of what to talk about.

She already told him she didn't get hurt because, well, the last thing James needed to hear was that she almost died, and she only hoped this didn't come back to bite her if he still—for whatever reason—still had dreams of the lost memories.

And she didn't want to think about the depressing thought of not having food. James said they would forage, but she had no doubt that in both of their minds, they knew it was going to be difficult. Even with a full bag, they were struggling to find food in the wild. They'd have to go to another town, maybe. How far away was that? A person could survive, what, a month without food? That was doable. But at what cost? How long could they personally go without food? The dangers of the desert suddenly started to put a heavy weight on her, and she aggressively scrubbed the shirt to let it out.

Somehow, this felt like her fault. She should have slipped back in time again and fought the thief off so that he wouldn't steal the bag. She should have not used that last bullet to mock him like he did to her, and instead used it to...

But she didn't want to push herself to go back again, and that was selfish of her.

"I'm sorry I couldn't protect the saddlebag," she said dryly, letting the guilt seep in some more.

"What?"

James almost sat up straighter, but even the twinge of movement made him wince again.

"Evaline, I'm just happy you're okay. Food, we can figure out. But I can't bring you back if --" his breath hitched in his lungs, and he snapped his eyes shut.

He needed the distraction, but he could barely focus on the words leaving his mouth with his side stinging and throbbing. He could feel tears welling in the back of his eyes, but he kept pushing them back, over and over again. But doing so made his throat tight, and he already sounded strained and pitiful as it was.

He had to bite back an apology he knew Evaline would chide him for, but it made his heart sink to do so.

"You're here," he finally said, his voice quiet, and thin, like he was holding his breath. "That's what matters."

Evaline knew James was not going to let her blame herself, but she wanted to tell him differently. How, if she was alone, she knew she'd get away unscathed and without a single item stolen, even if it was three against one. But she wasn't alone, and that made things more complicated. And selfish.

"I know," she said curtly, staring intensely at the water as she washed away the last of the blood on the shirt. "It's just, it could have been..."

She bit her lip, deciding not to say anything more. It was best to keep this to herself, especially since James wasn't in the right mind for this conversation. She paused and turned towards him, noticing and hearing how strained he looked and sounded. This couldn't be an easy thing to talk about for him, mentally and physically.

It was hard not to empathize with him.

"Let's talk about something else. Something not related to what just happened," she said smoothly, turning back towards the water. "Think and tell me. Unrelated to survival, what else is on your mind?"

If James needed a distraction, she'd be happy to give him one. Whatever he wanted to talk about, as long as it didn't involve their current pathetic situation. They'd have plenty of time to think about that.

James kept his eyes closed in an effort to keep back the well of tears collecting behind his eyelids. What was on his mind? Anything? Anything. He just had to think of something, anything.

"I don't know," he said weakly, with what would've been a laugh, if he could laugh. But it sounded more like a heavy breath. "You liked to read back home, right? Do you remember any of the stories? Tell me about your favorites."

He felt his throat knotting up.

"Tell me about the stories," he said in what was almost a whisper.

James practically whimpered and begged to hear a story, and it made Evaline's heart sink a little. He didn't want to talk. Not really. He just wanted to listen to something and distract himself.

She shot him an understanding look and nodded. "Of course," she said quietly, turning back to the water and thinking of a story to say. There were many she could recount out loud, but it had been a long time since she reminisced over one. She wondered which one she should pick.

"We've talked about sea creatures before, so what comes to mind is a book called The Little Mermaid," she said, spending excess time cleaning the shirt. "I'm not sure if you know what mermaids are, but they're basically fictional people who live underwater and have a fish tail instead of legs."

"Anyways, the story starts off with the lore of the Little Mermaid. She's the youngest daughter of the sea king with five other sisters, and the story starts off innocent and whimsical, detailing the world and life under the sea. Swimming with the fish, finding lost treasure, singing songs, things like that."

