My arms and legs flail around wildly as I attempt to catch my breath. I'm completely submerged in water and I feel immured by it. I accidentally inhale a large mouthful of sea water and choke slightly as it burns my throat. I cough deeply, trying to rid myself of the burning sensation, as a wave crashes over my head, sending me back underwater. I have the sense not to breathe in as I struggle back to the surface, fighting the stinging water.
When I resurface, all traces of Ben and his boat are gone and Goodwin is several yards away, leaned over something. I try to swim towards Goodwin, or 'Dad' as I should say, but another tall wave sends me under the water. The force of the wave sends me spinning beneath the surface and I immediately loose my sense of direction. I am spun with such momentum that I try to scream for help, remembering I'm underwater just a second after I open my mouth-taking in a huge lungful-then slam it shut. I flail harder, panicking.
Adrenalin and fear have almost completely taken control by the time I feel a large hand grab me, hauling me through the water until I'm laying on my back on what feels like a flat sheet of scrap metal. I sputter and cough heavily, trying to rid my lungs of the venomous sea water. When I finally start to calm down, I feel a gentle hand grab mine. I look up to see Goodwin holding my hand. He smiles gently down at me. "You alright?" He asks. I don't trust myself to speak yet, so I just nod.
Goodwin turns around and lays on his stomach on the small raft. He uses his arm as a paddle and begins to inch us toward the island. I close my eyes as the waves lull me and the sun shines on my skin.
When I finally regain a steady breath, I roll onto my stomach and help Goodwin paddle towards the island. I just keep scooping my arm into through the water, then up and out, then front again.
My shoulder is exhausted and sore by the time we're close enough for Goodwin to slide off the metal and into the water. He guides the raft closer to the shower, and when we're up to his waist, he reaches for me. I takes me into his arms, fireman style, and I cling around his neck. He carries me to the sand. He gets a couple feet before he drops to his knees and we both flop on our backs into the sand, exhausted and happy to be back on land. I'm soaked and gritty and feel disgusting, but I accept it. I'm probably gonna be dirty for a while now.
"Hey!" A man's voice calls to us. Goodwin sits up, but I stay in the sand, too tired to move.
The man approaches us and I turn my head to see Goodwin and the man standing in front of each other.
"My name is Peter, that's my daughter Sophia." Goodwin-I mean, Dad, offers.
"Jack." The man smiles, focused, shaking hands with Dad, then sending a polite smile to me, which I return. "We have a camp just up the beach. You can go there and join up with everyone else." Jack instructs. Dad nods and turns to pick me up.
But Jack inquires, "You wouldn't happen to have any medical training, would you?" He asks, not really expecting a yes, like he's asked everyone he's come across, just in case.
"I do, actually." Dad lies seamlessly, "I am... Was an EMT back home."
"Perfect!" Jack raises his eyebrows, "whenever you get a chance, I'd really like your help with the injured."
"Of course." Dad agrees. Jack thanks him, telling us he'll see us soon-that he's off looking for more people on the beach-before running off as fast as he came.
Goodwin makes quick eye contact with me, conveying a 'here we go'.
We soon round the corner of the tree line and see mass chaos. There's smoke and fire and bodies everywhere. There's people wondering around, crying and screaming. Dad takes my hand and holds me close as we walk around the wreckage, towards the trees where it appears everyone that's able has congregated.
Dad spots a pregnant lady, who looks maybe early twenties, sitting against a tree. I guess he's assumed she's trustworthy. We approach her and the first thing she does is smile up at us. "Hi." He says shortly.
"Hi." The woman smiles up to us both, rubbing a hand absent-mind ly on her stomach.
"My name is Peter Johansson. This is my daughter Sophia." I smile shyly. The woman peaks around Dad to wave at me, which I smile at.
She then extends her hand to Dad. "I'm Claire, Claire Littleton." She's got a heavy Australian accent.
"I know this is a big favor to ask, Claire, but would you mind watching my daughter? Jack has asked me to help the wounded." Dad explains.
"Of course! Come on, and sit down, Sophia." She pats the spot next to her.
Dad hugs me, whispering a quick, "Remember, make note of the good." in my ear before jogging away, ready to get his hands dirty. I watch him as he runs towards the wreckage.
I look back to Claire, who reassuringly smiles up at me, and I sit where she indicated.
"Where we're you sitting, on the plane?" Claire asks to break the ice.
I panic internally, but keep the feeling confined to my stomach. "Uh, towards the front." I noticed the front part of the plane isn't on the beach, and neither is the entire back third, but think it might explain why I ended up so far away.
