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I had gotten up early the next day after... all of that... since I took the last shift. I still feel a bit awkward with Cynthia but I do wish to forgive her. I heard a rustling coming from behind me in the encampment we set up; I assume it to be Marge because she's always woken up before everyone else when she isn't last watch.
"Morning, Zee," I heard her whisper to me. Sure enough, she was the first to rise. I looked back to her and nodded as she walked away to get ready for herself. From what I know about my group, the order that people wake up is usually like this when I take last shift: it starts with Marge, followed by Jack a few minutes later, then Damien. Cynthia has usually been the last to rise since she's still trying to get used to being awake during the day since she was unconscious for so long. Soon enough, everyone has woken up for the day and I get up from my area, a nearby windowsill. With everyone packed up and ready for the new day, we set out to look around the new city.

To cover more ground within the day, Jack suggested that we split up into groups of two and three. Before I had a say in anything, Marge grabbed Damien and Jack and started heading off by themselves, leaving me and Cynthia to be the other group. I sighed and began walking off the other way. I took a few steps and noticed that Cynthia was not following behind me. I turned to see that her body was turned to me, but she kept her head low.
"Cynthia?" I called out. No response. She didn't even budge. I felt concerned that something might be wrong. "Hey, Cynthia?" I called out again, approaching her.
"Stop," I heard her say softly. I stopped moving. I didn't want to provoke her anymore if she wasn't comfortable. "Cynthia? What's wrong?" I asked her again, "Can you tell me what's wrong?"
"...me," I barely heard her say.
"You? Are you hurt?"
She didn't reply. Her words became muffled to me, as if she was lost in her thoughts. I wanted to move closer or ask her again, but at the same time I didn't want to provoke her in any way. We stayed like this for a few moments before I began walking up to her again.
"You know you can talk to me, right? Come on now," I spoke up, trying my best to keep my tone stable. I was really beginning to worry. We had just started to become close as friends, but now things felt like how they were when she first woke up and met me. She looked terrified, hunted, and alone. And I promised that she would never feel like this again. I cursed myself inwardly, feeling useless. I didn't even notice that she herself had started to approach me as well. When I looked up again, she was an arm's length away from me, tears streaming down her face as she looked into my eyes in pain. I stood there, staring back at her as mixed emotions enveloped my heart and through my mind as I wondered what caused her to be this way. We kept the silence between us, save for the few sniffles that Cynthia would make as she silently sobbed before me. I tried to move my arms, but to me it felt as if I were trying to move a mountain. I wanted to console her; I wanted to comfort her. But I was hesitating. Why am I hesitating? I thought, is there something that's stopping me? What could it be?

"Is this because of what happened yesterday?" I finally decided to ask after a bit of thinking. Cynthia's eyes shifted slightly, so I assumed I figured out the answer. I figured that was the case; even I still felt a bit awkward about it. Regardless, I did forgive her since she was under the effects of a weird chemical so I was contempt with letting it go. Unfortunately, I guess Cynthia didn't feel the same. It seemed like she still felt guilty about the whole thing.
"If that's the case, I already told you that it's okay. You weren't yourself and I understand that," I told Cynthia again. She looked away from me and stepped back. When I tried to come closer she looked up at me in fright.
"Don't," I heard her whisper, her voice shaking as new tears flowed from her eyes, "Please, Zee. Don't."
"Come on, Cynthia, I told you that it's okay," I repeated myself, "I'm your friend, aren't I? Friends forgive and forget. This is no different."
"Just... please give me some space, Zee," Cynthia continued to plead, eyes brimming with tears. She didn't bother to stop them at this point; it was no use.
"Can't you at least tell me what's wrong?!" I began to raise my voice. I was feeling frustrated that I couldn't help her. I was angry at myself for being unable to help her when she needed it. "Please, Cynthia, let me help you!" I continued.
"I don't want to go through that all over again!" Cynthia screamed at the top of her lungs. Taken aback, I fell silent. I let the words sink in. Again, I thought, what did she mean by "again"? Cynthia gasped and put her hand over her mouth as if she wasn't meant to say that. I became curious.
"Cynthia," I cautiously began, "What did you mean by 'again?' What's going on?" She kept silent, eyes wide and afraid. Whatever was the reason behind her actions now was something that she was too scared to speak of. My patience began to wear thin. I really wanted to help her but she kept refusing me. It was as if she really didn't want me to know.
"Cynthia," I asked again, this time my tone sounding much sharper and more authoritative than before, "Tell me what's going on. Please." She remained silent. I was about to ask again when I heard Marge, Jack and Damien return.

  They surveyed the two of us and Marge went from her neutral manner to that of a protective mother, marching towards me and grabbing me by my collar.
"Zee, you better explain what's going on here," she growled sternly. I didn't reply to her and kept a level gaze on Cynthia. I wasn't going to budge until I found out what was going on with her. Cynthia watched Marge lift me up, and I noticed that she twitched to rush towards me. But she hesitated and remained still, and turned her gaze back to me.
"Zee? Cynthia? Mind explaining what's going on here?" Jack asked us both in the same tone as Marge. Neither one of us spoke. Damien scratched his head in confusion.
"You two are close, aren't you?" Jack continued, "What's with all of this, then? Cynthia's crying and Zee, you look like you're frustrated. Something's up and one of you better start talking." Cynthia looked away from me, and I could see her entire body shake. I couldn't take it anymore; I freed myself from Marge and rushed over to her. My frustration was long gone and all I had left was the concern and worry that started this whole mess. I just wanted to help her; it was the only thought that crossed my mind. I placed one hand on her shoulder and turned her to make her face me. I needed to know, and I needed an answer now.
"Please, Cynthia," I spoke up, gently this time, "Tell me why you're trying so hard to avoid me now, when clearly you're in pain." I heard Marge gasp, and Jack shuffle a couple steps back to give the two of us some privacy. Even Damien kept himself silent. Finally, after a few more moments of silence, Cynthia answered me.

"I remember," she had said, "I remember something about what happened to me." My eyes widened at the realization. It meant that she remembered a bit about her past and how she ended up in Marge's care. I quickly cleared my thoughts and began to look around. To my surprise, it was already late into the afternoon.
"Let's head inside the house to talk about it, okay?" I said softly, "It's getting late, and I want you to be as comfortable as possible, okay? I'm sorry for raising my voice earlier. That was my fault. Forgive me?" She gave a light nod and let me guide her back inside of our encampment house. Damien volunteered to sort out their new supplies as Jack and Marge asked for me and Cynthia to return to the upstairs room to talk.
"I feel like this ain't my business to listen into something like this," Damien had said, "This is something between the two of you, and I think Cynthia here would rather talk it out with the one person she trusts the most, Zee."
"Damien's right. You, out of all of us, deserve to listen to what she has to say," Marge agreed, "I may have been the first to find her, but you were the first one she became comfortable with."
"That settles it with us," Jack said lastly, "Go on upstairs. Holler at us if you need anything like food or water." That's how I ended up in that same room as the incident alone with Cynthia again.

  It was awkward coming here for the both of us. Me, awkwardly walking up to the desk and Cynthia sitting on the bed fidgeting with her fingers. She looked as if she wanted to say something, but was afraid to say it. Truth be told, I was hesitant as well. I know I said I wanted to help her, but I didn't know how. All I really wanted was to show Cynthia that I wanted to support her and to help her when she needed me.
"I guess, I should start from the beginning," Cynthia finally spoke up, "Here goes..."