That was all Finn could remember when he woke up.

Those words said by Shaun. Finn didn’t know what happened between then and now. How could he? All he knew was he had been in pain, Shaun ran off for help and then he blacked out. That was it.

He woke up lying on the ground by the opening of the tent on his back looking up to the morning sky. His entire body ached in ways it never had before. His limbs felt as if they had been pulled and yanked out of their sockets, his back felt as if it had been scrunched up like a paper ball, his head was hammering against his skull. All kinds of things. It just hurt. It hurt so bad that the pain from the rabid dog bites felt like pinpricks.

He knew he had to get up. He had to get up to get help.

“Shaun?” He croaked out.

No answer. Where had he gone?

“Shaun? Are you sleeping?” He asked, voice slowly returning to normal as he turned his head to look into the tent. Shaun wasn’t in it.

Finn struggled to stand. He managed it eventually but the pain was causing him to see white and feel faint. He fell to his knees again and decided to crawl. It hurt but a little less than standing. He didn’t think he would even have been able to take a step.

“Shaun?” The tent was empty, so he must have ran off for help then. But how long ago was that now? It was bright now. Earlier than usual, yes, but still morning. He wouldn’t have gone off on a walk and left Finn by himself when he was hurt. He knew that much.

He kept looking around until he finally found footprints in the mud which he could follow. He crawled along them carefully and agonisingly slowly. Eventually he made it to the end of them but no Shaun. Instead there was a long line as if something had been dragged a distance. Finn looked to the end of the line. There was something lying there.

No.

Finn dragged himself over as quickly as he could. He slipped a couple of times but picked himself up again. He had to make sure it wasn’t true.

It was.

Shaun lay face down at the end of the trail.

“Shaun? Get up.” Finn said slowly. It must be a joke. Shaun always did tell such dark jokes. “You got me. Now get up.” He laughed.

Shaun didn’t move. Not even a laugh.

“I get it. You want me to make you wake up? Alright, I’ll play along.” Finn pulled himself up onto his knees and placed his hands on Shaun’s shoulder before gently turning him over. He soon wished he hadn’t.

Shaun's entire face was destroyed. It was cut up beyond recognition. It was practically a gaping hole. His neck was bleeding as well. It looked as if something had stabbed it ten or so times all at once. But not with a knife. With massive teeth. His chest seemed to be a gaping hole as well but he could hardly tell with the mess of blood and organs laying on it. His arms and legs were strewn about wildly, bruised and cut up and even close to coming off in his left arm.

Finn screamed.

“Help! Someone please help!” He screamed at the top of his lungs, voice cracking in desperation. Somehow in his panic he had forgotten that his dad was in the campground nearby. He felt like he couldn’t leave Shaun. That would be the ultimate betrayal.

Eventually some people did come over. A young married couple followed by their toddlers ran over to help.

“Do you have kids with you?” Finn asked when he heard them coming.

“Yes.” The man responded unsurely.

“Don’t let them see this.” He said darkly. He had had an hour or so between now and finding Shaun and had become quickly numb. He could feel it later, now he had to get Shaun out of here.

“Okay.” The man responded again and turned to his wife with a nod. Then he came over alone and stopped in his tracks. There were two boys, one almost faceless on the ground, the other tear-tracks all down his face clutching the dead one tightly. “What happened?” The man was calm under pressure.

“I don’t know.” Finn said gruffly. “I passed out last night and he was dead when I woke up.”

“I’m going to call someone okay? The police. Do you need an ambulance?” He asked, studying the boy in front of him carefully.

“I need to call my mum.” He said. “And get my dad, he’s in the campground.”

“Alright. Give me the number and I’ll call for you. I’ll get your dad as well.”

“Okay.” Finn did as he was told.

The man ran off, explaining the situation to his wife when he passed by her. She was horrified and longed to comfort the boy in the trees but stayed far away. She had to look after her own children first and a faceless dead boy would not be great for them.

The man returned half an hour later with the paramedics, a detective, and his father.

“Finn!” Michael exclaimed when he reached his son. He immediately hugged him close. “What happened?”

