I sat where indicated on the hard and cold white seat and pulled my hoodie up, securing it with my scarf and tucking some wayward strands of black hair away so I could see better in the wind. Then I pulled my backpack off my shoulders, and tucking my disconnected ear buds into my ears in an attempt to shut out the mistrust I could feel directed at me, I hugged the pack to my chest. I missed my phone, needed my music so badly right now.

Turning my head, I took in the lightening sky and the silver hue of the water. The marsh reeds of the Bull River that I always remembered as vivid green were brown and beige, casting a gloomy lens over my romantic memories of visiting down here. But then, I'd never been here in winter.

My blood felt thick and heavy in my veins. It was a large dose for my body weight. "How long does it usually take to get to the island," I asked Pete as he caught a final rope from his other passenger. Lion guy pushed the boat away from the jetty and leapt in the back with hardly a sound. Just like a cat.

"About twenty minutes normally, but around to Bloody Point, more like thirty."

Shit. I hoped I made it. But already I felt my eyelids getting heavy and my arms slipped slowly from around my pack. I gripped with my hands, looping the straps in my fingers. If I could just lay my forehead down on my bag. Just rest for a bit. The motion of the boat was so soothing.

I dreamed of my sister. I dreamed of Abby.

end.