After comforting James, waiting for the tears to subside, my letter is handed to him. He pulls at the lilac ribbon and takes it away, opening up the paper.

Just the sight of my sister's handwriting has me in floods.

*****

Emma P.O.V

"Awh, Em. Don't cry," John begs me with a softness to his voice. Since I gave up my care package, I'm one of the only campmates not to have had any contact with my loved ones.

"I'm ok." I wipe away a few tears. "Ok, go."

"To my gorgeous younger sister."

And the tears start again. It's like I can hear her talking.

"To have to write down all my feelings in one letter is impossible - I could never put into words how proud I am of everything you've achieved. Not only have you gotten over so many of your fears, but you've also shown everyone the beauty of a hug, a laugh and a smile. I miss you so much that I text you every night, and even though you don't reply, I know you're thinking of us."

"I see you've also got yourself a boyfriend ... CONGRATS, SIS! He really is a dreamboat, and I'm so happy you've found someone who truly loves you for you. Mum, dad and I have met all his bandmates - Connor is so god damn hot."

I let out a snigger. "That's definitely something she'd say."

"Keep being truthful to yourself you sexy jungle queen - we're only a bridge walk away. Love you more than rainbows, your sister, Cassy. Xxxx."

James slowly rolls my letter back up whilst I let out sob after sob. God, I miss my crazy big sister.

"It's a beautiful letter, Emma." Nick comes over and pats my back. "It's really lovely."

Throughout the evening, everyone seems to disperse out over the camp, taking their letters and absorbing their true meaning.

I snuggle up in my jungle raincoat on the swinging seat in the treehouse. The letter from my sister - I learn all the words, the way each word is written, and how much they mean. This letter is pushing me to keep going, to battle through, and to make my family proud.

I hear a gentle cough.

"Can I join you?"

I look up from the paper. James is stood at the entrance to the treehouse with his hands in the pockets of his trousers. Looking at him through tear-filled eyes, I realise how amazing he actually looks, even when he hasn't showered in a week.

I shuffle over and pat the seat. He approaches me, sits down, and hooks his arm around my shoulder. "How are you feeling now?"

"Still pretty emotional," I rub my eyes. "But I'm okay. How are you?"

"Good." He winks. "I'm so glad my sister likes you. She's only eighteen, but she's fierce."

I cuddle up into James' chest on this warm night, stroking his arm with very light touches. "I'm not ready to leave yet... I just want to stay now and make my family proud."

"I'm not letting you go." James kisses the top of my head. "And there's no way you're leaving. Like your sister said, the camp would be so much different without you in it."

Everyone left in camp now is a massive character - everyone means so much to me. Whoever is next to leave - they're going to leave a huge footprint.

James and I cuddle up for a while, enjoying each others company and letting all of our stress fall away. As soon as dinner is ready, we return to camp, and I snuggle up with my girls to eat our meals of buffalo sausages.

When bedtime rolls around, we all hit the sack. James and I return to the Roman-themed chamber, snuggle up in each others warmth, and drop off to sleep in a heartbeat.

In the morning ...

"Morning campers!" Harry shouts over the camp, waking me up from a daydream. "How did everyone sleep?"

"So well," Anne grins like a Cheshire cat. "The best I have for a long time."

James and I slept amazingly well too; we both dropped off as soon as our head hit the pillow; I feel rejuvenated in every way. "Nick? Are we low on rice and beans?"

"We're ok." He assures me. Even when Nick hasn't been in charge of cooking, he always takes the lead on rations. "We'll be fine for the next few days."

I chew down on my tasteless rice and beans, swallowing every mouthful in need of some extra energy to get me through the day. I just have a feeling that today will be a good one.

"We better get ready. Dec and Holly will be here soon."

I guess I don't have time to shower.

I use the shattered camp mirror (shattered as Noel accidentally dropped it down a hill on his first day) to run fix my messy long locks, pop an awful spot on the side of my head (gross, I know) and check no food is in my teeth.

"Hello, campers," The male Geordie and girl from Brighton beam. "How are you all this morning?"

"We're very jolly." Fleur sings.

"Well, as usual, we are here to reveal who is next to leave camp. So, in no particular order ..."

"Fleur, the public has decided ... it's not you."

"John ... it's not you."

"Emily ... it's not you."

"Anne ... it might be you."

"Emma ... it's not you,"

I breathe a sigh of relief.

"James ... it's not you."

"Harry ... it's not you."

"Which means Nick, it might be you."

"So it's between Nick and Anne. The public has been voting and decided that the next person to leave I'm a Celebrity, Get Me Out Of Here is ... Nick."

After our presenters leave camp, Nick stands up and wishes everyone farewell. "Goodbye, Emma." My jungle dad takes me in his embrace. "You're in charge of cooking now. Oh! And take care of Harry."

"Don't worry Nick. I'll -,"

"Cobblers!"

I turn around to spot Harry, who's managed to drop our only mirror into the campfire.

"I'll try to look after him" I chuckle, high-fiving him.

As Nick jogs up the carved-out pathway to freedom, I link hands with my bestie Fleur and jog across the stream. We always go to a certain spot to wave a campmate goodbye. When Noel left, it used to be cramped - now everyone fits in just fine.

"Bye Nick!" I scream, watching him trot over the metal bridge to freedom."Have fun!"

The gentle black-haired bear waves down to us for the final time, before disappearing into the trees.

"And then there were seven."

I take a detour to the Bush Telegraph on the way back - even though I've been in this jungle for two weeks now, I still feel the threat of getting lost.

When I fling the door open, Harry is already sat inside, giving his alibi on the camp-mirror-in-the-fire story. I take a seat beside him, and add a few funny jokes and comments to his story.

As we leave, I take the laminate that is pinned on the door and guide Harry down to camp. "I'm sorry about the mirror," Harry cackles. "You girls always look tutti frutti!"

"Tutti frutti?"

"Slang for beauty!" He shakes his flabby cheeks. "You youth these days don't know anything about old times!"

We reach the camp. "Emily?" I ask. "Do you know what tutti frutti is?"

"What? Like the flavour?"

"No!" Harry claps his hand against his forehead. "It's slang."

"Hey, Harry?" Fleur asks. "Do you know what peng means?"

"Pent?"

"Peng."

He pulls a face of indecision. "Like when something smells bad?"

I snigger. "Anyway, I have a laminate. Celebrities. You must now pick two celebrities to face today's trial - Rotten Retrieval. No one is exempt for this trial."

"Can I do one?" John raises his hand. "I haven't done one in a while, and I'm not exempt."

We decide to send John, as well as one other campmate. Emily and Harry did the trial yesterday, so they rule themselves out. Anne is pretty reluctant to do it too.

"That leaves the three younguns," Anne concludes.

"Shall we draw straws?"

Emily picks up three twigs all different lengths and holds them out. "Emma, Fleur and James. Shortest straw wins."

Fleur goes up first and picks a twig. She pulls it out from Emily's hand. "Nah, it's a big one."

James picks one, and then I take the final twig. "It's you, baby girl." James has the longer twig. "So John and Emma are doing the trial."

I throw my brunette locks up with a hairband and grab my water bottle. "It's you and me, John," I sing. "And Fleur? You have to have taught Harry modern-day slang by the time we're back."

"He'll be fluent," James replies, pecking my lips softly and sweetly.

"You guys are so Tumblr," John awes. "See you all later!"

I'm great friends with John, but I don't spend that much quality time with him. "We've got this hunny." John hops along with his makeshift stick. "Let's get the bacon."

*****

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