The LOST Writers' Island

Here's a one shot done for a Snow Globe challenge at the Fishbiscut site. It centers on Shannon.

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Being dead is funny. Well not in the ha ha sense but in the sense that it wasn't like I thought it would be. I was thinking pearly gates, angels type thing. Or maybe considering the way i'd lived my life, with flames and pitchforks. But it didn't happen that way. I'm still kind of here. I was told by someone I couldn't see that I needed to hang around for awhile. There was someone there that needed me.

I've always been a selfish kind of girl, hell ask Boone. If you could. He died long before I did. I haven't seen him at all to be honest. I guess his work was done. Maybe. But the truth is I rarely thought of other people other than what they could get for me. At least until I crashed on that island.

But that changed. He got to me, with his dark eyes and haunted demeanor. The only person that ever took time to actually get to know me. I ended up dying in his arms, there was a poetic irony in that i suppose. Like one of those dumb old love songs..or something out of the Shakepeare they forced us to read in school.

He said he would never leave me and he didn't. He wasn't lying on that. One thing he never did was lie. That made him a rare kind of person.

I was running away, running from myself, from what this strange man represented to me. Love, acceptance, understanding. What was it about me that drew him to me. I thought it was my looks at first. But it had to be something else that made him keep trying. That made him love me of all people. Part of me is still to figure that out.

He told me he loved me, right there in the rain, and I believed him. His eyes told me, they were the most honest eyes i'd ever seen. But for some reason I kept chasing the damn kid. Got myself shot.

As Boone would've said, typical, girl can't take care of herself.

You don't know what it's like to feel your life running out of you, like a river flowing out into the ocean. It would've hurt had my body not gone numb. I couldn't say anything at all, couldn't speak, Couldn't tell him that maybe I loved him too. I just saw the look of horror on his face as he watched me die and could do nothing. Nothing at all.

I've been stuck here watching him ever since. Watching him dig my grave, practically by hand. Watching him withdraw and become angry. He never smiles anymore, he used to around me all the time. He had a beautiful smile. I got the feeling it was something he wasn't used to doing. I want to reach out, to tell him that i'm here so he can smile, so he can live. Maybe move on in some capacity. But since then i've learned that I was the one bright spot he had in a life that was dark. That when i died it seemed to kill something in him, maybe his hope. It just seems like for him, it's only a matter of time.

I don't know what i'm supposed to do. The only time I can talk to him in is in his dreams. Otherwise he can't hear me at all.

I've been told that hell is repetition. The same things happen again and again in your life. That's how you know your there. Some people seemed cursed to live in it. Never being happy for too long. I know Sayid feels that, cause i've seen him, when no one else is looking. I've seen how much he wishes the pain would end for him.

Anyone who says time heals all wounds is pretty much full of shit. They've never had real ones.

Real pain isn't the pyhsical stuff. It's the things are embedded way down inside you. LIke a parasite that eats away a little at a time. It chews slowly under the surface, gradually cosuming you. It's been said that the living envy the dead and thats probably true. I don't have to deal with living anymore, most of my suffering is over. I've come to terms with my life. I think maybe my penance is to watch his now.

What's keeping him alive at the moment. A will to survive maybe? His obseesion with getting everyone else off the island? Is tit revenge? I don't know, maybe it's all 3. Maybe when he suceeds he can actually rest.

Maybe he does sense me.. who knows really? If he does, I wonder if he knows that I do love him. And that I am here. I'll be there when he's finally ready to rest himself.

Maybe my purpose in life was to give him something. Something to remember that was good, to hold onto. Like when we used to sit on the beach together, and just be people, ordinary people. He could forget what he was, and I could forget what I was. A sunset. A night under the stars. A happy memory. A perfect place, enclosed in glass where our pasts never touched us. Sort of like a snow globe, only with stars instead of snow flakes.

I had one of those once, played with it all the time, wishing I could live in there, perfectly safe. I cried when it broke. But maybe I can create another one. For him. A place he can go that's safe from that.

Listen to me, getting all philospical here. The dumb blonde who used to sun herself on the beach. Like I said, being dead changes things. You can't go back and fix the things you fucked up. Once your gone your gone. End. Finis. As they say in movies. It dosen't matter that I grew up in the valley with alot of money and little love. It don't matter that I did my toenails on the beach. It dosen't matter how pretty I was. Or if I was smart. My body is buried on the beach alongside everyone elses and that's the harsh reality.

I'm watching him sleep now. I'm going to hold him in his dreams, give him a few moments of peace in his tormented mind. Keep giving him the strength to keep going for now. I'll hold him in my arms and protect him in those times. And just maybe someday he can come with me.

Cause it don't matter what he did here. The true test of merit is in your heart. I've seen his heart. It may be broken right now, but its a good heart. He did after all love me. The bitch of the beach. The Valley Princess. Thats gotta count for something. And he keeps trying. He'll never stop trying when he sets his mind to something.

I put my hand on his face as he sleeps. In dreams everything is perfect. In his dreams we are still sittting on the beach together. Watching the sunset. It's pretty reds and golds. Heaven is here, not in the clouds. Its in eachtothers arms. It's safety and peace, it's inside the wonderful globe i did create, just for him. He can come here when he's done with whatever he needs to do.

I whisper. "i love you.."

And he smiles in his sleep. That's heaven.