My eyes flutter open, taking several moments to adjust to the bright light of morning. I sit up, running a hand through my greasy hair.

I'm glad I'm going to be leaving in a couple days. Having to struggle along the other survivors when I know there's warm showers on the next island is strenuous. I want to take a shower; I want to wash myself. I decide that I'd have to wash up eventually, if I was one of the survivors, so my mind is made to go back to the river. I would like to find another pair of clothes too; I'm desperate enough for clean clothes to wear someone else's. I feel dirty lying to all these people, maybe being physically clean will make me feel better.

I quickly rise to my feet, now looking forward to feeling clean, and contently exit the tent. Walt is out near the fire again, and when I reach him, he's ready with some more fruit. I graciously take it and eat my breakfast on the log next to Walt.

"So what do you wanna do today?" Walt asks excitedly.

"I wanna take a bath." I tell him, taking a bite of fruit. I watch Walt as he almost energetically agreed to come with me, until he realizes that would include me removing my clothes. He agrees to meet up with me later this afternoon.

I rise from my seat on the log, bidding a goodbye to Walt, and head towards the plane wreckage. I carefully tiptoe through the destruction towards suitcases. I find that most of them have been raided already, but I'm not looking for medicine or food or anything. Who else would be looking for my size of clothing, anyway? I search for close to twenty minutes before I am successful.

In a bright green suitcase, I find clothes and shoes my size. I sigh in relief as I accomplished my goal, but my stomach clinches with the thought of whoever's this was is dead now. It sends a chill through my spine, but I push the thought away and close the suitcase back. I carry the luggage, which is actually fairly light, back under my tarp and set it down. I reopen the zipper and search until I find a pair of nice white shorts and a light blue tank top. I also conveniently uncover a pair of orange tennis shoes and some socks, externally gasping in surprising excitement over the discovery.

After hurriedly running to the oasis, I strip myself of the dirty clothes-underwear and all-and slip into the rejuvenating river. I use my hands to scrub myself of the seemingly permanent dirt, with little avail. I go under the water to scrub my hair, which cleans it some.

"You'll probably need this." I spin in the water suddenly to see a girl, maybe 20 or so, with one hand holding a bar of soap and the other firmly planted on her hip. She sounds annoyed, like she didn't really want to offer me her soap, but did for some unknown reason. The girl sets the soap gingerly on a rock close to the river and wonders back into the forest.

Suddenly coming to my senses, I attempt to call out to her, "Thank you!" I swim over to where she left the soap and scrub myself down with it, making sure to use it thoroughly-as I don't know when I'll get my next bath in a couple days-but efficiently to not waste it. I'm finished within ten minutes and pulling myself out of the lagoon towards my clothes. I slip into my own underwear, after scrubbing them with the soap and water, then into the new clothes. Feeling refreshed, though still wet, I lay out on the rocks until my hair and clothes are sun baked and dried.

I walk back leisurely to the camp, new shoes ties around my feet, soap and the old clothes in hand. I have become a lot more tan during my days with the survivors so far, was well as the accompanying authentic sunburn, that underscore my light freckles along my nose. My hair has became an almost untamable mane and more sun kissed strawberry blonde. There seems to be an everlasting dirt stain on my feet and ankles, and several cuts and bruises scattered across my body. Juliet would laugh at the wild sight of me.


I close the door behind me, slow in attempt to be quieter. I manage to close it silently before I turn around.

I am met with Juliet's piecing blue eyes peering at me above her reading glasses. She had apparently been studying on the couch, reading one of her doctor books. I didn't know she was gonna be there.

We stand there, staring at each other, my mouth agape. The air is heavy; I'm not sure how she'll react, she could easily chastise me. Juliet hardly ever gets angry with me-frustrated sometimes-but never true anger. Her faces morphs from stern, into a failing attempt to keep a smile from her face. My face breaks a smile and we are soon both laughing. Juliet stands from the couch and approaches me, as we both continue to chuckle at the situation.

She touches both hands to to the side of my arms, looking down at me with love in her eyes, the way she looks at me everyday. Her face contorts in humor as she picks a ratty piece of hair and tucks it behind my ear.

"What happened?" She laughs, not covering her mouth like she does when she smiles around other people.

