A small slither of light cascaded through the thin gap in the white curtains, the direction of the light traveled towards the face of the young girl who slept soundly in her bed. Her dirty-blonde hair was knotted and sprawled out across her pillow, her lips parted as she breathed, her eyelids sealed closed. It had been a warm night, leaving her blankets shoved down the bottom of her bed and hanging to the floor, she had slept in her clothes that she wore the previous day at work. She had been too tired and worn out to change into more comfortable sleeping wear.

     She was a hard worker despite being thought of as lazy and unreliable because of her young age. She was only sixteen, and yet she managed to do a better job than most of the adults on the island—who, of course, lived lives full of rules and restrictions that seemed illogical most of the time, seeing as most of the time their plans backfired on them. But due to her age, once again, they refused to acknowledge her inputs because; 'What would a child know about this sort of thing?', 'What would you know? You aren't old enough.' And 'You aren't an adult and therefore can't think like one.'—Which was a load of shit.

     On the island she only got on with a few of the workers, she mostly got on with the dinosaurs—ones she knew wouldn't use her as a chew toy. She wasn't one to mingle or do shows for the crowds because she wasn't much of a people person, and if she was then it would probably be the start of the apocalypse. It wasn't like her to go to the staff rooms and eat lunch with the others, or swap numbers to chat or relax with her colleagues after hours because she felt out of place and unwanted around them, so the dinosaurs were the ones she turned to.

     Her room was bare, there was hardly anything inside. Her bedroom door was at the bottom left-hand corner of the room, opposite the door was a dark wooden wardrobe with the doors missing. On the right-hand side of the room underneath the large curtain covered window was a double bed, on the left-hand wall opposite the bed was a large cork board with pushpins and notes stuck to it. Considering the lack of decoration and items in the room it did look like a bomb site. Clothes were thrown across the wooden floor with one or two pair-less shoes.

     A smell of smoke wafted through the house and into the girl's bedroom, she had no reaction aside from groaning in annoyance once she realized there was light in her room shining on her face. She rolled over to the other side ready to fall back to sleep when she heard a chuckle in front of her. She lifted her head and groaned once again.

     "Good morning to you too, Mars-bar," the deep male voice spoke up, making her bury her head into her pillow.

     "No." She let out a groan which was muffled by her face being shoved in the pillow.

     "Mars? Is...That...Is it even comfortable to sleep like that?" The voice questioned unsurely. She lifted her head up and saw that she was laying sideways on her bed with her feet hanging off the side. "Did you not get dressed?" She shoved her head back down and grumbled as a response.

     "No."

     "Oh, right. I forgot, not much of a morning person are we, little one." The man ruffled her hair until she got up.

     "Okay, okay, Owen. I'm up! Stop being so happy." She glared at her brother, her hair now frizzed up, but he only grinned at her. "What did you burn?" She asked once she sat up on her bed.

     "I-" Owen turned his head slightly to the door with his thumb pointing towards it, but she continued.

     "What time is it?" She questioned. She couldn't check a clock as didn't have an alarm clock, she smashed it against the wall last month when it wouldn't turn off. It wasn't her fault, some technology were just faulty.

     "Uh, let's see...No, toast, and six in the morning." She rubbed her eyes and nodded to him.

     "We don't start for another hour, why are we getting up at six?" She asked him tiredly.

     "Claire asked me yesterday to get you up so I could 'drive you to the docks'," Owen told her, she made a confused sound, not knowing what that meant.

     Usually, the docks meant that there was either a new shipment of food that Claire needed Marlo to sign off on—mainly because any other employee would be sucked into a conversation about deals and other crap, whereas she would just sign and hold her finger up to silence them and walk away with the shipment leaving the men slightly confused and forced to turn back.

     A trouble with some maintenance that she could easily get to—being one of the smallest employees gave her the advantage of getting into smaller places.

     Or—on the ever so rare off chance—someone important to her was needed to be collected.

     "So, get a shower, get dressed and meet me outside. Oh, and Marlo-" She looked up to his retreating figure. "You look like death." He smiled at her causing her to smile sarcastically back, he closed her door leaving her in peace once more.

     "You look like death," she mimicked in a quiet high pitched voice before rolling her eyes at him.

     She rose from her bed and grabbed a towel from her wardrobe, the place where she had shoved everything and anything that she didn't need out, minus the dirty clothes on the floor. She took off her shoes and walked down the hallway to the bathroom. She turned the shower on and looked at herself in the mirror, she wished she didn't as the sight made her grimace.

