This refuge the teenagers found themself upon was far from serene. The bark surface was uneven, coarse, and cracked upon any heavy moments. Most of the rain passed through the dying leaves above them, so it hardly sufficed as a shelter.
Vin crawled to the end of the branch that connected to the tree's torso. There, he rested his back against the trunk like a lousy headboard.
Comfort was the least of his worries.
The moment Vin sat, he'd begun to drift from consciousness. His body listlessly slouched against the tree's broad stalk, holding his wounded head. It did little to lessen the bleeding, enabling beads of boiling blood to flee his aching cranium.
Vin's skin progressively drained of color, leaving him ghoulish. His heartbeat was so feeble that his chest no longer pulsated, nor was he mobile enough to squeal in grief.
After arriving there, Lynn took time to catch her breath but turned her attention to Vin. Seeing him nearly motionless, her emerald eyes fluttered open. She swallowed a lump of dread, then shakily whispered his name, "Gavin?"
Her voice was quiet, hardly audible, and vacant of all hope. She waited for a sign—not a word, but a breath, a heartbeat, any sign to reassure herself that the worst had yet to come.
Nothing.
Lynn scooched closer, mindful not to upset the branch that supported them both. Close enough to reach out and touch his shivery face.
That area was as humid as a coastal island, but Vin's skin was cold to the touch. What remained of Lynn's composure shattered like a vase; what started as a delicate touch became a rude rocking of his limp body.
"Gavin!" She repeated with more strain.
"Com'on, wake up, Gavin." She rattled him, and his hand limped to his side in response. He was truly stagnant.
They weren't friends. In fact, he'd been cruel to the girl, but she was pained. Her eyes welled, obscuring her vision upon realizing she'd been becoming a helpless witness to death.
"You have to wake up!" She urged, shaking the boy. His body was too fluid; she couldn't bear seeing him that way. He was strong. Every time she'd seen him, he was so skilled, nearly superhuman. So, how could it be that he bled? That his life faded as it did?
It didn't make sense.
Lynn knew something had to be done and did what came to mind. First, she quickly pulled off Vin's drenched outerwear and wrung it before tightly tying the sleeves around his head like a bandage.
The rot in Vin's body launched more cruel transgressions against his condition. She was unaware of the extent of his internal affliction, so she concentrated on what she could control.
Acting instead of thinking allowed slightly more clarity. After wrapping his head, Lynn wiped her face of the rain that befell them and tried to calm herself. Aside from Vin's injuries, he was cold and soaked.
Lynn tucked Vin's legs together and carefully pulled his body down so he lay flat on the edge of the branch. After making sure his makeshift bandage didn't come loose, she removed her own jacket as well, leaving her with a plain teal-colored tee. The girl wrung her coat of water, then crammed next to Vin on the narrow branch.
Lynn wrapped her free arms tightly around his body to warm him, and since they were so close, she could use her hoodie to blanket both of their bodies. Most of Vin's lower half was caught in the rain, but her jacket was only so big. At the very least, she wanted to protect his upper body from the constant downpour.
Was it enough? She didn't know, but it was what she could do.
So, they remained there.
Every few minutes, Lynn wrung the cloth of water and then hung it over them again, trying to stay as dry as possible. This whole endeavor felt like a lifetime, but only minutes had passed since crossing the lesser bridge. Lynn couldn't tell; she was far too physically exhausted from carrying Vin and too mentally taxed from preserving him from death.
The sticky, humid air and melodyless pitter of rain hitting leaves and water were dreary. Lynn, still pressed against Vin, fluttered heavy eyes. Her body resigned, and her damp head slowly rested against the cold person beneath her.
Sleep, ever so compelling, courted the girl. She deserved to be released from the woes consciousness more than anyone. And so, her eyes fastened.
Sight cut; only the sound of the downpour remained and tied her to the world. Soon, even that became unperceivable, and she joined him in a territory beyond that terrible swamp.
Who knew what she dreamed of. Perhaps it was a nightmare, or maybe she didn't experience anything at all in her sleep. Nevertheless, it was a temporary armistice for the girl.
Vin had an active imagination. He dreamed most nights, even if he didn't always remember them. Even so, he'd never had a lucid dream.
Maybe it was because of how strained his body was, but that day, he had an extraordinarily vivid dream while at the mercy of his sickness.
In that dream, the sun hung high in the sky. He was alone on his skateboard in the beautiful, brightly colored garden. He was skating on the sidewalk and could nearly feel the wheels slowly rolling beneath his feet, smell the sweet, fragrant flower collection, and enjoy a cool breeze. It was a moment he wanted to last forever, and oddly, it did.
He thought dreams were supposed to advance fast, yet as Vin skated toward a wedded pair of white daisies, he realized he wasn't getting any closer. The distance of one action in his sleep felt like hours, and maybe hours would turn into days of serenity.
A feeling of guilt and fear lingered at the back of his mind. He knew he shouldn't have been there and worried about what awaited him when it ended. Still, he didn't pry for details; he just allowed himself to be swept away by the comfort.
It was the first dream he'd had that spanned mere seconds. Usually, he'd dream of a hogposh of one or many random scenes, like winning a gold medal at the Olympics or eating a pool-sized bowl of lasagna.
Blink after blink, he happily enjoyed peace in that majestic garden. Then, one moment, out of nowhere, he felt the scape dissolve. Strangely, he knew it was over, and it was time to say goodbye.