(Note: I wasn’t planning on writing in Khol’s perspective, but I didn’t realize that I was typing in her POV until later, when I was re-reading it. So…I guess here’s a short story told in her view? Hope it's not too badly told/written. I might come back and change it into third person later, though. I'll see.)
"Who took this?!" I yell out before turning around, eyeing McKenzie, one of my half siblings, suspiciously.
She holds up her hands and backs up, "It wasn't me."
I look at her for a few more seconds. Sighing, I slip the photo into my pockets and walk out of my cabin. On my way, I bump into a figure just a little taller than me.
"I'm sorry," I say, before checking who I collided into.
"No worries," a voice replies. "Are you alright? Seems like you're in a sort of hurry. What happened?"
I open my eyes--I don't remember shutting them--and recognize the person I ran into as Wyatt, a son of Tyche. His hair is dark blonde, or light brown. Not sure which. His eyes are blue, but sometimes they're green. So I guess this makes them hazel.
It isn't until he waves his hand in front of my face I realize I have not given him an answer yet. I clear my throat before answering, "I, uh, am looking for someone."
Mentally, I face-palm myself. I've been here for more than a while, and I still haven't gotten used to talking to people. Especially ones outside of my cabin, and, well, Bridget--but that's a different story.
"I can help, if you'd like."
I hesitate before saying anything. "Sure. I don't know how long it'll be until I find her though, so..."
He chuckles, "It's alright. It's not as if I have much to do anyways."
It was then I notice his bandaged arm. “You sure you want to?"
Wyatt tilts his head and shrugs lightly, “Yes, I’m sure.”
“Okay, but…"
“I’ll be fine. And besides, if it gets worse, Evelyn and Alexis will just say it's my own fault."
"Why would they say that?" I raise my eyebrows.
“Oh. Well..because I'm sort of supposed to be resting."
"Then you should be--"
He cuts me off by waving his hand at me, “I thought you were looking for someone?”
Putting my hands up, I sigh. “Yeah. Her name’s Bridget.”
“Now what do you need me for?”
I turn around and fold my arms when I see her. “Do you really need to ask that?”
She blinks and frowns at me, “Well, yeah. Isn’t that what people say when they have a question? Ask?”
“Wait,” now I’m the one frowning, “If you’re not the one who took it, then who did?”
“Took what?”
I take out the photo and shows it to her. “This!”
When I look back at her, she had a hand over her mouth, trying not to laugh. "Bridget. Not now.”
She puts her free hand up and tries to hide her face. As if I can’t tell she’s trying not to laugh. Shaking my head, I sigh. “Go ahead. Let it out.”
Bridge stops holding in her laughter and burst out laughing. Wyatt comes over and asks what was so funny. Bridget shows him the photo and a moment later, he joins her too.
“Guys! Please! I—“ I stop and chuckle as well. Their laughs must be contagious.
Bridget hands the photo back to me a few seconds later and says, “Have you asked your sister yet?”
I open my mouth to say something but then close it just before doing so. “You know, I have not.”
Just then, as if on cue, Cassidy passes by and when she sees us, she picks up her pace. That’s when I realize: it was her all along. “Cassidy!” I cry out, but not before she starts to run.
I grab Bridget’s hand and Wyatt’s arm before deciding to go after her. "This way."
"Khol--" Bridget starts.
"Yeah, I don't think--" Wyatt tries to say.
But I'm already running.