While talking, she took the shirt and walked over to the nearby boulder, placing it down to dry, and heading back to James's direction.

"A mermaid is only allowed to visit the surface once a year after they turn fifteen. When it's the Little Mermaid's fifteenth birthday, she swims to the surface and watches a celebration on a nearby ship. She realizes the celebration is for a young prince her age, and I guess, she fell in love just by looking at him. Unfortunately, a violent storm hits, and the ship sinks. But the Little Mermaid saves him from drowning and delivers him to the shore next to a temple. She waits for him to wake up, but the ladies of the temple were approaching, so she had to retreat back to the ocean. The prince woke up and didn't see her, or realize it was her who saved his life."

By this time, Evaline was sitting next to James with her knees out in front of her and her elbows propped on top. She tried not to give him any extra attention than what he felt comfortable with, and periodically looked around their surroundings.

"So, the Little Mermaid is back in the ocean, and she dreams of returning to the surface. She learns that humans live shorter lives and have an eternal soul, while mermaids live for hundreds of years and turn to sea foam when they pass. She longs for a soul and longs for the prince, so she visits a sea witch and asks for her help. The witch sells her a potion that would give her legs in exchange for her voice. She'd be able to walk, but not talk. She is also told that walking will be very painful, like each step feeling like she's stepping on knives. She is also told that she would be able to obtain her own soul if she wins over the heart of the prince and marries him. If she fails, then the dawn after his wedding with someone else, she will dissolve into sea foam.

She takes it, of course, and rushes to the surface to drink the potion. It hurts her to walk on the surface, but she does it anyways. She is later found by the prince who becomes mesmerized by her beauty, even though she couldn't talk. He also enjoys dancing with her, even though it secretly causes her great pain. They become very close companions."

Evaline decided to pause and recollect her thoughts here, glancing at James to gauge his interest and wondering if she should say the rest of the story. Her mind quickly went back and forth on what to do, and she also used this time to look around her, making sure that they were truly alone and safe.

James was trying to cling to every word, using each one as leverage to try to climb out of the pit his mind was slipping into.

He could feel it like a lingering familiar feeling. The cold of the night air, the crackling fire, and three pairs of dog’s eyes catching the light when they looked at him like hungry wolves, held back only by the fear of their master, Butch. Reed’s shadow, falling over him as a knife glinted in the moonlight, not as a warning, but a guarantee of what was to come.

James felt a shiver run down his spine and down to his fingertips, and he heard the words “mermaid.” Fish people with tails instead of legs.

With a stubborn persistence, he kept grabbing on to every other sentence, trying not to slip away again and again. It shouldn’t have had to have been so hard.

A mermaid. She saved a prince. Exchanged her tail and voice for legs. Fell in love. By the time Evaline came to a halt, James was afraid that the story was already over, and he had a feeling it wouldn’t have a happy ending. For some reason, that thought was all it took for the tears to finally push through his wall. When Evaline looked back at him, tears had started to stream steadily down his face.

He knew he wouldn’t be able to hide it, but keeping his eyes closed felt like the only amount of privacy he was able to give himself at the moment. So he didn’t see her reaction.

“What happens next?” he croaked.

Evaline's eyes softened as she saw James close his eyes and let the tears stream down her face. She looked at him for a moment, letting his sadness leak into her body, and suddenly she regretted picking this story at all.

It was a tragedy.

The prince didn't love her back. He only loved the person he thought saved him: the temple girl. He announces his love for the temple girl and the wedding happens immediately. Without a voice, the Little Mermaid is unable to tell him it was her who saved him, and she is heartbroken as she thinks about all she had sacrificed to get here.

On the day of the wedding, her sisters give her a knife that they obtained by trading with the sea witch. If the Little Mermaid kills the prince with the knife, she would return to being a mermaid, and she would no longer have to suffer. She could live the rest of her life with her family.

But the Little Mermaid couldn't bring herself to do that. Dawn came the next day, and she turned to sea foam.

