It'd been dragging on for so long that she literally lost the count of days passing by her. She was a by-stander, never really trying to socialize with the rest of the survivors and avoiding them instead, just living in her own world or maybe in her own personal hell. If she asked someone, she was sure they would tell her exactly how long they'd been stranded on this island, but she never did. She was scared of life passing right by her. She was scared that one day she would wake up and realize that she truly wasted it. Once, she'd thought she'd been doing everything right - going to school, getting her education, meeting the right guy… only he never was the right guy. He only appeared that way in her head. She couldn't plan life after college, she realized. She couldn't plan love. She couldn't just pick someone based on his looks, college degree and job and be happy with him. Life didn't work that way. She knew that it didn't owe her anything, but in the end, maybe this one thing life did owe her. She couldn't just pick a random guy and expect to fall madly in love with him. Love was fate. Love was accident. It wasn't the careful planning of her education, career or even fitting into her skinny jeans. Maybe she just realized her mistakes all too late and now had to face the consequences. Only there was no way out. No one had come for them. There was no help on the way. They were on their own. And they didn't fare well either.
She was stranded on a deserted island with the other survivors of the flight 815 from Sydney to Los Angeles. At least she'd thought it was deserted. Now she knew that they weren't exactly alone, which only scared her more and she was dangerously close to breaking down completely. They said that when you lost hope, you lost it all and she nearly lost hers. She had a chance, even though it was on this strange God forsaken island; she still had a chance to start over, to maybe become a part of some community, to make friends. Only she hadn't. She'd done what she did best. She'd stayed away and it seemed to be too late to change now. It always was. She might be young, but she felt old, ancient even. She'd supposed to have her whole life in front of her. A light and bright future. And she'd lost it. She'd lost all of it. In fact, she'd wasted it because of an illusion. Because she'd been chasing something, somebody who was never meant to love her. Why had she been so damn naive and helpless in her romantic notions? Why hadn't she known better? She'd thought she'd had, but now she knew she really hadn't. Pity it was too late.
Stupid, stupid girl, she thought about herself. Maybe she deserved everything that happened to her. Maybe it was meant to teach her a very painful life lesson. And life wasn't a book with a happy ending. It was real and it was all chaos and confusion and risk. She'd gone after the pretty package, convinced that it would be exactly what she needed. She'd wanted to fix him, make him fall for her, make him happy. All that time she hadn't understood what she should've been really looking for - her personal happiness. It didn't matter with whom. It didn't matter how he would look like, how he would speak, what job he would have or how much they would have in common. None of it should matter as long as she would be happy. She never found this or maybe she was just too blinded to see it. As a result, she found herself used and degraded, so… wasted, she realized with deep ache in her heart. With regret, shame and self-loathing. She would've done anything for the guy and what she'd received in return? A plane crash since he was the one who bought her the ticket. The bitter irony was that he was supposed to fix her life and instead, he ruined it.
It'd been so long. So many days, weeks, maybe even months since that traumatic experience and it was still burning fresh in her memory. She still suffered and she still hadn't gotten to know anyone here closer when being too busy wallowing in her own pain. Maybe she was selfish. Scratch that, she was definitely selfish. And egoistic. Most of the survivors probably didn't even know her name and that hurt her as well, but she couldn't expect anything else. She'd never made the effort to learn their names either. She hadn't even talked to anyone, not without a valid reason anyway. Charlie had spoken to her briefly when he'd been busy drafting the passengers' list and some people occasionally asked for help while she was passing by, but she never lingered long enough to talk to them, to get to know them. And she was sure that they deserved to be known. Everyone deserved it until they proved they didn't. Like he had, her thoughts came back to the painful subject yet again.
