Nanette sat down heavily on a felled log, blinking back tears as the tiny, insidious black text on the screen blurred before her.

Was Rosa telling her to kill herself? Nanette was upset, not suicidal. In a quiet, fearful corner of her soul, Rosa's words made sense...

But no. That wasn't what Nanette wanted. Not at all.

She tossed her phone to the side and buried her head in her hands, unable to stop the sob that welled up. She'd just wanted someone to talk to. Someone to listen. Was that too much to ask for?

"Nanette? Hey, Nanette?"

Nanette looked up. Owen Sullivan, drowning in his lime green puff coat and matching scarf, stood ten feet in front of her.

"Go away," Nanette said, her voice thick with emotion. She shivered violently.

Owen took another step closer, a branch cracking beneath him. "What's wrong?"

Nanette got unsteadily to her feet. "Get lost, Owen!"

She turned and began to walk further into the woods, crashing through pricker bushes that grabbed at her hair, her clothes, her face. Rosa's words whispered in her mind like a disease.

life is nothing but pain

keep your options open

She slipped and her foot got wedged between two rocks. She yanked her leg up, twisting her ankle in the process. The pain calmed her, a little. She had no idea how far she'd walked. A mile?

Owen Sullivan was wheezing as he trotted up beside her.

"You walk fast," he panted.

"Stop following me," Nanette said, though there wasn't much heat behind the words.

They stood like that for a minute, breathing heavily, listening to the weighty silence of the forest.

"You forgot your phone." Owen offered it to her.

Nanette eyed the device warily. "Hold onto it for me."

"Okay." Owen tucked the phone in his pocket, fumbling with the zipper through his thick gloves. "Saw you out the window," he explained. "I'm home sick today."

"Yeah, you look really sick."

He grinned and Nanette huffed, her breath a white cloud before her. It was starting to get dark. She crossed her arms, shivering.

"My house is right there," Owen said, gesturing. "Mom'll drive you home."