But she couldn't just say that. Not when he was in this state.

Deciding to take a risk, she gently placed her hand over his, just in case he wanted something to hold on to. She remembered that he took her hand when he was drugged and confused while she was treating his infected wound, so maybe this would help him feel more grounded.

The moment her finger brushed up against his, James recoiled and pulled away, and Evaline regretted even trying, or at least, trying without asking. It was stupid of her to assume, especially when he was vulnerable.

"He eventually fell in love with her, of course," she said quickly instead, staring straight ahead and hurriedly placing her hands on her knees, trying to look calm and collected while pretending she didn't even try to touch him. The words sounded flat and seemed to hang in the air, but perhaps only because she knew they were a lie.

"They get married, and the Little Mermaid becomes human. She gets to keep her legs, and she gets a soul. The pain of walking went away and she slowly regains her voice. It's a happy ending."

Most stories did not end in happy endings. But sometimes, it was better to lie and convince others that happy endings existed, because they needed to feel some semblance of hope.

James barely even registered the almost-touch before his body ripped his hand away, but about halfway through the sudden movement he winced and froze, with his arm stuck at a 90 degree angle and his face twisted in pain. The movement didn't require his whole body, but he'd started to lean away, too, until the pain stopped him.

He opened his eyes and looked over at Evaline, who'd sat beside him, realizing it was only her, and his senses were just lying to him. Once he opened his eyes, the tears seemed to only come out with more persistence, and his vision of her became blurry.

She wasn't even looking at him. She was just focused on telling the end to the story.

He couldn't help but wonder if she'd lied and changed the story. But he didn't want to hear the sad ending if there was one.

He tried to blink away his tears, but it didn't work. They just kept coming. He took in a slow, measured breath as he relaxed his arm again.

He looked at Evaline's hands, resting on her knees. Slowly, he reached out and set his hand atop hers.

Evaline was wondering what she should say or do next in the brief moment of silence afterwards, but then she saw James's hand come into view, and he placed it on top of her hand. For a moment, she looked down and stared at his hand on hers, and it slowly dawned on her that maybe he did want her touch to feel grounded, but she just caught him off guard. Or maybe he felt bad. She didn't know. The sound of muffled sobs were enough to let her know that he was going through a mix of emotions right now.

Evaline slowly turned her palm around and interlaced her fingers, not daring to look at James. If he was anything like her when she was in a state like this, she wouldn't have wanted him to eye her while she showed weakness.

"You can let it out," she said softly, her brows lowered and pulled together in a sad furrow while she looked down at their hands with gentle eyes.

"I know you've been holding back pain, but you don't need to do that around me. It's okay."

James felt his chest starting to ache from pushing down the sobs he might have wanted to let out with Evaline's assurance.

"It hurts," he said, his voice cracking. "To cry."

Evaline did her best to appear calm, collected, unaffected. She didn't want this to be any harder for James than it needed to be. He only needed assurance right now.

She was probably the least qualified person to say the right words, but she was trying.

Evaline put her other hand on top of the one interlaced with hers, so that his hand would be gently sandwiched between hers. Still looking down at it, she gave him a small squeeze.

"It hurts to not cry, too, sometimes," she said softly.

James tightened his grip around Evaline's hand, just a little.

A sob worked its way up his throat and he stifled it into a whimper, and he sniffed. His ribes ached with a stabbing pain as he breathed in, and he hissed.

"I know," he said. "I only meant-- it literally hurts."

Evaline didn't know what to do. She felt like she had nothing to offer James. She couldn't heal him or take his pain away. What could she do?

Sure, she had been around people who were hurt like him before. Sometimes she helped patch up injuries if no one else was around to do it. But she never stayed with them.

She felt so useless right now.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, a lump forming in her throat. "I wish I can help with something."

"This is enough," he said, squeezing her hand a little tighter and sniffing again. The tears kept flowing, but he couldn't sob if he wanted to. It hurt too much.

"Just... give me a few more minutes."