She focused on the smooth movements of her arms and legs as she continued swimming in the ocean. It was her favorite activity on the island. There truly wasn't much to do except fighting for one's own survival. Swimming seemed like the only activity that was more associated with pleasure to her than necessity. She loved water. It both amazed her and scared her. She never swam too far in fear of not being able to come back. After all, there was no one watching over her, no one to even miss her or notice her gone if something happened to her. She either swam or sat on the beach and just stared into the vastness of the ocean. She was scared when she imagined the immensity of it, scared of the fact that they didn't even know where they exactly were. Scared that not so far away from here the ocean was so deep that a plane could sink and sink and yet not touch the bottom. Scared of all those creatures that might be hiding out there in the waters: sharks, whales, maybe even octopuses. She was particularly frightened of the last ones since they were so impossibly huge and, according to scientists, much smarter than humans. In hundreds, maybe thousands of years, if the Earth still existed, octopuses would be ruling it after humans. If that wasn't terrifying, nothing was.
Suddenly, she didn't feel all that good in the water. She knew she wasn't far or deep enough to encounter some suspicious animals, but who knew on this island? People apparently encountered polar bears, why not octopuses close by? Yes, she was definitely swimming back, trying to even out her breathing and not to rush. The last thing she wanted was to get a cramp. No one would come to her rescue. No one. This realization only caused her to feel devastatingly sad and lonely.
Maybe she was wrong, she thought, frowning when she actually spotted a man walking down the shore. He briefly looked her way and even though she didn't recognize him, for a moment there, she relaxed, her breathing evening out completely. If something happened, he would see and even though she never made the effort to get to know her fellow passengers, she was sure that none of them would leave her to die just because of that.
She finally got close enough to stand and then waded the last few feet to the shore. She spotted the man sitting on the beach not far away from her. Also not far enough from where she left her things, she realized and the feeling of being safe and watched disappeared, replaced by a slight embarrassment. She couldn't recognize this person. She didn't think she'd ever seen him among the other survivors and she wasn't comfortable walking around only in her bikini. He looked suspicious with an almost empty bottle in his hand, shaggy and a little too long hair and a beard. His clothes didn't look much better either.
"Hi," he actually spoke to her when he spotted her staring at him.
She frowned and tentatively made a few steps back. She shouldn't have been staring in the first place. Now she had his attention and it was something she wasn't sure she actually wanted. She grabbed her shirt quickly and pulled it over her head, feeling too exposed again as he began watching her for a change.
"You're one of the survivors, aren't you?" he eventually asked.
She still wasn't sure what to think of him and whether she should even be talking to him. By now she was well-informed that there were other people on the island and they didn't exactly have good intentions towards the survivors. They'd actually attacked them and tried to kill some of them. The last thing she wanted right now was to remain the victim. She needed to break the vicious circle and fight for herself, be a strong woman for a change. Maybe it was time, she thought somberly. Still, this man, though apparently a little drunk, seemed nice. His voice sounded gentle as there was a kind tone to it. It didn't seem like he was hiding something. His expression was pleasant as well and she could see the good in his eyes... She was staring again, she realized with horrification and actually blushed.
"Yes, I am," she eventually confirmed what he wanted to know. It seemed rude to just ignore him while she was the first one to take an interest in him. "And you are?" she asked, careful and ready to run just in case. He might seem nice, but she was well aware that the others were perfect actors. After all, Ethan, the guy who'd taken the pregnant woman (she was pretty sure her name was Claire) had mingled among the survivors and it'd only been for Charlie's list that he'd been actually exposed.
"Desmond Hume, the guy from the hatch," the stranger introduced himself.
It made sense, at least so far, she thought. There had been a guy down the hatch they'd discovered. Apparently, he'd been there for almost three years. Could the others know about him, too? Maybe they didn't. They would've gotten to him if they'd had, wouldn't they? Still, she wasn't ready to trust him just yet. To be honest, she wasn't ready to trust anyone at the moment, but she knew she needed to make the effort to get to know them eventually. Here the circle closed.
