Jasper looked up at the rising sun. Another day on the island. Another lonely day. He forced himself to be positive. Maybe today would be different. Maybe someone would come over to visit. However, he knew that wasn’t the case. Oh well. Maybe if he went back to the pogs, someone would come to play.
He reminisced about playing the game as he started walking. Even if it had only been a few months after his death, it felt like ages ago. Still, he could remember every detail of the day as if it was yesterday.
Jasper sat on the ground, stacking up his pogs. Every design was facing down, which was a shame since he wanted to show off the cool ones he had collected. His tongue stuck out of the side of his mouth with concentration as he placed the final pog. Just as he got out his slammer, a boy sat down next to him. He looked up from his stack to see a grumpy looking camper with his arms crossed and a pout on his face.
“Hey,” he greeted, “you’re that new camper! Davey, right?”
The boy nodded, shifting in the grass. “Yeah, whatever. Just so you know, the stupid counselors are making me do this.”
Before he could question him, Davey got out his own plastic container of pogs. Jasper’s eyes lit up as he tried to peer inside to see the patterns. He got shooed away by the other, who grumbled something about regretting this decision.
“You’re gonna play with me? Radical! I don’t wanna brag, but I’m pretty good at this game! If you’re a newbie though, I can totally go eas—”
He whined, closing his mouth. Davey got his own pogs out and stacked them on top of Jasper’s.
“We’re playing for keeps.” The boy practically gave an order as he finished stacking. “I don’t play the square way.”
Jasper nodded, fiddling with the slammer before starting the game.
Before he knew it, he had gotten to the pogs. They were all perfectly stacked up, like someone was about to start a game. He had been waiting for someone to play with. They never came. He never came. Jasper sighed, sitting down next to the stack and pulling his knees close to his chest.
The minutes mentally ticked by as he stared at the pogs, getting more and more frustrated. The silence of the room was deafening. The realization that had been in the back of his head the entire time was slowly weighing on him. Yet, when it hit him, it felt like a train had hit him.
Davey was never coming.
In a fit of pure emotion, he knocked over the pog stack with an arm. What was the point? What was the point in waiting here in silence? He was never going to see his friend again. He was never going to see anyone again. He had been left all alone. Abandoned. Distraught, he hid his face in his knees, tears starting to form. There was no point in any of this! All his waiting, all his hoping. There was no point! No one was coming to play one last game of pogs. No one was coming to have one last conversation. No one was coming to go one one last hike.
No one was coming. Not now. Not ever.
He sobbed with his head buried in his knees. There was no hope left. Just Jasper. Only Jasper. For as long as he was trapped here.