That damn cat loves me. She's been laying by my feet, literally as I drive. She just needs, yearns to be by me, almost. Two weeks on the boat and she's decided I'm her favorite.

"And here I thought the cat liked Karla most," says Archer, who had been looking for her, the cat.

"I guess it's me. I don't know. I've always wanted a cat," I say.

I really have. But as soon as the accident happened, I forced myself to grow up and take care of myself, because I couldn't afford the family house even with my inheritance and my crappy part-time job. I had to sell it.

Did it break my damn heart into tiny pieces? Yes. Because it was like a slap in the face knowing I'd never possibly be able to soak in my sisters' laughs, my mom's horrible cooking, the sound the garage made when my dad was home. The music in the living room as Kelly and Bella danced around.

But I did it, and I got myself an apartment. Damn nice for what I thought I had, and it would do, since I didn't have anyone to worry about but me. And my food never burnt. Take that, Mom.

So in a way, the cat is kind of reminding me that I do, in fact, have people again. And it's not dangerous to think about this, cause Archer demanded I switch out with him. He's been driving a lot more. Kinda makes my mind wander.

"Hey," says a voice next to me.

Karla? They never come out of their room. They're kinda afraid of people. Plus, it's like 12 am. Why are they still up? The only reason I was up was because I was driving-

And then I hear a gagging noise off the boat.

"ARCHER," I yelp, running up to him.

"It just happens, I get seasick," he explains.

"Why are you driving?! Karla, can you drive," I ask.

They nod briefly.

"Good. Do it. Archer, sit down or you're going to give me a heart attack."

"Why are you so worried."

"Don't ask me that question unless you want me trauma dumping."

"Got it," Archer mutters while I dig through my bag for some nausea medicine. I find some, and hand it to Archer.

"Take some."

He does—I watch, because most people just throw it off the side of the boat when I leave. But he swallows it, which shocks me. Was he really as honest as people said he was? I didn't know him too well, so I wasn't sure.

"You have to sleep," I instruct, "on your side. If you sleep face up, you could choke on your barf if it happens again, and if you sleep face down and you do throw up, you could potentially drown in it. The side is safest."

"Okay.. thank you, Mae."

I'm taken aback at this—it was my job to help, wasn't it? Why was anyone thanking me for simply doing my job?

I'm honestly handling my situation better than they, on the boat, are handling handling their situations, but I know it's not fair because we all have different ones and a lot of us have different forms of grief.

And a lot of people are new to being alone. But me? I've been alone since I was 16, and it's almost my 19th birthday. And it's Arch's 20th.

That feels so weird. He doesn't look 20. I can't imagine he feels 20. Because his dad taught him to grow up, so he decided to try and just be a kid instead. In his mind, he's maybe about 14, 15. Maybe sixteen.

So I'll let him be his age. The age he wants to be. I'm not going to tell him he's childish, because he's not. He's just coping in a smart way. I could never be better than him.

In a way, he's my role model, but I confine myself to being just like my role models. That is one thing unhealthy about me. It used to be healthy, when I wanted to be just like my family members.

Kel and Bel were bright and beautiful, radiant and always talked to you. They were like mini Archers, if Archer watched Mean Girls every day and had fashion shows after the mall, and if he danced and sang in the middle of the living room to any popular, fitting song.

If he were two people, identical twins, who always got mad they weren't the same person and people could, in fact, tell them apart, that's how I'd describe my sisters.

And I'll always miss just how bad they were at dancing and singing.

Our house used to be filled with laughter, now all it was filled with was sadness and ghosts.

But now, that I'm on this boat, it's my new house. and it's filled with laughter again. I'm doing better than I ever was on here.

I've got a little myself. A Hunter. I don't know why she idolizes me so much. But considering I can talk to her and understand what she's saying right back, I get why she wants to be near me most. But idolizing me, when I'm just a person like anyone else?

And lately, I've been realizing Hunter falls into confidence just like everyone else here. She's been vocally responding to me, in conversations. It's only one or two words, but I'll cry every time she does, I'll smile every time she does because I never want her to stop. She's started borrowing my shorter sleeved shirts. They were still pretty modest and didn't show much, but she felt safe.

For some reason, I feel like I've completed a life goal when I think about Hunter being safe and sound on here.

"Mae?"

I turn my head to Archer, who've I've been sitting cautiously sitting next to on the floor. Nobody else is up anymore. He even got up to drive.

"Yeah," I ask.

"Thanks for watching over me. Nobody's ever really done that for me before..? I guess, my dad was too rigid to care about that stuff, and my mom didn't really care to be in my life."

"Oh.. Well, it's my job, Archer," I say.

Everyone has a story. So I never judge anyone. How Archer has an issue processing emotional care. How Hunter doesn't trust the world enough with her voice. How Vea was in a cult. How Vaeria stumbles down on the boat, and tries to get up without frowning, and fails. How Karla gets anxious over everything.

Because we all have our own stories. In the end, we get to the same place, but I like to think of life as an adventure. There's highs, lows, ups, downs, and we're all given different maps to the same place.

Some maps have shorter paths than others. Some maps have long paths, but they're still all journeys.

My sisters had short paths. My parents had short paths. I hope to have a long path. I don't ever want to join them until I know I'm ready. I want to die when I'm old. When I'm surrounded by love and family. Maybe grandkids. Who the hell knows? I just want to live a long happy life.

I eventually make the trudge to my room, hoping I can trust that Archer will be okay on his own. Or that he'll get me if he isn't.

I open the door, and Hunter's already in there, sleeping. Well now I can't sleep. Because I don't ever want to ruin that, and I don't know if she trusts people being so close to her while she sleeps.

But something inside me, probably my sleep delusions from this happening the past two days, as well, yells at me to go to sleep. So I finally climb in, and sleep practically biting the damn wall. I don't want to be near her if she's uncomfortable.

This isn't awake.

Kelly, Bella, Dad and Mom all are going Back-To-School shopping, I don't go. I was at camp. I was the musically talented one, and Kel and Bel were the more organized ones.

Mom was sick, but she was insistent on driving, and they made it there just fine.

It was Back that was the problem. Mom couldn't see, barely, she had horrible vision from it, and she went the wrong way on a one-way and ran headfirst straight into another car.

They were all dead on impact.

Except for Kelly.

And then someone takes her, and then the ambulance crashes, wait, no, this isn't how it went, and Kelly-

"MAE! MAE!" someone yells, instantly waking me up. The someone had been shaking me.

"What...?"

"You were screaming! Yelling! Are you okay," asks Karla, Hunter in tow, with the most concerned look I've ever seen on the girl's face.

"Hey! Hey hey. Just a nightmare. I'm fine. I'm fine with y'all."

I look down at my hands and realize Hunter's holding one of them, and I frown. How long has she been touching me? She hates physical touch. But the fact that she didn't let me be alone is... comforting.

So I hug Karla and Hunter, forgetting that Hunter wasn't very comfortable with it.

"I'm okay now," I say, "You guys saved me."

A/N: OKAY, I KNOW YOU'RE NOT USED TO HEARING FROM ME-

This was totally supposed to release the 17th of July, Archer's actual birthday. As you can see, it is NOT the 17th of July, so apologies for that-

But anyways! I want you guys to vote on the next chapter's POV! Should I do it in:

Karla's POV?

Vea's POV?

A back and forth of both POVs?

Let me know what y'all think!