"Why are you here?" she asked in a brief moment of realization. She'd heard something about him leaving the island, hadn't she? "I heard you bailed."
"Well, I came back." He shrugged when taking a sip from his bottle. "I got on a boat and wanted to get the hell out of this island, but then… then it struck me," he told her and it piqued her interest again, even if involuntarily.
"What was it?" she couldn't stop herself and asked.
"I had nowhere to go to." He spread his hands, brandishing the bottle in one. "I'm a coward and a failure. In fact, my whole life is a failure from the very beginning. I thought it would end when I found the woman I fell for, but then…" he just sighed and shook his head. The alcohol apparently loosened his tongue. "I don't really want to talk about it. Who are you, anyway?" he clearly wanted to know more about her, maybe put the face to the name.
"How do I know you're not one of the others?" she asked instead of answering him.
He shrugged again and simply said, "You don't."
She was gone the very moment he said it even though it didn't sound like something the others would say. Desmond was clearly lonely and in pain and the cause to all of that was probably a woman. He might be just like her, she thought. He might be just the person who could understand her, a person she could find a common ground with. Maybe it could be a step-up towards establishing some friendships on the island. Still, it wouldn't be a friendship with a survivor from her flight. But did it matter anyway? First, she just needed the confirmation that he was who he said he was.
"Have you seen Jack?" she asked the first person she saw and unfortunately, it turned out to be Sawyer.
"Why do you need Jack, sweetheart, if I'm here?" he answered in his typical way. She didn't really like him as he reminded her of someone way too much. He was blond and his hair was a little too long; he was also handsome and well-built. Even the way he spoke reminded her of somebody from her past. Somebody she tried so desperately to forget, to run away from, but still, she remembered him and was trapped by him. Even if he wasn't with her physically, he still occupied her mind. The only difference she noticed between him and Sawyer was actually the level of their education. One was a professor, the other was… she didn't really know, which only proved how little she knew about the people she was stranded on the island with.
"Just forget it." She waved Sawyer off as she didn't feel like trying so hard to get the information she needed from him. Thankfully, she spotted Jack in the distance. "Jack!" she called after him and he was nice enough to wait until she would make her way to him.
"Is everything all right?" he just asked, taking a good look at her like he was looking for potential injuries or signs of sickness. It was typical really and she didn't feel intimidated by it. Jack was a doctor, after all, and they all owed him a lot. If it hadn't been for him, a lot of the survivors would've been dead by now. "You're…" he began frantically looking for a name in his mind with an embarrassed face. "I'm so sorry…" he started again when clearly not able to recall it.
"Julie," she told him. "And don't worry. We haven't actually spoken before when not counting the first day when you were examining everyone," she explained.
"Oh, ok, then." He was clearly relieved. "What's wrong, Julie? Are you feeling all right?" he asked with care in his voice, still trying to assess what might be wrong. She thought that was exactly what made him a great doctor. He cared and always wanted to help.
"Yes, I am," she answered. "I actually wanted to ask something not related to medicine," she hesitated. "I met a man on the beach out there," Julie pointed the right direction, "and he told me that his name was Desmond Hume and that he was in the hatch. Can I trust him? I just want to be careful with the threat from the others and all. I thought he escaped the island."
"Scottish accent, longish brown hair, beard, brown eyes? Slim and tall?" Jack described the man perfectly.
"Yes, that would be him." Julie nodded.
"He's telling the truth. I saw him in his boat last night. He shipwrecked on the island when actually trying to get away from it."
"Really? It makes you think it's a truly cursed place."
"I guess he's as safe as one can be here," Jack shrugged. "But let me know if he causes any trouble."
"Sure, thank you."
"You're welcome, Julie." With that Jack smiled to her and walked away, probably heading to the hatch. Julie, on the other hand, chose the opposite direction.
