He still makes me cry
By Andressa Casale
Disclaimer: I don't own Lost, I wrote this for my fun only.
Author's Note: I dreamt about this scene a few weeks ago and I finally got the time to put it down on paper. It's set during episode Fire + Water, back at season two. But it's Ana Lucia centric. I know a lot of people hate her, and they'll hate her even more in the first few paragraphs of my story, since there's going to be some bashing of one of the most loved ships on the history of lost. Don't take it out on me, I love the ship that is going to be bashed, but it was written from Ana's perspective.
I don't remember where exactly Ana was on that episode, my memory fails me, I don't know if she was down at the hatch to watch over Benry or something. I don't have season two to check out the episode, so I hope you don't kill me if I made any big chronological mistake. If I did, then I'll play my author's liberty card. =]
English is not my first language, so be gentle. Flashback is in italics, hope you like.
----------------------
I wake up to the sound of a baby crying, it's the middle of the afternoon, and I'm not sure why I was sleeping. I don't know why I feel so tired lately, maybe after I crossed the island I begun to experience some weird case of the island's own jet-lag. Who knows? This place is crazy, and I hate being here.
Everyone is busy doing something, they all have jobs it's like a little society. I'm new here and people don't seem to like me that much. I don't blame them. I killed one of them when I first got here. It was an accident, I was trying to protect my people and I thought the girl was someone else. But I don't think they understand me. I would understand if they banished me, I wouldn't mind. In fact, I think I would be more comfortable if I lived alone. The only thing that keeps me from walking away is the fact that there are people out there in that jungle.
They are smart and they're animals! I wouldn't survive alone out there. Not that I care if I live either, but there's this stupid survival instinct that keeps me from taking my chances. I feel dead, and yet I don't want to die.
The baby screams louder now, I want to yell at someone to make that kid shut up. I get up and walk towards the sounds of the screams, when I arrive there I find that Australian chick rocking her baby desperately. I'm angry now, ready to give her an earful. Man, why do these people have kids when they don't know how to handle them?
I know her type she's can't be older than 25 year olds. She's just a reckless little bitch that got knocked up by a stupid jerk who fled the moment she told him the news. Now that poor little kid is going to grow up, seeing his mother jumping from one guy to the other. There might come a time she'll sleep with some bastard who likes to beat her little boy.
It had already started happening, she had been sleeping with a heroin addicted who tried to drown the poor little baby. I hate people like her! They don't appreciate what they've got. The boy's screams pierce my ears. It's painful to watch him. She's his mother she should know what's wrong with him.
----------------------
I lay awake at night on the bed alone. I stare into the darkness, looking at the empty side of the bed. Empty is a funny word. I feel empty. I tried so hard to fulfill the hole inside me, but there's no comfort food fat enough to make me feel stuffed. There's no drink strong enough to wash away the memories. There's no activity amazing enough to take my mind out of it. No TV show funny enough to make me laugh. No book interesting enough to keep my mind from wandering off the story.
It's all empty!
Lifeless…
"Meaningless," I say to the empty silence.
I feel awful, and there's no pill strong enough to make me sleep. I take a deep breath, I want to cry, but I can't for some reason. Maybe because I'm empty, there are no left tears inside me. I wish I was dead, I wish I had died when that bullet pierced my stomach.
I shift and turn, no position is good enough, my back aches and my leg gets numb. I feel hot and constrict, so I kick back the covers, only to feel unprotected and cold. Sleep doesn't come. The cars on the street are loud and annoying. The clock on my nightstand tells me it's 04:08 AM. I don't have to work tomorrow, but it still bothers me that I can't keep my eyes shut for more than fifteen seconds.
I get up and walk barefoot though the small hallway of my apartment. I find myself walking into the next room, it's awfully empty here. There's a crib and a changing table. And there's a shelf on the wall full of stuffed animals. I've wanted a baby since I was sixteen, when I found out I was pregnant I went out to the local toy store and bought all the stuffed animal they had.
Danny told me it was too early to start building the nursery. But I didn't care. It helped me to cope with the anxiety of having to wait for the terrible nine months that didn't seem to pass soon enough. It's been nine months since I got shot, and it has past really fast. It's been almost a month since Danny left me, twenty three days precisely. He says he can't deal with me anymore, he says my behavior tiers him.
