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10 October 2005 @ 01:29 am
We’ve stopped walking completely, first I stopped and Kate just stood next to me. She was trying to figure out what was going through my mind, I could tell. It’s not that hard to read when she’s attempting to read you. You’d think knowing that much would give you some insight into what she’s thinking but it doesn’t. Kate’s probably one of the most closed off people I know, that’s saying something.

I can’t move from the spot I’m standing on. I don’t know if it’s because I passed the point of exhaustion a few miles back, the blood loss or if it’s actually me realizing what I’m doing. I’m trying to find Locke for what? To kill him? To make him pay? What is that I hope to accomplish here? I don’t even know anymore, maybe it’s that thought that keeps me rooted to the spot where I’m standing.

Where were we anyway?

I glanced around the darkening field; it looked similar to the golf course Hurley made us. We were loosing light and fast, it looked like my trek was going to cause us to make camp tonight. It was probably useless for me to attempt to find Locke, he’s the kind that if he doesn’t want to be found he won’t be. It’s what I get for running off half cocked; I’m both thankful and sorry that Kate is with me. If it weren’t for me she’d be off sinking, since I tend to catch her doing just that anytime she can.

I always wondered what it would be like to share those kinds of memories with my parents; even the tiniest ounce of happiness could have sustained me for days on end. I searched my memory and came up with nothing; so much for that.

“It’s too dark to make the trek back; we’ll have to make camp tonight.”

I didn’t wait for her answer; my focus was singular, make up for the stupidity of running out here without a plan so Kate doesn’t hold it against me later. Tomorrow my focus is likely to shift back to finding Locke, but for tonight...

We found a spot near the forest that provided a makeshift shelter, it would do I guess. Then we started to find kindling to build a fire, it was funny, before the crash I never really thought I’d get any use out of being a boy scout, yet here I was.

I really hoped there were no accidents at the cave tonight, because the survivors were going to be short a doctor at leas until morning. I guess we’d see if they could manage without me.

I watched Kate arrange the pieces of bamboo and grass we needed to start the fire, I had to keep myself from asking her why she decided to follow me. I'd always felt so alone in my life, but when I was with Kate, I didn't feel that way.

"You think everyone's going to make it for one night without us?" I was trying to joke but I think it came out a little bitter.
 
 
09 October 2005 @ 08:20 pm
Jack and I had been wandering for... I don't know how long. Time seems to slip away from you when you're on an uninhibited island in the middle of nowhere, and you know no one is coming for you. It all becomes about living through the end of each day. And maybe seeing tomorrow.

I don't know what happened to Boone. I wasn't there. And I wasn't the one who drained my own blood into this arm in hopes he'd make it. In fact, when Boone finally died, I was off in the jungle, delivering Claire's baby. Something I didn't think until it was over that I was actually capable of.

So there's all these mysteries, and there are all these so-called miracles on this floating piece of land. And of all the things we've seen yet, one death seems to be enough to push Jack over the edge. Nevermind the fact that people have been leaning on him since the day we fell from the sky, and landed on a beach just a few miles back. They found out he was a doctor, and they clung to him, because they thought he could save them.

And for those that he did save, he's now a hero, and our leader, and everything in between that people need. Or that they think they need to live long enough to be rescued from here. But truthfully, Jack's just a guy, doing the job he went to college to do. The job he's always done. Not so that he can go down in the history books as someone special, or righteous.

But because he doesn't know how to do anything else.

Like now. Here we are, chasing John Locke, who Jack believes is responsible for the death of Boone. And everyone thinks, Jack is a hero, who is going to bring us justice. But they're confused. It's not justice Jack is going after.

It's vengeance.

That's why I'm going with him. To stop him. Not just because John Locke is a human being, and vital to our survival. But because I don't want to see Jack make a mistake he'll have to live with for the rest of his life, even if the rest of his life is spent on this miserable island.

I know what it's like. To live with something you can't ever take back, and you can't change. And I'm going to stop Jack, whether he realizes it or not.

My eyes drift to the beach beside it, and all I want is for Jack to give up the ghost so I can go dig my toes in the sand, right where the water meets the land, and sink.

The light is fading, and there's no sign of Locke anywhere, and no sign of where we came from. Just miles and miles of paradise, that might as well be Hell for what the last forty-four days have been like.

We're going to have to stop for the night. There's no arguing that. And at this point, there's no turning back either.