Yet, when she came back to the spot where she'd first seen Desmond, about an hour had passed. He was still there, just sitting in the sand and looking blindly into the distance. He seemed devastatingly lonely to her and she suddenly felt sorry for him. There was something about him that caused her to trust him and to actually talk to him. Maybe there was some kinship between them based on their painful experiences.
"So, it turns out that your story checks out," she said in a tentative manner and then, after a brief moment of hesitation, she sat down right next to him on the sand.
"Is that so?" he just said, staring at the ocean but not really seeing it. "It's been quite some time since you left."
"I wasn't sure I should come back," she admitted when hugging her knees.
"And why is that?" he asked, finally looking at her. Their eyes met and for a moment she just stared, not sure what she was exactly looking for. Maybe some mutual understanding? Maybe a sign that she could, indeed, trust this man? Eventually, she decided to just say it. She needed to talk to someone. Few more days and she would forget how to speak altogether.
"I'm a loner, I guess," she told him, shrugging and shifting her eyes back to the ocean. "Ever since the crash…" she sighed heavily, cutting in the middle of the sentence, but then she started again. "I feel like I've wasted all of the best years of my life for something that was only an illusion," she confessed what she'd been hiding for so long and it actually felt good to get it out there in the open. Talking to a stranger about your own problems was surprisingly therapeutic. But it also brought all the memories back to the surface, making them all that much more real.
Julie eyed the bottle Desmond was still holding and grabbed it after spotting that there was still a little of alcohol left. She took these remaining sips and then took a swing, throwing it into the ocean. It was vodka, something she hated when it wasn't mixed with anything, but she would feel a little bit better in just a few seconds, she knew that. For now she winced, waiting for the burning in her throat to go away. She wished she'd had some lemons with her.
"I think we all feel that way sometimes," Desmond finally spoke. "Like we've wasted so much time… Was it because of a bad break-up?" he took a guess.
"Actually, worse," she said, but didn't follow with any explanation. "You know, the first thing that struck me when I saw you was that you seemed lost somehow. And I don't mean the place we're in," she added, clarifying.
"I know exactly what you mean and let me tell you that you have the same look on your face," she heard him saying as he grabbed a handful of sand and let it slip through his fingers. It nearly depressed her. It seemed like the sand was time and it was passing by so quickly that they would never be able to stop it. They were just stuck on this island, forced to watch the days go by.
"Why didn't you leave this place when you had the chance?" she asked, curious about that. "And why do you think you're a coward?" she followed with another question before she managed to stop herself. This man intrigued her and she felt like he could be a kindred soul. She didn't want to scare him off and cause him to shut down.
"Well, if I was to tell you some private things about myself, I would at least want to know your name," he surprised her with that request and she realized she hadn't given it to him yet.
"Oh, I'm sorry… it's Julie," she did it now. "Julie Stanley."
"Well, Julie Stanley." Desmond looked at her sidelong and for the first time, she saw him smile. It was almost imperceptible, but it was still there. "I'm on this island because I shipwrecked here. And it all started when I became a monk," he told her.
"A monk? Are you serious?" She nearly laughed and then felt embarrassed that she might've offended him. "Sorry. I just… I'm not too keen on religion, I guess."
"Me neither, not anymore," he admitted and she nodded because she understood it perfectly. She did believe in God, but not in organized religion as an institution.
"I got kicked out pretty fast anyway," he continued his story, "and then almost immediately after that, I met a woman," he went on. "Her name was Penny and I fell for her instantly. We were happy for a while. Even when I… I had difficulties finding a job, even when I didn't have as much money as I would like to have in order to spoil her… we were happy. Until the car accident in which she died. I got on a sailing trip afterwards, couldn't deal with loss, wanted to be alone… and I ended up here," he finished, throwing his hands into the air and then taking a handful of sand again. "Once I was free from my duty in the hatch, I thought I could go back home, but to what? I've been gone for so long… Where would I even find a job? How would I put my life back together? There never really was a place for me there… So I drunk myself into a stupor and ended up back here." There was resignation in his voice like he surrendered completely. "What a coward, hah?" he added, chuckling.
