For days, it had become increasingly difficult for Claire to remember things. At first these things were small, and somewhat insignificant; the name of an acquaintance on the island, or the face of a distant friend. The flavor of her favorite food, the model of her car, the scent of her regular perfume, the expression her mother had always worn when scolding her. Normally, it wouldn't be such a bother, but with little to do on the island other than think, it was becoming a nuisance, and a worry. She had told herself a thousand different lies to calm her nerves, but still, whenever something slipped her mind a jolt of fear ran through her.
She had hit her head during the crash. It had stung for days following, but the pain was gone now. And yet, guiltily, Claire feared brain damage from the injury. Her fear forbid her from speaking to Jack about it, but it gnawed away at her, and soon her stomach and neck and wrists hurt. She felt swollen and sore and stiff, her eyes stung from the sand, and the unyielding pressure of her pregnancy was exhausting even her mind.
It was always worst in the mornings. As the sun rose it roused her, lighting her face and warming her skin. Immediately she was too warm, and illness coursed through her. Claire was on her feet and darting toward the trees in a matter of seconds, where she vomited quietly. Throat raw and eyes swimming, she leaned heavily against a low branch for support, panting and wiping her lips furiously with the back of her hand. Pregnancy never seemed to get any easier for her, especially without her nausea medication. Although she had brought some with her on the plane, she assumed it had been dropped over the ocean, or long since washed from the shore where the wreckage lay.
It was a few minutes before Claire could muster the strength to leave the tree cover. The sun had already begun to warm the sand, and it comforted his swollen feet. Returning to her things, Claire wrapped a long shirt around herself and slipped on a pair of thongs.
The camp had already sprung to life. From the distance, Claire could hear the soft chatter of conversation and the sharp pounding of an ax. She made her way toward the noise, searching the faces she passed for a friend. No one greeted her, or acknowledged her for that matter, though she recognized a few. The communal food pile was low, consisting of yesterday's rejected fruit and a few grisly strips of boar. As unappetizing as such things were, she helped herself to a squashed starfruit and a slim stick of jerky. Her belly rested somewhere between ravenous and nauseated.
Her water bottle was with her other belongings, and she made her way slowly back toward them, tearing at the jerky and digging her nails into the rind of the starfruit. Before she could get very far a hand touched her arm.
"Hey."
It was Kate, sunburned and smiling. Claire smiled back, and let go of a breath she didn't know she had been holding. It was a relief to see a friend.
"Hi," Claire returned the smile, turning back to face her fully. Kate was dirty and her hair hung limply against her shoulders, frizzled and parched. Claire imagined her own hair looked quite the same.
"Have you eaten already?" Kate gestured to the food pile a few yards behind her. Claire raised her hands in clarification, and Kate smirked when she saw Claire's selection. "How appetizing."
[In Progress]
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