“Yes, what happened son?” The detective asked as he held his notebook ready.

“I passed out, woke up, and he was dead.” Finn said slowly. It was becoming overwhelming fast and he could feel his eyes tearing up.

“Dead?” Michael gasped. He held Finn closer.

“I need to get him to the hospital, you can talk to him there.” A paramedic woman said to the detective.

“I’ll talk to him in the ambulance.” Detective nodded.

“Alright. Is that okay honey?” The paramedic asked softly.

Suddenly the tears spilled out of his eyes. It wasn’t asked if he was okay but it was close enough. He wanted his mum. He wanted Sandra. He wanted Shaun. Shaun was gone though. He would never be there for him again.

“Yeah. That’s fine.” He said quietly. The paramedic patted his back sympathetically before helping him into the ambulance.

The ride to the hospital sucked. The detective had a lot of questions and was keen to ask them all. His dad tried to help him out by asking the detective to give him a break but it was not working at all.

“And you said you blacked out?”

“Yes, sir. I was injured recently and I must have passed out from the pain.”

“Injured?”

“Yes, sir. He was attacked-” Michael tried to answer, to give Finn a break.

“I’m sorry, Mr Lowry. But I asked your son.” The detective said with a steely glare.

“Sorry, sir.” Michael gritted his teeth.

“Yes, sir. I’ll show you the scars. It was a dog. Rabies.”

“No, that’s alright. Helen here will show me your injuries at the hospital. Do you remember anything weird happening last night? Any strange noises?” He motioned to the paramedic who was apparently called Helen.

“No, sir. It was just like every other time we went camping.”

“Alright. And do you remember any feeling? Anything touching you?”

“Yes, sir.” Finn surprised himself. He did remember something touching him but he hadn’t thought about it. Hands. He remembered hands holding him while he was passed out. He didn’t know why though. He had assumed Shaun was trying to wake him up. “Hands were touching me at some point. I don’t know who or why.”

And there were still more questions after that. The only break he got was when his mum eventually arrived with Sandra and Shaun's dad, Barry.

“Where is my boy?” Grace demanded as she entered the ward.

“And mine, Shaun Woods?” Sandra asked, eyes teary.

“Mrs Lowry, your son is in room C with your husband. Please come with me, Mr and Mrs Woods. ” A doctor said.

A mournful gasp escaped Sandra’s throat. It wasn’t particularly loud but it was heard by all.

“Finn!” Grace sobbed as she entered the room.

“Mum!” Finn cried.

“What happened? Why weren’t you with them?” Grace cried and shoved her husband backwards.

Michael stumbled but quickly corrected himself, his wife wasn’t very strong. “I stepped away for a while to let them hangout without an adult listening in-” He began to explain.

“And look what happened!” She argued back. “Our son is injured and I don’t even know what happened to Shaun!”

The boys went quiet.

“I wasn’t badly injured. Scrapes and scratches.” Finn spoke up, though quietly and carefully. “Shaun… He…” His voice broke into sobs.

“Oh Finn!” Grace cried, forgetting her argument with her husband momentarily. “What happened?”

“He’s dead.” He stuttered through his tears. Michael clenched his fists to stop the tears from coming out, Grace gasped.

“What?” She reeled back. “Dead?”

“He was killed. He… His face. Mum, he didn't have a face.” He said slowly and carefully, as if vomit could come out instead of his words. Grace looked to Michael for confirmation, he gave one simple nod.

“Oh my God!” Grace exclaimed as she stumbled backwards into a chair.

Then no one knew what to say. They could hear Sandra scream from a few rooms over. They heard her weeping when the door slammed open. They heard her storming closer. They saw her when she walked in.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

She was the picture of pity. Her hair was loose and wild, she hadn’t taken the time to brush it. She wore her old faded pink pyjamas, she hadn’t taken time to get changed. Her eyes were wide and her face wet. She threw herself down at Finn’s bedside.

“Tell me Finn, please!” She begged. “You have to tell me he wasn’t hurt. He didn’t suffer? Oh God please don’t tell me he suffered!”

Finn couldn’t bring himself to lie to her.