"I'm sorry," Julie said, truly meaning it. "And no, I don't think you're one. I kind of understand you."
"What's your story, then?" Desmond asked, clearly not wanting to talk about himself anymore.
Julie lay down on her side with her head supported on her hand, facing him. She sighed heavily before she started talking, "I haven't really told that to anyone yet. I guess I'm embarrassed of how naive I was."
"And I'm embarrassed of the kind of a man I've become." He shrugged, looking at her reclining pose. "But it's fine if you don't want to tell me. I get it."
"It's not that. I really feel like I should just get it out in the open. I feel like it's…" she paused for a moment, looking for the right words, "I don't know… blocking me somehow. Like what I've been through causes me to keep punishing myself by staying away from everyone. And now it's just too late to actually get to know the rest of those people, share my story with them. They probably think I'm a freak or some rude person who thinks they're beneath her," she explained somberly.
"It's never too late to pick ourselves up," Desmond told her. "I don't know all of them, but I met some who seemed pretty nice. Maybe you should just talk to them. Who knows, maybe you'll both prove each other wrong."
She shook her head, her eyes focused on the sand like she was trying to count the grains, do about anything but to look into Desmond's eyes at the moment. "But I was so… pathetic," she finally admitted so quietly that he barely heard her.
"Well, I just told you I was a coward. What could possibly be worse?"
She nearly laughed, but before she even started, she stopped, her expression darkening again.
"Ok, just stop demeaning yourself. Why would such a pretty young girl would ever call herself pathetic?" he asked, not understanding a thing. His interest was now piqued and he temporarily forgot about his lame excuse for a life. "Maybe you are a little sad right now, but that's understandable considering the circumstances and the lack of help coming."
"I'm here because of a man who doesn't give a damn about me," she finally said, wanting to get it over with. She was tired of keeping it inside. It'd been weighing her down from the moment it'd happened. "And I gave a damn lot about him," she added. Desmond didn't say anything to that, he just waited patiently, allowing her to tell him on her own terms. "I was a student in college when I met him. He was a professor. I know now that whatever that was… was more of a physical and intellectual fascination than anything else… not love, not even real desire… I don't even understand it myself now... I was just impressed by him, I guessed. He seemed perfect. I liked the way he looked, I liked his charm and I liked his intelligence, but I never truly liked his character and I guess I was fooling myself that it was all right. Maybe I thought that I could change it… I don't know… When I got my degree, I knew that I would never see him again, so I was doing anything to be close to him, but in a subtle way. I never was one of those girls who could just go over to a man they barely knew and flirt with him openly. I keep bumping into him, pretending it to be an accident until we finally hit off. Until he finally took what he was being offered so eagerly. I would've done anything for him back then... All my money went for making myself more beautiful and more desirable. Clothes, make up, hair, even laser depilation…" she nearly scoffed at that. "How immature of me, hah?" Desmond just looked at her and didn't say anything. He kept on listening instead, not giving anything he thought away. "Then he asked me to go with him to Australia where he was to give a speech on a symposium. I was to be the pretty date and I thought he was actually falling in love with me," her voice grew bitter. "My suitcase was full of lingerie and flimsy clothing and birth control pills, only leaving little room for the dress for the event itself. I don't even know what I was thinking." She shifted onto her back, her hands pressing into her face as she was mortified by her own behavior. "That we would stay there?" she continued sarcastically. "That we would be happy forever? Now I hate myself for ever believing it, but I did believe firmly that we were meant to be. That he was the one and I would break through his defenses and make him love me. I don't even know now with what. With being pretty? With great sex? In fact… it wasn't that great. I felt like there was something missing, that something was wrong and now…" she paused to take a breath, sat up and blinked a few times, trying to stop the tears from flowing. "He got bored with me pretty quickly. Called me insane. Bought me a ticket back home and… and I ended up here," she finally finished. "I'm sorry," she added after a moment of heavy silence.