"Molly and I were in the woods and I fell into the mud." I say, feigning a pitiful look. The mud clings to my clothes and covers almost every surface of my body, save for some spots on my face. Every part of me is brown and heavy and completely disgusting.

"Oh please," Juliet's lip curls upward, "I just feel sorry for the mud, considering you brought half of it home with you." She wipes at the mud from my cheek and shoes me on her fingers as evidence.

"It looked like it needed a home." I push out my bottom lip, a deceitfully innocent look in my eyes.

Juliet scoffs, not being persuaded. She's raised me for the past four years, she is not fooled by my lost-puppy face. "Get to the bath, straight away, Livvie-Love." She uses one hand to turn me, and the other to playfully swat me on the bottom, pushing me off towards the bathroom.

I circle back to place my dirty hands on her forearm, causing her to noncommittally laugh a "oh, oh no, Olive.", and peck her cheek facetiously, leaving behind a muddy trail. She gasps, playfully vowing to get me back, before I turn and scamper off to the bathroom before Juliet can reach me.

"It's on, Olive!" Juliet promises from outside the door as I just send a laugh in response. Little did I know that I had started an epic prank battle that day, but all in love and fun.


I reach camp feeling a whole lot better than when I left. I had brushed through my hair with my fingers as best I could then braided it in a side braid thrown over my left shoulder. I feel actually civilized since I first arrived on this island.

I find Walt and we decide to walk to the rocks down the beach some. We hop along the rough rocks, barefoot, and look for crabs like my Grandad taught me. But soon the blonde girl that gave me the soap, along with the man I had seen around Claire, approach the rocks-forcing me and Walt to go find something else to do. On our way to the other side of camp and towards the woods, we are stopped by an older black lady. She has a kind smile.

"Don't go in the woods, kids. John Locke and Kate and Michael are hunting boat in there. It's not safe." The woman warns. She looks the both of us over. My shorts are soaking wet and sand covers most if my legs. Stands of hair have come out of my braid, giving me a crazed appearance. I am sunburned and dirty, but a smile is across my face. Walt doesn't look that much better than I.

"You look like street urchins, running around wild." The woman comments, chastising, "Why don't you two sit down and let me read you a story so you can rest." We smile widely and eagerly. She stands and motions us to follow her. We wait outside a tent as the woman goes in and comes out a minute later. We follow her to a shaded spot where she lays down a blanket for us. She sits down against a tree and Walt and I lay down on our stomachs, ready to listen.

She tells us her name is Rose and she was on the plane with her husband. She hasn't found him yet, but insists he's alive. Walt and I don't question her much.

Rose reads us from Peter Pan, ironic as it is. Rose tells us about Peter Pan and Wendy and the lost boys and Hook. The tale entrances Walt and I as we envision the epic pirate battles and elegant mermaids and tribal Indians. I remember Rachel used to read me this story.


"'Wendy, wouldn't you be our mother?'" Rachel reads in a bad British accent, causing a three year old me to giggle.

Rachel drops her jaw in fabricated insult and looks down to me. "You have a problem with my reading, kid?" Rachel tries to intimidate me.

"You read the lost boy voice funny, Rass." I couldn't yet say her name correctly. I look up to Juliet, over my opposite shoulder, who gives me a similar, jaw dropped but smiling, expression.

"Well why don't you do it?" Rachel scoffs playfully, then turns to pretend begging, "Read us the story, Livvie-love."

I scrunch up my face in playful mischief. "I can't." I state, narrowing my eyes as if I were suspicious, mainly to hide the smile behind it.

"Well you better learn fast!" Rachel and Juliet both dive simultaneously to my small stomach and tickle me, sending my flailing and laughing controllably.

Until the door flies open. By the time the door slams against the wall behind it, the three of us are frozen still on the bed. I have ended on Juliet's lap and she wraps her arms around me, holding me tight against her, and Rachel slides protectively in front of both me and Juliet.

"I told you three to come in here and be quiet." The man states dryly, "But you have disobeyed." He starts to stomp heavily towards the bed. He pushes Rachel away and onto the floor in one easy swoop. He heads for Juliet and I and the man reaches for me. He yanks me from her arms-he's too big for it to be a real fight-but he slaps her across the face to keep her down anyway.