“I’m sorry.”

It was as if she expected this answer. She silently sobbed to herself as she rocked back and forth on her heels.

“Shaun… Why him? He was just camping. He never did anything wrong…”

“Sandy. I’m so sorry.” Grace put her arms around her breaking friend. Sandra threw her arms around Grace and it seemed as if she would never let go. She didn’t want to let go.

The stay at the hospital was short and uncomfortable. Every day at one in the afternoon a psychologist walked into the room and wanted to ‘talk’. The doctors had assumed that Finn was traumatised from what he had seen, and he was. But it was too soon to talk about it. Especially to a stranger who wouldn’t understand.

He told her this one day. That she wouldn’t understand. She just smiled.

“I might understand more than you know, Finn.” It seemed that she only doled out cryptic sentences. Her name was Miss Lollin, she was twenty-five years old, and had bright ginger hair that she wore in a loose bun on the top of her head. She wore strange clothes as well, bright rainbow coloured jumpers seemed to be her specialty.

“You don’t though.” Finn argued back. “My best friend just died. How the hell could you understand that?”

“I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “I don’t.”

“Exactly.” Finn grunted. “Don’t pretend you do.”

She gave him a face that let him know that she was pitying him. It was so patronising that he wanted to hit her. Each time she left he would celebrate.

Eventually he was allowed to go back home. Miss Lollin came to see him off, much to his dismay. She wore a bright pink jumper with a white pleated skirt this time. The joy on her face at the idea of him leaving was mutual.

“I’m happy for you Finn.” She smiled. “Remember you can talk to me anytime you need to. Your mum has my number, just ask her for it when you need it.”

Finn nodded despite having no plans to use that number. Infact; he might rip up the page it was written on.

When the Lowry family were back home, no one really knew what to do the rest of the week. It was almost Finn’s birthday but no one mentioned it. No one wanted to celebrate anything. Finn spent most of his time in his room, specifically lying in bed. Sometimes he would cry, sometimes he would yell, sometimes he would just lie there and think. It was hell. He couldn’t do anything.

“Finn, what do you want for breakfast kiddo?” Michael asked through the heavy wooden door one morning.

“I don’t know.” Finn groaned barely above a mumble.

“You haven’t been eating much lately. I understand everything is hard for you but you need to eat. I’ll make some toast and you try to eat some of it, okay? Does that sound like a plan?”

“Yeah. Thanks dad.” Finn’s voice cracked. He felt bad that he wasn’t just getting up and doing everything himself. He hated how difficult it was for him. He had had time to mourn. He should be over it by now. He didn’t understand why he wasn’t.

Michael returned a couple of minutes later with a plate and a mug. The plate held toast and a banana, the cup held tea.

“I made some tea as well.” Michael said as he set the items down on his nightstand.

“Thank you.” He smiled slightly as he picked up the cup. He didn’t take a drink but held it close.

“Do you want me to stay or leave?” His dad asked gently.

“I don’t know.” He really didn’t. He wanted his dad to stay. He didn’t want to be alone anymore. He needed someone. But he also didn’t. He wanted to be alone with his thoughts. His best friend had just died. Neither of them had thought that it would ever happen. Even when they were going to be old men. But it happened. So much sooner than it should have.

It was all awful.

They got a letter in the mail from Sandra and Barry yesterday. Shaun’s funeral was going to be on Sunday.

“Are you scared about the funeral tomorrow?” Michael asked.

“Yes.” Finn admitted. He hadn’t let himself think it but he was. He didn’t want to see Sandra in that state again. He didn’t want to see the coffin and know that Shaun was in there. He didn’t even want the funeral to happen. It meant that Shaun was well and truly gone. It’s finality hurt.

“Do you want to go?”

“I have to.”

“Do you feel like you owe it to him?”

“I do owe it to him.”

“Why?”

“He’s my best friend. I couldn’t protect him. It’s my fault.”

“It isn’t your fault Finn.” Michael told him as he sat down beside his son, who sat with his legs folded up to his chest.

“But I couldn’t save him.”

