Disclaimer: I do not own the Lost series, or any of the characters and events associated with it.

Chapter One:

I nervously clutched the arm rests on my seat. We had been off the ground for some time now, but I was still getting used to the feeling of being in the air. This was not only my first time leaving my native Australia, but it was the first time I had ever flown. So, needless to say, I was feeling a bit anxious.

I glanced to my left side. The man sitting next to me was tick-tap-ticking furiously on his laptop computer keyboard. I listened to the strange, random rhythm produced by his typing. He must have sensed me looking, because he looked up at me and met my glance with a kindly smile.

"First time?" he asked.

At first I was confused, and a bit affronted by his question, but then I remembered where I was. "Yeah," I admitted, shrugging. "How could you tell?"

"I fly a lot for my job, so I've seen a lot of people fly for the first time. There's a definite look in the eyes of someone whose never been in the air before." He smiled again, and then went back to his typing.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves, and look out my window. We were obviously quite high, and I could see misty bits of cloud floating by me. I sat up a little straighter in my seat so that I could see farther down. We were over water now, and I gazed out at the horizon. It seemed to go on forever, until it finally faded away and it became impossible to distinguish sky from ocean.

I had always lived by the water. That was where I was comfortable. Right now, I was really wishing that I was there, as opposed to in this metal cage of an aircraft. I had never wanted to fly in the first place, but I had no choice.

I thought about that morning, preparing to leave. I had pulled my long, layered waves of dark brown hair back into a pony-tail. I was wearing the most comfortable and versatile clothes I owned; I didn't know when I might next be able to change them. My choice had been a green ribbed tank-top and a pair of loose jeans.

I had left quickly, stuffing a few things into a duffel bag, and a backpack. That was now everything I owned. Not that I had owned anything incredibly spectacular anyway.

I heard a loud, low beep and looked up. The light for the "fasten seatbelt" sign had come on. I looked down. My seatbelt was already secure, but I tightened it nervously, anyway, just in case.

The flight attendant called down the aisle, "The captain has now turned on the fasten seatbelt sign, so please do so." She sounded a little nervous herself as she said it.

I turned and glanced to the outside of my row, and saw a group of three flight attendants walking hurriedly towards the front of the plane.

"Um…" I cleared my throat, trying to get the attention of the man next to me. "What do you think is going on?"

He turned and gave me that same smile once again. "Don't worry," he said. "I'm sure we're just heading into some turbulence. It's all very normal. Trust me, this sort of thing happens all the time."

I nodded. "Thanks," I said, weakly. I was suddenly feeling a little queasy. I always got that way when I became really worried about something. Looking back on the past year or so, I had felt that way most of the time.

I glanced down at my watch. We wouldn't be arriving in the states for quite a while, still.

Suddenly, I felt the plane begin to shake. The man next to me closed his computer and put it away.

"I think I'll just sit tight for this stretch, until things calm down a bit," he explained.

I nodded, clutching the armrests, and wincing slightly every time I felt the plane jolt. "You're sure this is all normal?" I asked, once again.

"Yeah," he said. "It happens all the time." He didn't sounds quite as sure this time as he had when he tried to reassure me earlier on in the flight.

The plane began to dive forward, and bags began falling out of the overhead compartments. I heard a few people around my cry out in fear. I tried to sit up straight in my seat, feeling as though I was going to fall out.

I gave a little yelp as an oxygen mask fell out of the ceiling, suspended in front of my face.

"Everyone, put your oxygen mask on!" shouted the flight attendant, as she secured her own mask. Even she now sounded slightly panicked.

I pulled my oxygen mask on over my face, bringing the strap down behind my head. I looked to my side and saw the frequent flier next to me closing his eyes and moving his lips silently, as though muttering a prayer. I no longer needed his reassurance; even having never flown, I was well aware that this was very abnormal.

The plane jolted forward once again, and we were now facing almost completely downward. I heard a loud crack behind me, and air and debris began flying towards the back of the plane. I forced my head to turn and saw that the back of the plane had been torn away. By this time, almost everyone around me was screaming or praying. I wasn't generally a person who prayed, but I didn't know why I wasn't screaming. It was like my throat had closed up, and I couldn't make a sound.

Out of nowhere, I felt a hard blow to the side of my head. Then everything went black.