Bennie Dewhurst
Who were these people? Who was this girl who had greeted them? Why was he here? Why? Why? Why? He was tired of not knowing, but he was much too terrified to ask. All he wanted was to go back home, where his family and Alpine was. His entire frame quivered with pure fear, the boy was on the verge of crying. Bennie had yet to move from his seated position for the past few minutes - he refused to budge. He didn't like the sound of bickering, his ears were unfamiliar to the gruff and uninviting voices of the men. For once, in his life, he wanted silence. Was that so hard? He had been a good boy, he never asked for anything not within his parent's reach. What had he done to deserve this? Bennie scrambled towards a nearby tree, but still reasonably far, and pushed his back against it. The boy squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his hands over his ears - the sleeves of his hoodie muffling any outside noises. He didn't want to be noticed, he didn't want to be here. He had convinced himself that maybe if he ignored it, perhaps he would go back. Back to the warm folds of his duvet, back to the gentle caress of his teddy cat, back home.
Suddenly, a blinding light flashed through the gloomy inside of his eyes. Bennie jerked back in surprise but he did not open his eyes. He watched, stiff with a combination of curiosity and shock, as a script continued to run across his eyelids. The boy assumed it was information provided to them by the strange girl, but he could not read it fast enough. In random intervals, twitchy images were slotted in between the columns of texts. Each picture projected something valuable he had recently left behind. A half-open door, spilling light into the dark bedroom. His father sitting beside him on the mattress, a loving smile etched onto his face. The glossy pages of a storybook. The glowing stickers of the moon and the stars glued onto his ceiling. Alpine snuggling in between his slender arms. It then abruptly stopped, giving Bennie a sense of isolation.
It was a confusing concept for a child's mind to understand, Bennie was now even more homesick. Had that been done solely for that purpose? To remind the group what was patiently waiting for them back at home? The boy glanced back up at the girl, what was her agenda? Did she not like them or did she just like being mean? Did she not realise how much that short-lived memory had broken him inside? The boy was fed up with asking questions. he didn't want to be with these people. They were all strangers, Mother had told him never to speak to strangers - he hadn't intended to speak to them in the first place. His lip began to quiver and he could feel the edges of his eyes smarting. Without a second thought, Bennie began to cry. He began to bawl and blubber like any child his age. He wiped his dribbling nose with his dirtied sleeve before continuing with an equal amount of bravado. He was too tired to think properly. The inner turmoil of emotion concealed within him had burst out - and Bennie had openly welcomed it.