"Alright moron listen up. First your scenario is stupid. Why the fuck would I steal the sword when I could just take your gun? You really think I'm stupid enough to look over a gun for a sword? Second you wanted your only potential ally to throw away her sword? Great job at building trust you moron! Last well you need to work on that paranoia my friend..."
Ridley immediately let one hand go of his map and placed it on the but of his gun. The one he trusted the least was trying to make nice, and he wasn't about to trust her. "My paranoia stems from your bullshit and the fact the we're on this fucking island. You're the one who's strange. You aren't even scared, are you? Now get the hell away from me." But she was clearly insistent on something or another, that much was obvious. Once she placed her hand on his shoulder, his hand wrapped around the handle of the gun and squeezed tight, his index finger teasing the trigger.
"We need a way to fix that so let's work together on it alright?"
His eyes narrowed, and he looked her right in the eye and said, "Get the hell off of me, or I'll--" The sudden jab to his stomach surprised him, to say the least. It hurt like a motherfucker and there would probably be a bruise later, but he was able to keep his footing and the grip on his gun. He thanked God that he was only out of practice instead of completely out of shape, so his abs took the brunt of the hit. His lungs still emptied a lot, so he coughed several times as he dropped his map and swiped Michelle's hand off of his shoulder. He held onto the gun for all that he was worth, but did not draw it from his pocket.
With a jump away from Michelle, almost losing his footing on the sand, he clutched his stomach and shouted with all his might, "You BITCH! Don't you fucking DARE talk about paranoia and trust and suddenly hit me! I may not be good at these kinds of things, but who's the moron now, huh? As far as I'm concerned now, everyone is guilty until proven innocent, and boy
did you just step on a big-ass fucking
landmine." He felt a distinct sense of deja vu. Ridley had experienced this same scenario several times in the past few years. Someone would pretend to be nice, pretend that they want to talk. You hit it off with them, they seem like a friend, and then they gather all of their pals and beat the living shit out of you. "And in case you were wondering, I said nothing about you stealing my gun earlier because I told myself that I would NEVER let someone like you have something this dangerous. YOU GOT THAT?!"
His heart pounded against his chest as if trying to escape his rib cage, and his breathing had become deep and coarse.
He wanted to shoot her. More than anything, he wanted to shoot her. His trigger finger had just developed the biggest itch he had ever experienced in his whole life, and that arm had begun to shake and wouldn't stop unless he gave in to his urges. The face in front of him was a lion in sheep's clothing, just like everyone else who had made his school days a living hell ever since elementary school. "It's people like you who are always...!"
He stopped. The itch went away, and the shaking had ceased. If Raine hadn't popped into his head for the first time since he had arrived on the island, he really would have drawn that gun. The barrel was already halfway out of the folds of his pocket. Shit! How could I forget? What the fuck is wrong with me?
He shoved the gun back into his pocket and said to Michelle, "You need to start thinking about what the hell you're really doing on this island. If you do that again, you're fucking dead!" Leaving his map behind, he turned and began to run along the beach towards the south, where the map told him there weren't any cliffs to impede him in getting around the swamp.
((Ridley Landon, continued in Run From Your Troubles