There was blood everywhere. Burning her skin. She could taste it.

It made her sick.

His eyes haunted her. Fixed open, staring into space. Vacant, dead eyes,

She knelt beside him on the muddy ground. Her fingers aching from clutching that knife so damn hard. Fingers frozen so completely that she could not release it from her grasp. She closed her eyes, willing it to go away.

Asking herself over and over, what have I done?

As they sat to work it out, it had been almost an entire day since the last confirmed sighting of Jack. Accusations were flying in every direction. How could they not have noticed? Where had he said he was going? Why had he taken off alone? They began forming teams, allocating who would go north, who would go south, grouping provisions.

It was late in the afternoon. They made plans to camp, designating the safest places to stop. Arguments ensued, was it safe? should they wait until morning? Would that be too late? Surely Jack could take care of himself. There was no sense in others getting lost or injured or killed.

You tried, many times, to offer input. Didn't you know the island better than they did? Didn't you know safe places to camp? Weren't you a Dr? The most help to Jack if he was injured.

"You're a fertility doctor, darling." Sawyer sneered at you. "What use is that gonna be to Jack?"

"Jack was a spinal surgeon. A Doctor is a Doctor. I'd be more use than you."

"Was?" Sawyer asks accusingly, "Something you want to tell us?"

You just shook your head. You should have known better than to open your mouth at all. Still they despised you, didn't trust you. Jack was the only one who believed in you, the only one you could count on. Jack was gone.

"Best you just wait here then Doc, so we'll know where to find you if we need you." Sawyer orders you.

He was being condescending and spiteful. And yet still it made sense, to be in the one spot in case Jack did need a Doctor. Besides you didn't fancy getting yourself lost alone in the jungle, and no one was putting up their hand to be included in your search party.

"Do you trust me here alone ?" You couldn't help but taunt him in return.

Questioning glances were exchanged around the group. The silence was an answer in itself. No, they didn't trust you, they will never trust you. But no one wanted to stay behind and guard you, no one wanted to be left out of the search for Jack.

A few nearby places to search crossed your mind. You'd wait til they had gone off on their search and start your own, search Jack's tent for clues. You wondered briefly if the "others" had taken Jack. If this was "your people", they hadn't let you in on it. Not that it would be a great surprise to find yourself once again left in the dark.

You hated it, living here. Hated every second of it. You'd gone from your place of superiority, to the bottom of the food chain. You didn't doubt for a second that if the food on this island ran out, you'd be the first one they'd carve up and dish out for dinner. These thoughtless, stupid, blind, lost people. But you still had one thing- knowledge. It gave you power. You still had the upper hand. So you kept telling yourself. You're still one of the "others".

What was wrong with that? Life wasn't fair. No one else was looking out for you. You had to look after yourself. Each and every one of them did the same. After the way they treated you like dirt, why should you care what would befall them? It wasn't the kind of person you wanted to be. You look back at your simple, uncomplicated life, before you ended up in this hellish place, and you don't recognise yourself. But that's life. Things happen. You adapt, or die. And so you had adapted.

It didn't make you feel good, the things you'd been involved in. It sickened you. But you had to hold onto that hope, of getting away from here, seeing your sister. It was the thing that kept you going. And any hope of that meant allegiance with the "others". They had the power. And you tell yourself you belong with people like that. Not the people stranded on this beach, these innocent unfortunate victims. These survivors. But deep down there is that sinking feeling you. What if the "others" have just left you behind? What if you're trapped here forever. Surviving. With these people. It was all you'd been doing since you arrived here really, surviving. You couldn't call it living. And you actually allow yourself to wonder- Will it ever end? What if it never does?

If Jack doesn't come back, things are going to get hairy. You'll need to work on something else. Fast. To win the trust of the group. God help you if they think you've done something to Jack. Maybe it's over. Maybe you don't even care. You're sick of this. All of this.

You snap yourself out of it, the way you always do. Rachel. What was she thinking? You needed to survive this, to get home. The memory of Rachel is so distant. So surreal. You can't even remember her voice, what she looked like. Did Rachel remember you?

Claire's voice pulls you from your thoughts...