“That isn’t your fault Finn. We don’t even know what happened. It’s okay to feel guilt but it isn’t your fault.” It was the exact same thing that Miss Lollin had been saying but for some reason it made more sense when his dad said it. Felt more real.

“Why would he die dad? He didn’t do anything.” He repeated Sandras question that had been playing in his mind.

“I don’t know. That’s how things are sometimes, life can be cruel for no reason. He was a good kid.” Michael was close to tears. He had cared for the kid as well. He had felt like he was the boy's dad sometimes.

“He was.” Finn teared up at the past tense.

“I’ll leave you now. You know where to find me if you need me.”

“Thanks dad.”

“I’m sorry.”

Sunday afternoon was cold for a June day. The church was pretty. Its windows were gorgeous, beautiful rainbows decorating the entire building. It was a harsh contrast to the people dressed in dull blacks and greys.

Sandra’s wild hair had been tamed and twisted into a ponytail low at her neck. She wore no makeup and no hat, just a plain black dress and boots. A far cry from her usual bright and childlike appearance.

Finn twisted his hands together as he went up the stairs to enter the building. His father and mother walked either side of him giving him silent support each step of the way.

The service itself was terrible. The man speaking knew nothing about Shaun. Every word he said was wrong. It took everything Finn had to not stand up and yell at him. How could he stand there and spout rubbish about his friend? Shaun had been nothing like the guy being described. He had been kind and funny and nice and hurt and he had been incredible and he had been more than words could say. How could the man hope to sum him up in only a few paragraphs? How dare he try?

“How are you feeling?” Grace asked when they were outside again.

“That man had no idea what he was talking about.” Finn said.

“Yeah.” Michael nodded. “Do you want to see the coffin lowered?

“Michael, that’s very morbid.” Grace tried to say.

“Yes.” Finn said quickly. Of course he wanted to. He had to see it for himself.

It wasn’t anything special to look at. Just a box being buried. But it hurt. Finn found himself sobbing silently as he watched it. That stupid man from before still had more to say. It was still rubbish. Finn couldn’t even bring himself to glare at the guy. He wanted to but he didn’t care that much. He focused on Shaun.

Shaun wouldn’t have wanted to be buried. Finn knew that. Shaun was scared of tight spaces. He wouldn’t have wanted to be put in an urn then either. He wouldn’t have wanted to be dead. Or maybe he did. Maybe this was what he wanted. Who knew? Finn didn’t. He started to laugh. It suddenly seemed funny. He only went camping because Shaun wanted to. He didn’t really want to, his injuries hurt too much. He had been asleep when Shaun died. He died alone. No one knew what happened. No one ever would.

“Finn.” His mum whisper-hissed.

Finn didn’t care. He kept laughing. While he laughed he sobbed. It was certainly a sight to see. He didn’t even notice the reactions of those surrounding him. A few elderly women were tutting and scowling at him, Shauns cousins were looking at him in shock and horror, Barry was looking at him with unbridled rage, Sandra was nodding.

“I’ll take him away for a minute.” Michael quietly told everyone as he carefully steered Finn away from the group by his shoulders.

They quietly and quickly walked back to the car, the only noise between them being Finn’s continued laughter. Michael had his hands on his son's shoulders leading the way. He feared that if he let go, Finn might fall.

“What’s funny?” Michael asked when he had got his son safely sitting in the car.

“I don’t know.” He laughed. “Everything.”

“What do you mean?”

“I only went camping because he wanted to. I didn’t want to. If I had stayed home like I wanted he would be alive.” He laughed again.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. It’s hilarious, right?”

Michael patted his sons back for a minute letting him calm himself down. When he reached a state that could be spoken to, Michael started to speak again.

“Do you want to go back over or do you want to go home?”

Finn thought. He didn’t want to leave Shaun. There would be nothing to do at home anyway, just lying in his bed again. But that sounded good. It was what he wanted. He wanted to bury himself in his covers and never emerge again. Shaun wouldn’t have minded. He probably would have done the same thing.

“I want to go home.” He said quietly.

“Okay. I’ll go get your mum. Stay here.” Michael nodded as he got out of the car.

