A few hours later, nighttime was upon the island and it was truly magnificent. It was cloudless, the first time in a while, there were about a million stars in the sky and the moon was full and huge. It looked so peaceful and calm but not everyone was feeling those emotions. Charlie was definitely one of them. After nearly collapsing in the water, Charlie had to be carried back to the beach by Sayid, Boone, and Jack while Kate ran back to get the makeshift bed that Charlie had been sleeping on. The three men placed Charlie on the bed and Jack began examining him. Jack carefully lifted Charlie's shirt and saw that the swelling on Charlie's stomach had intensified and the black and blues had gotten darker which was a clear indication that the break in his ribs was worst than Jack thought. Jack couldn't do much on the island, so he took an old shirt of his, ripped it in gauze-size pieces, and dipped them in the basin of cold water he had Sayid get for him. Then, he and Kate, who was sitting and trying to comfort Charlie, placed the water on the bruises in an effort to bring down the swelling which didn't do much good. In a final effort, Jack took some cloths and placed them on the bruises and then, placed some pillows on top to ease the intense discomfort Charlie was feeling. Intense discomfort was an understatement to what Charlie was feeling. Charlie couldn't roll over, sit up or even breathe without his ribs causing pain. Not only that, Charlie's neck was starting to get sore again. His neck had been hurting on and off since the hanging but the cuts were starting to heal with the help of some first aid cream. Still, the pain was unbearable. And Charlie wondered how much he could take; not only with the physical pain but the emotional pain as well. For the first time, Charlie felt alone on the island. He felt like he couldn't talk to anyone or share what he was feeling. And it was killing him, making him feel worse. He didn't know what to do, how to make himself feel better, so he carefully laid down, feeling pain with every movement. Charlie laid and looked up at the beautiful sky and a thought, a memory came into his head. The memory was so clear; it was Manchester, his hometown, in the little house that he grew up with his mum, dad and older brother, Liam. The house was nothing to sing about; it was old, with broken windows, and a low ceiling. But Charlie loved it because of the love in it. Charlie cracked a smile as he thought about his mummy. She was like an angel, so sweet and kind and loving and she looked like one too, with beautiful green eyes and long, honey-colored blond hair. Charlie remembered playing in the backyard with her when Liam was at soccer practice. It was their special time together, when his mummy would push him in the swings and he would go high up in the air and squeal and laugh. His mummy would take him in her arms and spin him around. She would bring out tea and biscuits and the two would have tea outside. And the two did that every afternoon. It was wonderful and then, his dad came home. Charlie recalled the fear that entered his soul as his dad would storm in the backyard, after a long, hard day of work, tired and hungry.. and angry. Angry that the house wasn't clean to his liking, angry that dinner wasn't warm enough, angry that Charlie and Liam left their toys out, angry at everyone and everything. Unfortunately, he would take his anger out on the family, screaming at Charlie, Liam, and their mum. And he would hit them. Charlie remembered one day, when he forgot to put away his toy truck. Charlie ran to put it away when he found his dad holding it. Charlie remembered his dad's face filled with enrage, as he took the toy truck and threw it out the window, break the glass. His dad grabbed Charlie, a fragile boy of five, by the ear and screamed at him, "Didn't I tell you to put your toys away?! Don't you think, you stupid!!!" Then, he slapped Charlie in the face, resulting in a bloody lip. His mummy, who was out food shopping, came in, dropped the bags and scooped him in her arms and took him to his room. Charlie recalled feeling so scared and terrified of his dad and an overwhelming amount of blame, thinking the beating was his fault. He said, "Mummy, it's my fault I get hit. I shouldn't have made Daddy mad. I shouldn't have left my toy truck out."

His mummy would take him in her arms and hugged him tightly. "No, no, Charlie boy," she gently cooed. "It's not your fault. Daddy's just in a bad mood."

"I'm stupid," he said, bursting into tears.

"No, no you are not stupid," she said, firmly. "You're not stupid. You're a very smart boy. You're my beautiful, glorious little boy, you're my Charlie boy. And I love you."

Charlie smiled through his tears, feeling better. His mummy cleaned him up and stayed with him until he feel asleep, singing his favorite lullaby, "Hush, little baby". Charlie recalled his feelings changing from fear and blame to happiness and peace. And love. Charlie felt so much love and care from his mummy, that love and care got him through the tough moments in life, whenever he felt sad or unsure of himself. He always had his mummy to tell him how good he was, how much she loved him….until she died from breast cancer when he was a young man. It was at that point, on the island, lost, scared, and beaten, that he began to miss his mummy. He looked up to the sky and felt a tears slip down his cheek. "Mummy," he whispered into the sky. "Mummy, can you hear me? I'm scared, I'm so scared. I don't know what's happening to me. Mummy, I need you. Why aren't you here when I need you?"

"She's here in your heart," said a voice. "She's here in spirit."

Charlie looked up and saw Rose standing there, with a blanket wrapped around her