     She had dark heavy bags under her hollowed out eyes from working so long, and her hair looked like a birds nest. She had not only mud and sweat on her face but dried blood from her split lip, she frowned at the sight in front of her, a bruise forming around her left eye. She gently grazed her fingers across it and winced. It wasn't a pretty sight, but it's what you get for working with moody dinosaurs and the ones locked in cages all day.

     She got into the shower and hissed as the hot water touched her skin, she managed to get most—if not all—of the dirt and grime from her skin, her hair was now no longer greasy, all-in-all she felt clean. She couldn't be bothered to eat breakfast, so she brushed her teeth and left to get changed in her room. She wrapped her hair in a smaller towel and threw on a blue long sleeved shirt with a flannel, with the sleeves bunched up to her elbows. Dark blue jeans and her brown lace-up boots. She dried her hair slightly and left it down. She grabbed a jumper and tied it around her waist before leaving.

     She moved her legs slowly as she walked through the hallway of the bungalow and to the front door. When she stepped outside, Owen was already sitting on his motorcycle with a complaining Claire nagging at him. Marlo walked down the steps heavily to let herself be known, clipping on her I.D badge to her flannel shirt pocket, Owen looked up and nodded to her which she returned. Claire turned to her and smiled forcefully after grimacing at her face.

     "Ah, Miss Grady. I was hoping to catch you here." Marlo pulled her head back slightly and closed her eyes waiting for Claire to realize how stupid that was. "Oh, right sorry. You live here with your brother." Marlo nodded to her, she was still on the last step looking at Claire.

     "That I do, Claire, that I do." Marlo stared at her. "And you're here because?" Marlo held her arms out waiting for an explanation.

     "Right! Okay, well, I was wondering if you would look after my nephews today? I would but I'm busy, so if you could just take them to their room I will then have Zara come collect them and you can get back to work." Marlo nodded slowly.

     "What the hell is wrong with Zara? Can't she get off her snobby ass and do it herself? How old are they? Are they able to walk and talk at the same time or am I going to babysit them for who knows how long?" Marlo questioned and that made Claire flustered, she was hoping to just get a 'yes' and it to be over and done with, but Marlo made it difficult for her.

     That was the relationship she had with Claire. Although Claire was technically the boss of her, she treated Marlo like a friend and sometimes a daughter. They would argue about things but they would also stick up for one another. Claire didn't treat her like a baby but as an employee which Marlo was grateful for, it meant that one person besides her brother on the island didn't see her as a waste of space.

     "First of all, Zara is doing a small job for me right now, so no, she's not on her snobby ass." Marlo raised her head with a wide smile and pointed to Claire.

     "I knew it." Marlo grinned.

     "Wait no, that's not what I meant, I didn't mean that-" It was too late, both Marlo and Owen were snickering. "Oh shush! Um, Zach, he's like high school age, like you." She held her hand out to Marlo's head and then lowered it. "Gray, he's a bit younger. So yes, they can walk and talk at the same time." Marlo groaned but agreed nonetheless making Claire smile.

     "I better get paid extra for the whole 'babysitting your nephews' thing, it wasn't on the job description." Claire handed her a tablet that had 'ZACH and GRAY MITCHELL' written on it. "Is this why you came here early?" Claire nodded. "So I'm getting paid extra right?" Marlo questioned.

     "You will," Claire reluctantly replied.

     "Promise?" She raised an eyebrow, glancing from the tablet to Claire.

     "Promise." Claire sighed while Marlo grinned and held her hand out, Claire huffed and shook it.

     "Is that all?"

     "No."

     "No?"

     "No." Claire shook her head. "Well, for you, yes. But as for your bother, I'll need to speak with him later." She glared at him slightly before walking off to her car and driving off. Marlo had a cat hissing sound and turned back to face Owen.

     "She needs to get laid." Owen laughed, he shook his head as he got on his bike and patted the seat behind him motioning for Marlo to get on so they could go to work early.

     "I couldn't agree more."

     "Do you have any idea what she wants to talk about?"

     "Not really...I mean, I guess I have a few ideas, but none that would really fit the tone of voice she just had."

     "Gross, O." Marlo curled her lip up and faked a gag while Owen laughed at her again, patting the back of the seat once more.

     "Get on or I'm driving without you."

     "You know, you need to get laid too, you have far too much pent up stress and anger." Marlo pointed out as she got on the bike she wrapped her arms around Owen's waist, she pulled a face of disgust. "You smell like motor oil." Owen sighed dramatically at her before she rested her head on his shoulder and he began to drive.