He was right. All there was to do was to lie in his bed in the dark. He was bored of it. Nothing else seemed appealing though. He didn’t want to leave the house. He didn’t want to read. He didn’t want to draw. He just wanted to sleep.

“Finn, honey?” His mum knocked on his door around three.

“Yeah?” He called.

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah.”

She came in slowly, as if she was trying to get a wild cat to follow her.

“Finn, do you want to watch some tv with me? Something to do might make you feel a bit better.”

Finn sat up.

“What will we watch?”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay.” He got up. Maybe he should spend some time with his mum. The bed wouldn't leave. It would be there later. Maybe it’s what Shaun would have wanted for him. He would have got mad if he knew Finn stayed in bed, no matter how Finn tried to comfort himself.

His birthday arrived quicker than anyone wanted it to. It being the day after the funeral was just unfair and cruel. The universe knew what it was doing with that hit. It was just another reminder of what was gone. Just the year before he and Shaun had been messing in the waterpark together. They wouldn’t be able to do that this year.

“Finn, honey, good morning.” Grace smiled when her son came downstairs. She knew that today would be hard for him but the fact he was out of bed was good. He hadn’t been doing that lately.

“Good morning mum.” He gave a small smile and went to the cereal cupboard.

“How are you feeling today?” She asked nervously, not that she showed it.

“I feel okay.” He poured his cereal. “I miss him.”

“I know sweetheart.” She pulled him into a hug. “Do you think you want to celebrate your birthday or not? It’s up to you. Whatever you think.”

“Not really.” He said.

“Okay. If you're sure.” She hid the tones of disappointment.

“Thanks mum.”

Finn went back upstairs and ate his cereal looking out the window. He always loved the view from the window, it was pretty. It showed his back garden which had his slide and swing set from when he was younger, the beach chairs that his mum always put out for a bit of sun tanning, and it had the trees around its edges shading them in from the rest of the world.

He opened his door to go back downstairs to drop off his bowl when he tripped on a small pile of boxes. There were five cardboard boxes of all sizes littering his doorway.

“Presents.” He thought. “She did want to celebrate then.”

He set his bowl back down on his desk and transported the boxes into his room one by one onto his bed. He didn’t open them though, he instead picked up his bowl and went back downstairs.

“Hey Finn.” His dad grinned when he saw him.

“Hi dad.” Finn gave the same smile he gave his mother earlier.

“Did you get your presents?” He asked eagerly.

“Thank you. I haven’t opened them yet. I’ll do it when I get back up.” He set his bowl down.

“Okay.” His dad smiled softly. “Have fun.”

“Thanks.” He could think of nothing else to say.

He didn’t really want presents. It just reminded him that he would never exchange gifts with Shaun ever again. He did open them though. He wanted to please his parents and knew that if he didn’t open them they would worry about him. It was a wonder they weren’t already worried. Maybe they were. They didn’t show it if they were.

When he was done he now had two new t-shirts, a new pair of jeans, a couple of books, a new set of pencils, and new walking boots. His parents had dithered about the boots, it could set him off. He wore boots when camping and that wasn’t exactly something he would want to remember now. But they decided to give them to him. If he liked them, that was good. If not, they could take them away and help him through it. A little bit of exposure therapy, they supposed.

He decided to put on his new clothes to make everyone happy. Getting dressed was probably a good idea, he hadn’t changed out of his pyjamas since the funeral. Or showered. It just didn’t matter to him.

“Thanks guys.” He said when he walked down the stairs and found them in the living room. His mum gave a teary gasp when she saw that he was dressed and tidy. He even brushed his hair. His dad smiled and gave an approving nod.

“You like your presents then?” He asked.

“Yes, I love them.” Finn smiled again. It was more genuine than the ones his parents had been getting lately so they were pleased.

“Want to watch tv with us?” Michael asked.

“What are you watching?” Finn asked as he sat down.

“This little comedy show, it’s very good. I don’t know if you’ve heard of it but-” Michael began to ramble.

“Michael, honey. He said he’d stay.” Grace cut him off softly.

“Yes, sorry.” Michael smiled sheepishly and was quiet.