"Pat, pat."
The island weather changed in an instant; an hour ago, it was clear skies, but now it was drizzling. Fortunately, the roof, made of leaves, was quite sturdy, with only occasional drops of rain falling through tiny gaps.
A warm bonfire burned at her feet. Listening to the patter of rain accompanied by the crackling of the flames, Joyce felt utterly at peace. Back home, there were always endless farm chores and housework, and if anything went wrong, her father would beat her. Her mother, though heartbroken, dared not defy her father.
It was her first time being with someone her age, and he turned out to be a strange person.
The boy hugged his knees, his dull, lifeless eyes like stagnant water. No matter how large the pebble, it couldn't stir a single ripple. He always maintained that indifferent look, as if everything was unrelated to him, detached from the world. Joyce suddenly became curious, wondering what he would look like when he smiled.
"Hey, if we could go back, what would you want to do?"
Knowing he wouldn't answer, Joyce continued,
"Me? I want to be a fashion designer, make lots of beautiful clothes, and earn lots and lots of money. That way, Mom and my younger siblings can have a good life." When talking about her dreams, Joyce's brown eyes shone with a dazzling light. The boy seemed scalded by the burning warmth of that light and turned his head away.
For someone who wouldn't even have a future, someone who had exhausted everything just to survive, how could there be such an elusive and distant thing as a dream?
"You're ignoring me again!" Joyce pouted.
Watching the rain intensify, large drops splattering on the ground, she noted the many coconut trees nearby. They certainly couldn't reach the coconuts on the trees, and those on the ground were mostly rotten. She picked a few relatively intact ones, smashed them in half to serve as containers for rainwater, and now they didn't have to worry about drinking water.
It seemed everything was moving in a good direction.
"I hope the rain stops soon," Joyce lay down on the bed of weeds. She was a bit sleepy.
The boy added a few sticks to the fire, and the flames blazed up again.
Hmm, soon.
Two weeks, four days had passed.
...Joyce woke up from the cold. Rubbing her arms, she saw only embers burning in the nearby fire pit. She quickly threw in some dry wood and felt relieved when it rekindled.
She picked two appropriately sized potatoes and tossed them in. Soon, she would have a warm breakfast, Joyce thought. But why hadn't he woken up yet? He usually woke up before her.
Carefully approaching the boy, who was curled up, Joyce finally noticed the two flushed spots on his usually pale face. Tentatively, she placed her hand on his forehead, and Joyce gasped, "Ah!"
"What do I do? He has a fever."
At this moment, the boy had shed his usual indifferent demeanor, resembling a wounded cub, on the verge of death at any moment.
Was it due to the previous foot injury combined with the fever caused by the rainy weather? There was no way to treat him here. Joyce twisted her fingers, standing still, at a loss.
"I should boil some water first." She moved the coconut shell next to the fire, waiting for the water to boil. Hearing his labored breathing, Joyce couldn't help but feel anxious.
What to do?
That's right! When her younger sister had a fever before, her father refused to pay for a doctor. Her mother took her to the mountains to gather herbs and brought them back to treat her sister. Recalling the appearance of the plant, Joyce glanced at the still-falling rain and then rushed into the downpour.
Rainwater streamed down her forehead and into her eyes. She blinked uncomfortably, still trying to identify plants in the rain. The jungle was overgrown with weeds, making her dizzy, and her clothes were soaked.
She accidentally stepped on a slippery stone and fell, scraping her knee. She was actually very afraid of pain, but she would always endure it because crying wouldn't soften her abusive father's hand; it would only make him worse.
After searching for an unknown amount of time in the rain, she laboriously pushed aside a pile of weeds and saw a few familiar clusters of plants. Joyce smiled happily, gathering all of them.
Limping, she tried to hurry back. The sound of branches snapping came from not far away, and there seemed to be faint whimpering, but it was covered by the sound of the rain. Following the sound, she saw a familiar figure standing there.
It was An.
An stood in the rain, half his body hidden by the bushes. Joyce, whose vision was blurred by the rain, couldn't clearly see An's face. An spoke in a gentle voice,
"It's you! You seem to need help. Do you want me to help?" An still had that same bright smile as last time, offering help but remaining motionless.
Joyce, in a hurry to get back, didn't notice. She simply thanked him and replied,
"No, thank you for your concern. My friend is sick, and I need to get back quickly to take care of him."
"Is that so? We've caught many small animals, thanks to your fire. If you need anything, you can come find us. I can give you some meat broth; it's good for sick people." An seemed a little worried about the sick person.
Meat broth?
They actually caught animals? How impressive! But that other matter was more urgent.
"I'll come if I need to, thank you! I have to go now!" Joyce dragged her injured leg, quickly leaving the spot.
If she had walked a few more steps in An's direction, she might have noticed that he was stepping on someone's head. After watching Joyce leave, An slowly squatted down, turning the face of the person, who had been lying face down, upright. Looking at his terrified expression, An, with his innocent demeanor, curved a malicious smile and spoke in that same gentle voice,
"That was close; I almost got caught. I should have pulled out your tongue too. Just teeth aren't enough~"
He pulled out a sharp stone from his body, pried open the person's mouth, and pinched his tongue.
"It's okay, little lamb~"
"Mmm mmm~"
Seeing that the person had no more breath, An stood up, and the rain washed away the blood.
Now there were only 15 people left.
...It took a long time to return to the camp. The water had long since boiled. She carefully moved it aside to cool, then broke the herbs into pieces and ground them into a paste in an empty coconut shell with a stone. Prying open the boy's mouth, she squeezed the herb juice into his mouth. Perhaps it was too bitter, as he frowned. Joyce immediately brought over the hot water, feeding it to him sip by sip.
She made the fire burn more fiercely, hoping to warm him.
"You need to get better quickly."
Compared to his fragility, Joyce still preferred his indifferent look.
Between a fragile, beautiful glass ornament and a cloth doll stitched together bit by bit with needle and thread, Joyce would only choose the latter.