"For what?" Desmond asked, still sitting in his unchanged position next to her.
"For telling you all of this. I know I'm pathetic. You must think the same of me now." She refused to even look at him at the moment. She did feel better though, so that was a plus. She felt like a huge weight was lifted from her shoulders. Maybe it was some kind of a breakthrough. Maybe she would be better from now on.
"We all need to learn sometimes," she heard Desmond say. "You've learnt your lesson and now you're smarter."
"Yeah…" she scoffed.
"Trust me, I'm no better," he added after a moment and the sincerity and pain in his voice caused her to look at him again.
"You're running away from your life. You're afraid to start over. You believe you're a coward," she told him. "But the thing is, Desmond… I don't think you are." She met his eyes evenly.
"Really?" he asked in a slight surprise.
"Really. You just need to believe it. You can change it all if only you want to."
"I can't really do anything with my life right now. We're stuck on this bloody island," he complained, hitting the sand with his hands in anger.
She actually laughed at that. "You're right. We're screwed!"
"I think that somehow we're alike," he confessed once the laughter stopped. "We've both got lost and we both don't know what to make of our lives anymore."
"Ex monk and a whore, how delightful," she teased.
"You are not a whore," his voice suddenly grew dead serious. "Don't you ever dare call yourself that." His brown eyes settled on her own intensely. He seemed to be angry with her for saying what she did. "Do you hear me? You were young when you fell for that guy and now you know better. Don't you ever call yourself a whore," he repeated harshly.
"All right," she just nodded, surprised that he reacted with such anger. She looked him in the eyes and felt like he hypnotized her somehow. It was a very warm gaze. Nothing like the blue and cold one she'd used to receive.
"Good. And by the way, you're pretty without any make-up on," he told her a compliment because he did think so and he wanted to make her feel better. "Any man who doesn't see that is simply a fool. That professor never truly deserved you."
"Thank you." Julie actually smiled to him through tears that gathered in her eyes. "This might just be the nicest thing I've heard for… I don't know how long," she sighed.
"I just wonder… What do you have to wear if all you had in that suitcase of yours was lingerie and probably the bathing suit I saw," he teased her, trying to lighten up the mood and it worked, causing her to laugh merrily. He noticed that she wasn't only pretty when she smiled, in fact she was beautiful.
"I traded a few things with Shannon when she…" Julie saddened immediately and Desmond felt like he made a mistake. Still, how could he know? "When she was still alive," she finally finished. "I never knew all those things would be mine anyway because she would die."
"I'm sorry."
"It's fine. We weren't close, but still… I'm scared that we'll all soon be dead on this island. Those people from across it, they scare the hell out of me," she confessed.
"I've survived here for three years and I didn't even know they existed until a few days ago. I think we'll be fine as long as we all stick together," he said.
"Together…" she repeated, thinking about it. "I don't know about that. I would have to start socializing with all the other survivors."
"Don't you think you're alone in that," Desmond stated. "It's either that or getting the hell out of this beach and I have truly nowhere to go."
She felt sorry for him and in that moment she realized that she'd just made a friend. He wasn't on the plane, but it was all right. It was still a start.
"I think we could do that together," she said, looking at him with a beginning of a smile on her face. "After all, Jack said that if we didn't learn to live together, we would die alone."
Desmond chuckled at that. "Good one. That lad is a born leader."
"I don't know him that well, but from what I gather, he would hate you saying this."
"And that is exactly why it's true. Good leaders are those who don't really want to rule," Desmond explained.
"Actually, yeah, it does make a lot of sense," Julie admitted. "So," she started when looking at him and then at the beach in the distance where the rest of the survivors were, "ready?"
"As ready as I'm ever gonna be." He shrugged and they heaved themselves up and walked towards the crowd.