Nothing to do but wait for Jack to figure out his next step.

Are we truly lost now?

I mean, moreso than we've already been.
 
 
24 September 2005 @ 04:30 pm
My father used to say he was making me into steel, when I was 13 I read the superman comics and I remember coming to the realization that superman was the man of steel. I always thought that’s what my father wanted me to be – superman. I never read another comic book again, to this day every time I see anything related to superman my stomach twists in knots that I’ll never be able to un-tie or work through.

I didn’t want to be superman then and I don’t want to be superman now. I swear sometimes I think they all look at me and expect me to tear off my shirt and see a huge S on my chest.

If I had any doubts about my ability as the island’s hero they tripled the second Boone’s life slipped through my preverbal fingertips. He asked me to let him go and I almost didn’t listen. I was so close to just disregarding what he wanted from me and cut off his leg. Deep inside I knew from the moment I saw his injuries that he wasn’t going to make it. I think maybe I was hoping for another miracle, like with Sarah.

I’m not a man of faith, I never have been and I don’t think I ever will be. My life has always been about hard facts and pain that you can’t control. Maybe that’s why I married Sarah, I just couldn’t let go to the idea that maybe I could perform miracles. I guess that’s infinitely stupid for someone who doesn’t believe in the miracles but sometimes you bury something so deep you aren’t even conscious of it anymore.

I wonder sometimes what would have happened to these people if I hadn’t been on the plane. Would they be better off or would there just be someone else who they made their hero? I’d like to think Kate would be that for them, even if she doesn’t realize it, she’s much stronger than anyone knows. I try not to think about her too much, it’s just a distraction and sometimes I shake with the weight of it. It reminds me of my father and his addiction, the reason I’m here in the first place.

What is it Locke’s always saying about destiny?

I don’t even know where I’m going anymore and I’m barely aware of Kate’s footsteps behind me. We’re searching for Locke and my focus isn’t quite right. I’ve felt helpless before, in the last few months more than anything else, but right now I’m so out of my element that I can’t even think straight.

Locke was responsible for Boone’s death, I know it, I can feel it in my bones. Boone was murdered and I’m going to find John Locke if it’s the last damn thing I do on this island. I can’t fail this time, I won’t fail.

A hatch, a fucking hatch is what all this is about? I’m not even sure I want to know why or what. I’m tired of false hope and fear. I’m tired of pain and loneliness and I’d love nothing more than to sit down and cease to move, cease to think about anything at all. For some reason I can’t give up. Maybe it’s because if I give up everyone will know, they’ll see it. I’ve already given up on rescue, I’m not sure if everyone else has figured that out; except Kate. Kate knows I’m not expecting to be rescued; she could see it in my eyes when I decided to move to the caves.

I’ve never really been the type of guy who likes the spot light. I prefer to help out when people aren’t looking, I don’t like the attention, I don’t like being the man of steel. Superman seems like a curse, a cross to bear in the wilderness.

I don’t understand why they all look to me for answers, for help and hope. I’m just as clueless as everyone else. A reluctant hero; is that what they think of me? I don’t feel like a hero, I never have. It’s part of who I am. I know I’ve done things I regret, my father thinks I hate him; maybe I do, but I also miss him. I miss how he could take command and not let it become personal. I miss how he used to give me that knowing look whenever he could sense I was taking on too much.

Maybe that’s why I’m so drawn to Kate; she seems to see beyond the hero everyone else makes me out to be. Sometimes I wish they’d listen to Sawyer when he says I’m not what they think I am. I wish they’d see I’m not the thing of legends or proverbs or lessons. I’m just a man trying to help people survive on this goddamn island.

We’ve been walking a while and I can’t imagine we’re anywhere we should be but my need to see Locke to demand he tell me everything that happened spurs me forward. We’ll always make it back; at least that’s what I tell myself.

We make it to a clearing and I’m taken back by the beauty of it. I know I haven’t seen it before and I really start to wonder how long we’ve been walking- an hour, Two?

The suns already setting and I know it’s dangerous to keep walking at night. There’s no path, no real way to get back; not knowing all the dangers in this place never escapes my attention, sometimes I just pretend it’s not there. Like all the secrets we have are lurking in the shadows to swallow us hole.

I still feel like Alice – falling down the rabbit hole into an abyss of the inexplicable. I am no superman, but I will find Boone’s murderer.