Barren. That word never meant much to me before this nightmare. It is. A nightmare–the one I’ve had ever since we broke down in Death Valley when I was seven. I’m dying. The heat, the lack of water–not the way I wanted to die.
I feel like I’m supposed to learn something through all this. It sounds stupid, but something tells me if I just learn it fast enough, I’ll survive this hell. That is probably the real nightmare. Hope when there is none. God help me.