Prologue

Hurley made up his mind. If he gave all his money away, the money would still be cursed. So the only logical solution was to completely destroy all the money. Burn it. All $190,000,000 of it. Or however many millions of dollars he was worth now. Earlier that day he'd gone to the bank to withdraw it and he'd gotten into an argument with the cashier when she insisted that the maximum amount of cash he could withdraw in one day was closer to $2000 rather than almost two hundred million dollars. So, it would take some time to destroy all the money. He had time. Building a bonfire on the driveway out of the wads of cash, he lit the match and stepped back smiling. Without him noticing it, a burning $50 note flew into the air and fell onto the porch of his house. Within just a few seconds, the entire porch was up in flames. One of the support beams broke in half and the entire front of Hurley's house began to crumble. Damning the cursed money and uttering his trademark "Dude!" he turned to run but tripped over the bonfire of cash. Falling to the ground, he passed out before he hit the tarmac.

Jack finally finished the operation at 6am. It had taken him just over eight hours but eventually he managed to fix the little girls spine. Exhausted, he planned on driving straight home and going straight to bed. Instead, he received an anonymous phone call from a young woman with an Australian accent who, after stammering something to him about his father, hung up pretty quickly. He didn't have her number but he knew that if it was something to do with his father, he wasn't interested in hearing it anyway. His father was dead and buried, but unfortunately for Jack, all the heartache was still very much alive. Suddenly feeling in the mood for a drink, he found himself drinking an entire bottle of whiskey and watching his old wedding video before passing out on the couch.

Kate was due in court that day so she wasn't sleeping well; she was nervous, despite her lawyers' insistence that the appeal should go well. She hated her lawyer. But she hated being in prison more. Today was the day that her mother would be in court, testifying against Kate, recommending that the judge made her stay in prison for a few more years. Standing on her bed so that she could see through the bars on the window to the outside world, she felt her eyes begin to water. Kate guessed it was about 5am judging by the amount of light. Letting the tears run down her face, she wished that things were different, that Tom was here, that her mother would take her side. Suddenly, there was a bang at the door and a guard was looking in through the peephole. "You know, Austen, if you're gonna try to kill yourself, you'll need a rope or something. Now get down off the bed. Or you gonna make me come in there and make you get down?" Wiping her face, Kate climbed down and obediently perched on the edge of the bed, cursing herself for getting into this mess. Hugging her pillow, she sat with her back against the wall, slowly crying herself back to sleep.

Sun and Jin didn't speak in the car on their way home from the fertility doctors' office. Since they arrived in America, they decided to try IVF treatment and this was their third failed attempt. They had hoped to see an excellent fertility doctor in Miami, a woman they'd once read about while they were still living in Seoul. But when they called her office, the receptionist told them that the doctor had accepted a job in Portland over five years ago and had not been heard of since. Despite still not having a child that they desired, life was better for the couple since they escaped the wrath of Sun's overbearing and powerful father. During dinner, they spoke of their disappointment of hearing the news that, once again, Sun was not pregnant. The disappointment soon turned to anger, each blaming the other one for their problem, and Sun stormed up to the bedroom saying that she never wanted to see Jin again. She climbed into bed, facing the window. A few minutes later, Jin got into bed and faced the wall. With their backs to each other, they both eventually fell into a restless sleep.

Sayid never stopped searching for Nadia. Upon his arrival in America, he immediately drove to the neighbourhood where the CIA agent had informed him Nadia was living. Three years later, he still hadn't found her and here he was, in a bar with a stranger, a tall Greek woman, drinking away the pain and regret of losing Nadia in the first place. They went back to his apartment where she slept next to him while he stared at the ceiling, hurrying time so that it would be morning so she would wake up and leave. Soon it would be time for him to move to another state. He was always moving, always on the lookout, always nervous that he would never find her. America was a big country and she could be anywhere. Sayid rolled onto his side, away from the stranger next to him, and allowed his eyes to close so that he could imagine a time when he reunites with Nadia, a daydream he often indulged in when he was feeling down. Soon, sleep took a hold of him and he dreamt of Nadia and her beautiful brown eyes.

Sawyer was spending the night in jail as punishment for his role in a bar fight. It didn't matter to him. What's another night in jail? He'd gotten drunk and tried to hit on a woman who happened to be at the bar with her husband. Her husband who happened to have as many criminal tendencies as Sawyer and the pair felt no regret at beating the hell out of each other. Sawyer enjoyed it; it felt good to let off a bit of steam, although he wasn't going to deny that his three broken ribs were agony. Who cares, the other guy came off worse. He knew the routine only too well. Mug shot, fingerprints, locked in another cell for the night. A different town, different people, different situation. But life was the same, always the same. A never ending circle of anger, alcohol, theft, fights, women and jail. Lying on the single bed in the cell, Sawyer let out a heavy sigh before calling out to the guard on duty that he wanted to order from room service. When no-one came, he rolled over onto his back and drifted off to sleep.

Locke decided it was time. Picking up the phone, he pressed speed dial. No answer. He left a simple message – "Call me back" – before returning to his jigsaw puzzle. It wasn't long until his mind wandered and he picked up the phone again. Again, no answer, so he left the same message. After several unsuccessful attempts, there was a knock at the door. Shifting in his wheelchair, he used his arms to steer the chair to the door as the knocking continued. Mr Cooper has issued a restraining order. Illegal to try contact him. They will arrest him if this harassment continues .When the police officer left, Locke steered his way to his medical cabinetwhere he scooped a handful of anti-depressants. Each pill he swallowed reminded him how full of anger he was, all this anger being directed at his father, the man who seemed to promise the earth before conning him into giving up a kidney. Staying in the wheelchair, the wheelchair that his own father had confined him to after pushing him out of an 8th storey window, Locke began to feel drowsy and his head slumped against his chest. He could feel his eyes begin to close and with his remaining strength he muttered 'I hate you Anthony Cooper' before slipping into unconsciousness.

_________________________________________________________________________________

Hurley tried to get rid of his money but fainted on his driveway and woke up in the jungle.

Kate cried herself to sleep in prison and woke up in the jungle.

Jack received a phone call, got drunk and woke up in the jungle.

Sun and Jin argued and woke up in the jungle.

Sayid was searching for his lost love and woke up in the jungle.

Sawyer got into a bar fight and woke up in the jungle.

Locke swallowed handfuls of pills but never woke up in the jungle.