Desert islands aren't as quiet as one would expect. In four years she had never, not once, fallen asleep to silence. Sure, the waves were calming. But some nights it was New York City. Only birds instead of traffic. On the island, the rain was louder than she'd ever heard it. It pounded down onto sand, the plastic of their tents or whatever shelter they managed to find. The drops of water were heavier too; it didn't take long to be soaked through. It was a feeling she'd gotten used to. The island, she was used to.
She wasn't used to the flashing lights and loud sirens. The noises sounded strange and fake. The motor of the boat sounded distant even though it wasn't really that far. Rain plastered hair to her forehead and clothes to her body and she loved it. She knew the rain. She had learnt to predict how long a shower would last, and if it was worth drying off. Which is rarely was.
People ran around her frantically, making her dizzy. She was surrounded by strangers. People she didn't know. People she hadn't lived with, talked to. And he wasn't one of them. She knew where to find him, only she didn't want to. Because it would mean accepting, and after four years she didn't think she could.
He was wrapped in a large sheet, but some of the blood still seeped through. When she first saw it she remembered the first time she met him, when she sewed him up like a she did her curtains. She wished someone would patch up the rip in her heart. Not someone. Him.
He wasn't supposed to be wrapped up like that. He was supposed to be right next to her, holding her hand and leading her onto the boat, in the midst of artificial noise and lights. He was supposed to be the hero, the one who would share their story with the world. The one who be there forever. Now he wasn't there at all.
"Miss? Miss?" an impatient voice broke her reverie. A man clutching a clipboard, shook her shoulder.
"Miss, we need your name." He said, getting a pen out of his pocket. The rain had made everything slippery and he dropped it on the sand.
She glanced around. She saw her friends, the people she'd come to trust after a lifetime of doubt. She saw the forest. She saw the shelter she'd had for the past four years. The food she'd eaten. The saw the sand that had been her footpath for too long. She saw her home.
"Miss? Your name, please? Then we need you to make your way onto the boat." The man kept his eye on her, urging her to hurry up so he could move on.
She smiled weakly. You'd expect it to be so easy. That she'd run of the island as quickly as she could.
"Kate", she said after a pause, "Kate... Shepard."
"Kate Shepard. Thank you." The man scribbled it down and walked off.
She took a step towards the boat, but paused. She bent down and took a rock from the sand and slipped it into her pocket. I'll be with you forever, she thought.