I pick up my favorite teddy bear from the shelf, and sit on the rocking chair. I cradle the teddy and rock myself, I think about how good it would have felt if the teddy was made of flesh and bones, because the bear already smells good, like a baby. The neighbors' baby starts to scream again, it's only been forty two minutes since he had his last meltdown.
I put my hands on my ears, trying to shield myself from the sound and I feel a tear rolling down my cheek. The baby's screams always scratch my heart. It reminds me of what I'll never have, because when that guy shot me in the gut I was two months pregnant and my baby didn't survive. The doctors then told me that due to the damage on my womb I would never be able to get pregnant again.
The baby is still screaming, he always makes me cry!
----------------------
"Hey," I say angrily at the girl and her baby. I don't know her name. I don't care. "What's wrong?" She looks at me with fear in her eyes.
"I don't know!" She confesses still rocking him. "I think there's something wrong with my baby." Her accent is funny. I barely talked to her before, and the way she says 'baby' makes me want to laugh even though I'm mad at her.
"Isn't he hungry or something?" I ask annoyed, she shoots me a cold glance, telling me that she knows her baby better than me.
"No, really, he just doesn't cry like this." I can tell that she is worried and it softens me a little, I feel sorry for her.
"He may be coming down with something. You want me to go get Jack?" I offer my help, and I'm stunned by how much sympathetically I am towards her.
"No," she says shaking her head, there's still fear in her eyes and the way she keeps bouncing that kid in her arms makes me nervous. "Charlie said he needed to save my baby," she says, but I can hardly hear her while he screams his lung out. "What if Charlie is right, what if my baby is dying?"
"Don't be silly," I tell her smiling, trying to make her feel better, "he's not gonna die. Look at the way he screams, he's healthy!"
"I don't know, Charlie seemed pretty serious," she tells me pacing around in the sand, "I can't lose him, I love Aaron so much!"
I feel my heart beating heavily it makes my breath get caught in my throat. I understand what she's feeling. I know she's having a nervous breakdown. But how do I tell her that her boyfriend is crazy?
"Can you take him for me?" She asks approaching me, I feel the blood leave my face, and I shake my head. "Please, I need to calm down!" She begs me, putting the baby on my arms even though I protest against it.
I hold the baby awkwardly, afraid that he would break in my hands, I don't know what to do, and he is still crying. I watch her sit on her bed and cover her ears. I understand her now. The baby's screams are hurting her. She doesn't want him to die. I know that he isn't going to die, but she is his mother, and just the thought that he might die is driving her crazy.
I don't want her to feel like this. I look at baby in my arms. I need to make him stop screaming. I shush him holding him close to me, I don't know if I'm doing the right thing, but I begin to swing him gently from side to side. He starts to enjoy the rhythmically movement, he looks up at me with big gleaming blue eyes. I smile because he looks so cute, and he smiles at me.
"You made him stop crying," the blonde girl said. I look at her smiling proud of my achievement. I see relief on her face.
"See," I tell her happily, "he's fine. He was just being fussy!" I reassure her.
She smiles at me, glad that she was just being paranoid. "You're good at this. I'm gonna make you my official baby crier stopper!"
I laugh then look down at the baby again. "You need to give your mummy some rest, little fella." I tell him in a funny voice. "Because if she knew how bad I am with children she wouldn't ask me to baby-sit you." I bring him close to my face and kiss his forehead, his smile gets even bigger.
"He likes you!" She tells me, I look back at her shocked. The feeling is so strong it's beginning to overwhelm, I give him back to his mother with tears threatening. "What's wrong?" She asks me.
"Nothing," I say blinking back tears, "I gotta go…" I search my mind for something to say, she seems to notice how uncomfortable I am, because she keeps smiling. "Do something…" She nods her head and I leave them.
As I walk away I let go of the pretence and let my tears fall, I'm glad no one is watching me, because even when he is not screaming, he still makes me cry!
----------------------
Did you guys notice the numbers? A little inside joke to all lost fans, I did this because of the Bulgarian lottery that picked the same numbers twice in straight draws, and guess what were the numbers? 4, 15, 23, 24, 35 and 42. Freaky right! Let's hope nothing bad happens to the 18 people who guessed the numbers in the second drawn.
