Charlie stared off into the horizon, fixing his gaze on the sun. He looked straight into it, for dangerously long. He was hurting his eyes. He knew it. How destructive it was- the sun. So hot, causing sunburn, draught, famine. So hot, the waves that carried the heat over the island. Every day, the destructive heat. Every day. His skin burned red. They needed the sun, he knew. It made the plants in Sun's garden grow. It made the fruit that Kate gathered grow. It sustained the boars that Locke used to hunt; it sustained them, the survivors. The gracious sun. An illusion. Its allure, its destructive nature lying beneath the surface. Charlie knew all about that- oh yes, he did. It's not that bad, really. It's what we need to live. What he needs to live. Just like the plants.
Destruction. Looking to destroy himself. To destroy what is inside. To forget, make it go away; his own self-destructive nature. It's only in his nature- it's essential, he thinks. He is convinced. He walks down towards the beach. Why does everyone judge him? They're all the same as he is, they just don't know it yet. They are not any more normal than him. This is how he feels, how he felt, that way, way back then. He thinks of the high. He thinks of it every day. Its ecstasies. He doesn't forget. He thinks of addiction. He thinks of how he didn't even see it, at the time, never a glimpse. Shut off from his own self. He'd hear it whisper. How it made him feel. He didn't feel anything else. He'd forgotten how to feel. He didn't know any longer how he felt, he only knew how it felt. They don't know what it was like, the others. They don't understand how far it reached into his soul. They didn't see his private torture. It's so close. So close to him now. Every day. They don't understand. He was immature then. What a façade. He still saw the glamour in it. The glamorous depravity, that made them feel. What is truth and what is right anyhow? They don't know. They know the sun. It burns their skin, and makes their food grow, and they live and die by it.
"Claire!"
She winces, and it tears his heart out. Why doesn't she see how much he loves her? Why can't she just understand, that he is only human, that he is better now? Why is it never enough? His mind rages, but he remains collected on the outside. They never see his private pain. Not even Claire.
"Well, hello, Charlie" Claire responds tentatively. She looks around nervously. She smiles slightly. "Aaron's, uh, Aaron is doing much better now." Charlie smiled widely, joyfully. He would give up all the drugs in the world for Aaron, and for Claire. They felt like his family. Like a real family. How badly he wanted that. He stared longingly at Claire. How beautiful she is! More beautiful than anything else. More beautiful than that façade, that illusion. More beautiful than even the sun.