"Oh cool. I was sitting a couple seats it the back, a couple rows behind where the front broke off. I didn't see you when you boarded." She's just making conversation, but I feel it as an accusation. Maybe, somehow, she found out we're lying.
So I come up with a response quickly. "Yeah, me and my Dad were on standby and boarded last second." I tell her, surprised at how casual I'm coming off.
She laughs, even though it's not really funny, "You're pretty unlucky." I hear a pinch of pain in her voice, as though she hurts for me. I just send a 'I know' glance at her, and laugh a little bit at the 'unluckiness' as well.
We talk for a while, some about me-and I lie-and some about her. I ask about her baby, and if it's a boy or a girl. She says she doesn't know yet. But she let's me feel her stomach when it's kicking and I'm just relieved that her child is okay.
It's getting late in the afternoon when a chubby Hispanic man approaches the both of us, with something in his hands. "Hey little dude, I don't think I've seen you around yet." He says. I have to remind myself to keep calm, that that wasn't an accusation. It was just an acknowledgement that he hasn't met me yet.
"My name's Sophia." I give him a tight smile, which he returns.
"Hurley." He introduces.
He then remembers why he came over here and hands us both bagged sandwiches. My stomach growls, as if it senses the close proximity of food. Hurley walks away as we unwrap the sandwiches with a heavy "See ya, dude." Both Claire and I glance at each other before we slowly eat the sandwich, careful not to eat too fast as if trying to drag the meal out longer.
When we finish, which is sooner than I would've liked, Hurley walks towards us again with something else in his hands, this time. When he reaches us, he towers over me for a second before extending his hand. It takes me a beat to realize he's offering a floppy stuffed rabbit to me. For a second, I'm confused. Why would I want an old stuffed animal? But then I remember; he doesn't know how old I am. All Claire and Hurley and anybody else know about me is my physical appearance and their assumptions on that and the behavior I've displayed. Hurley must think I'm a lot younger than I am. I want to correct him, stand up for myself, but remember what Ben said earlier. The younger I look, the more innocent I'm assumed to be. I have to milk that opportunity.
I take the rabbit, cradling it in my arms like an actual baby. I inspect it carefully before looking up to Hurley, making sure I appear awestruck. "Thank you Hurley." I smile with joy. Hurley just nods, feeling satisfied, before dismissing himself and walking away.
Claire and I talk more until sunset. Jack instructs us to get closer to the fire. Someone had set up two seats from the plane in front of the fire that Claire and I sit in and lazily watch the flames of the fire flicker in the darkness.
The flames dance around the clean fire pit, the heat licking my cheeks as I get too close. I pull my stick out of the fire, satisfied in the crispy black marshmallow on the other end. I blow it, cooling it, the promptly stick the entire marshmallow in my mouth.
"Olive!" Juliet gasps at me.
"Wha?" I turn around to her innocently, eyebrows raised. I wait a beat before I smile cheekily, the marshmallow making a second appearance. Juliet has no choice but to burst into laughter.
She quickly pulls herself back though, restraining herself to a concealed smile in attempt to not encourage me. "Olive, I don't see why you like to burn your marshmallows until they're completely on fire." Juliet's laugh breaks through, unrestricted, several times in her failing attempt to chastise me.
"Oh come on, Jewels, this is our last night of freedom! We don't know if the mysterious place we're going will have marshmallows." I state matter-of-factly, turning back around to load my stick with another marshmallow.
We sit around the small fire in our backyard. Juliet is sitting in a lawn chair and I'm sitting directly in front of her, leaning my back against her knees. I'm comfortable. But then again, I think I'd be comfortable almost anywhere with Juliet. She's my best friend, my protector; we're inseparable.
I must've dozed off because the next thing I remember is Goodwin setting me down on a sleeping bag in the trees, away from most the other people. It's really dark and there's a large array of stars across the sky, so I assume it's in the middle of the night.
"I'm about to meet him." He means Ethan, "Who do you have for The List?" Urgency and seriousness intensify his voice.
"Are they going to be okay, the people on the list? They won't get hurt, right?" I say sleepily, but still very much concerned. I don't want to have anything to do with someone getting hurt.
"They'll be fine." Goodwin dismisses quickly, "Names?"
"Claire Littleton," I say, hesitantly but factually, "Blonde, petit, pregnant."
He knows who I'm talking about, but I want to be clear. He nods in confirmation and allows me to close my eyes again. I am drifting back to sleep as I hear his footsteps get farther and farther.