Days on Island: 2 Afternoon
If it weren't for the whole plane crash, being stuck on an island with less and less chance of being rescued, and Gigantor of the Jungle running around out there, this might actually be a nice vacation. I mean, beach, ocean, island…it's Club Med's wet dream.
I'm sitting on the beach, the waves gently massaging my feet. As I stare out at the water I'm almost getting lost in it. It just seems to go on forever. It's silly, but it surprises me how big it is. It reminds me how small and insignificant I am in the grand scheme of things. It's like, 'This is it. This is the end of the world.' Here, time stands still…like nothing exists beyond those dark blue ripples that vanish into the horizon.
It's like we're the last people on Earth. The whole crash was just another one of God's wacky experiments, like Noah or something. 48 people will decide the fate of mankind, a cross section of the population, each chosen to pass a test for humanity.
I wonder what my test would be? Would I even have the courage or faith to pass? Maybe I've already been tested and failed. Maybe this place is my punishment for what I did in my life. God knows, I probably deserve it.
I haven't thought about God, fate, or destiny in 20 years, but this place brings something out in me. Something I thought died with Mom a long time ago.
The wind is strong now and every so often the ocean spray will sting my still tender wounds. I don't mind. The pain reminds me I'm alive.
I just noticed Walt is sitting farther down the beach. Most people are staring out at the ocean, but he's watching the jungle…waiting for his dog. I know his father, Michael, thinks the dog is dead. But, I'm going to hold some hope. Someone besides Walt should believe.