I was jolted awake by Gabriel's ear-piercing scream, my heart racing with alarm. I sat up with a start, my mind foggy with sleep, and looked around frantically to see what was wrong. Gabriel's eyes were wide with terror, his face pale and trembling.
"What is it? What's wrong?" I asked him urgently, my voice shaking slightly.
Gabriel pointed a shaky finger at the parachute material that was covering us, and I followed his gaze to see what had caused his scream. My blood ran cold as I saw a giant centipede perched on top of the material, its yellow legs splayed out in a menacing pose.
Oh God, I thought, my mind racing with fear. Dad had told me about these centipedes, how dangerous they were, how their venom could cause excruciating pain and swelling. I remembered the way he had warned me to avoid them at all costs, to never touch them or try to handle them.
My heart was racing with fear, but I knew I had to stay calm for Gabriel's sake. I slowly reached out a hand and gently pulled the parachute material away from the centipede, trying not to make any sudden movements that might provoke it.
"Gabriel, stay still," I whispered, trying to keep my voice steady. "Don't move, okay?"
Gabriel nodded, his eyes fixed on the centipede in horror. I slowly got up, keeping a safe distance from the centipede, and pulled Gabriel to his feet. We backed away slowly, our eyes fixed on the centipede, until we were far enough away to turn and run.
We finally stopped to catch our breath, our chests heaving with exhaustion. We had run for what felt like hours, our legs aching and our stomachs growling with hunger. I looked over at Gabriel, his eyes sunken and his face pale, and felt a pang of guilt. I had promised him food, promised him that we would eat as soon as we woke up. But now, as we stood in the middle of the wilderness, I realized that I had made a promise I couldn't keep.
There was nothing around us, no signs of civilization, no trees bearing fruit, no animals to hunt. Just the dense, unforgiving jungle, stretching out in every direction. I felt a sense of desperation creeping in, my mind racing with thoughts of how we were going to survive.
Gabriel looked up at me, his eyes trusting, and I felt a surge of responsibility. I had to find a way to feed him, to keep him safe. But how? I looked around, my eyes scanning the horizon, but there was nothing. No answers, no solutions. Just the two of us, alone and adrift in the wilderness.
I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing thoughts. I knew I had to think clearly, to come up with a plan. But my mind was a blank, my thoughts consumed by the gnawing hunger in my belly and the fear that gripped my heart.
I looked down at Gabriel, and saw the same fear and uncertainty reflected back at me. He was counting on me, relying on me to keep him safe. And I had promised him food, promised him that we would be okay. But now, I wasn't so sure.
As we stood there, our hunger and thirst glaringly apparent, I suggested that we drink some water from the river to keep us fueled up for the meantime. Gabriel looked at me with a hint of understanding in his eyes, and for a moment, I thought I saw a glimmer of acceptance. He seemed to realize that our situation was dire, and that we had to make do with what we had.
To my surprise, he nodded in agreement, and together, we made our way to the river. The cool water was a welcome relief, and we drank greedily, feeling it coursing through our veins like a lifeline. As we drank, I couldn't help but notice that Gabriel hadn't asked about Mom in a while. It was as if he had finally begun to understand that we were truly alone in this wilderness, that it was just the two of us against the elements.
I watched him as he drank, his eyes fixed on the water, his face set in a determined expression. He was growing up, I realized, growing up too fast. The innocence and naivety of childhood were slowly giving way to the harsh realities of our situation, and it broke my heart to see it.
But I knew I had to be strong, for both of us. I had to be the rock that Gabriel could cling to, the one who would keep him safe and guide him through this treacherous terrain. And so, I steeled myself, pushed aside my own fears and doubts, and stood up, ready to face whatever lay ahead.
In an effort to boost Gabriel's morale and distract him from his hunger, I started splashing water on him, trying to entice him into a playful water fight. At first, I thought he might be too exhausted and hungry to join in, but to my surprise, he cracked a small smile and started splashing water back at me.
We stood there in the shallow water, laughing and splashing each other, our hunger and fatigue momentarily forgotten. The cool water was refreshing and invigorating, and we both let out whoops of joy as we played. I splashed water on Gabriel's face, and he giggled and splashed me back, his eyes sparkling with mirth.
We continued our water play, chasing each other around the riverbank, lapping up the water and splashing it at each other. Our laughter echoed through the forest, a carefree and joyful sound that seemed to wash away our worries and fears. For a brief moment, we forgot about our situation and just enjoyed the simple pleasure of playing together.
As we played, I could see the tension and stress melting away from Gabriel's face, replaced by a look of happiness and contentment. His eyes sparkled with joy, and his smile was wide and genuine. I felt a warmth in my heart, seeing my little brother so happy and carefree.
Eventually, we collapsed on the riverbank, exhausted and giggling, our clothes soaked through and our hair dripping with water. We lay there, side by side, watching the clouds drift lazily by, our bellies still growling with hunger, but our spirits lifted by our playful interlude.