The man sets me on my chubby legs in front of the bed. "You disobeyed me, little girl. You know what happens to bad little girls." He towers above me, menacing.

"Father, please don't." Tears already pool up in my eyes, but it's too late to protest. Father grabs one of my arms with one hand and raises the other above me. Before I could even think, the fist slams into my face. I would've fallen if he hadn't so kindly been holding me. My cheek hurts really bad and I want to grab for it, but he raises his hand again.

I close my eyes in anticipation of this hit, but before it lands, Father and I are being ripped away from each other. I try to look to see how Rachel is holding up against Father, but Juliet keeps my attention on her. "Olive," her tone is urgent and serious. I listen. "I need you to be Wendy right now, can you do that?" She asks. I nod. "Well Captain Hook is coming to look for Wendy. I need you to go hide from him." Juliet orders. I nod, but she continues. "Don't stop and don't leave until I call to you." I nod again and take off running to the door, and also to Rachel and Father fighting. Or really, Father beating Rachel.

I run past them, daring a glance to see Juliet attempt to insert herself in the middle of a punch by Father, seemingly intended for Rachel but no doubt regretful. I run down the hallway and into the closet at the end of the hallway. My chubby hands slowly and jittery open the door and I close it behind me. I feel for the air duct vent and pull off the screen, then slide in, enclosing myself.

I breathe heavy, afraid out of my mind. I hear shouts from Father and Rachel and Juliet, that abruptly die out several minutes later. Silence consumes the upper floor of the house before hear light footsteps come closer from down the hallway.

"Livvie-love?" Juliet's mellifluous voice calls out to me gingerly. I take that as my cue to bust out of my hiding space and into her comforting eyes. I notice she has a split lip and a bruise near her eyebrow that must look similar to the one forming on my cheek. She doesn't say anything but I attach myself to her hip and bury my face in her neck and hair, never wanting her to let me go.

I shiver at the memory. That was the first and only time Father had hit me. Rachel wasn't so lucky though. We went to the hospital several days later-the day after my fourth birthday-after Rachel had felt nauseous and really sick. They did an X-Ray to find a broken rib and did further examination. When asked, we told them we had gotten into a car accident. They told us they had found stage four cancer in Rachel's lungs. She lived for a year after that and died on my fifth birthday.


But I push the memories away, forcing them out of my mind. Rose stops reading just after we discovered Wendy is leaving Neverland. Walt and I look up at her questionably. She just points knowingly behind us and we both look to see a parade of people entering camp, Walt's dad leading it with an obviously hurt ankle and leaning on Kate. Walt and I both rush to the scene, along with the other people in the camp, just in time to see John Locke and Dad carrying a huge boar on a stick.

Everyone decides that we'll begin preparing and cooking the boar now, but will eat it when it ready later tonight for dinner. Sounds like a good plan to me. Dad and I sit on the beach together eating fruit he had stashed while in the forest. We chat some, but not a whole lot. I tell him about Rose and how she was reading us Peter Pan, neglecting the vivid details of it's significance to me. I also tell him of the soap I had gotten from the young blonde lady that was so nice. He listens, though it's not much of a conversation. We finish eating quickly and we both retreat to different directions of the beach.

I soon meet Walt and we decide to go on a walk and see further down the beach, as it's too hot to be running around in this intense island humidity and heat. We have walked almost to the edge of camp when an Arab man-the one I saw Jack talking with the other day-approaches us; well, more specifically, me.

"Where has your father been all day?" The man demands, not even bothering with formalities or introductions.

"Uh," I hesitate, "Out hunting with John Locke, I think. They caught a boar earlier." I supply.

The man takes an extremely large step towards me and gets in my face. He looks suspiciously in my eyes and leaves suddenly, leaving Walt and I confused by the whole reaction. What just happened? Walt shrugs, and I follow suit, and we continue our way down the beach.

We arrive back after nightfall, just in time-it seems-for boar. We are fed then immediately fall asleep and are both returned to our appropriate tents, fast asleep.

AN: Hey guys! Thanks for bearing with me through this story, it should really start to pick up soon. Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Just wanted to acknowledge that not all of what happens to the story will be according to the show; I had to move around some events and details to get what I wanted. Let me know if y'all have any questions/comments/concerns and I'll see to those!

Enjoy your Lost Day (4/8/15)