Days on the Island: 3, 10 PM

I take it back. I know I said someone should put him out of his misery, but not like this. This wasn't what I meant. I don't even know how it all happened. One minute things were fine and the next everything was falling apart.

For some reason, Jack was rushing towards the tent when a shot rang out, piercing the night's silence. I scrambled up to see what was going on and saw Kate and Jack staring at each other.

"What happened?" I asked as Sawyer came out of the tent, gun in his hand. My hands flew to my mouth and I heard someone say "Oh, God." Come to think of it, it might have been me since Kate had left…almost like she knew what was going to happen.

Sawyer told Jack he was doing what the Marshal wanted….he was putting him out of his misery. He looked hardened, telling Jack like it was, but at the same time there was something in his eyes. It was almost like he was asking for forgiveness, some kind of understanding from Jack.

Before anyone could say anything noises started coming from the tent. Someone was choking. We all looked at each other in horror for a moment as we realized the Marshal was still alive.

Sawyer had shot the Marshal in the chest, puncturing his lung. Jack said it could take hours to die. He told Sawyer to get out. I took a step towards him, timidly.

"Jack," I said quietly, but he shouted at me to leave. I could feel myself flinch at his tone and left the tent.

I went towards the water, the waves seeming to call me, holding some promise that I could forget what was happening back there. I could forget everything…that all this had ever happened.

Before I could get very far, I heard a noise behind me, a small sound of rage and guilt. I turned and saw Sawyer trying to light his cigarette with shaky hands. He threw the lighter angrily. I really hope he didn't know what he was doing because it was heading straight for my head before I caught it.

I stared at the lighter a moment, wondering if just maybe Sawyer wasn't the heartless, egotistical jerk I thought he was. He might have just done something incredibly stupid, but he had meant well….I think.

Plus, there had been that look on his face when he realized the Marshal wasn't dead. The same look consumed his face now. That look that I had seen once or twice before when he had been reading that piece of paper of his. A look that spoke of something deeper and darker than any of us could imagine.

He wasn't even paying attention as I approached him. He only looked up when he heard the click of his lighter. I held the small flame out to him silently. Sawyer's eyes searched mine for a moment, warily, as if looking for some sign of malice or contempt. Not that I blamed him. I really had never given him a reason to trust me and I wouldn't trust him if the roles were reversed, but after a moment he leaned in and lit his cigarette.

I don't know why, but I stood there next to him watching the smoke curl off his cigarette out of the corner of my eye and listening to the choked groans of the Marshal, both of us silent. Part of me wanted to say something, tell him he only did what he thought was right, but I didn't. Sometimes words can sometimes seem so foreign and awkward, never enough and, yet, more than we can stand.

The noises from the tent suddenly stopped. I held my breath as we both stayed rooted in our spots not turning until we heard the tent rustle. I looked back and saw Jack appear from the tent.

He simply stared at Sawyer for a second or two, his eyes filled with guilt, anger, and most of all, defeat. He had been determined to save the man, though we all knew it was a hopeless cause. Glancing between the two men, I suddenly realized how alike they both were. Each had tried to save a man in his own way…each had failed.

Jack walked away and I stayed where I was, staring out into the dark water. After a minute or two, without saying a word, I turned and left Sawyer there on the beach.

I thought I felt his eyes on me as I walked away, but when I turned to glance back at him his eyes were staring out into the distance, his face almost totally consumed by the shadows.

I don't know how long he stood there in the dark, his eyes telling of demons that had haunted him for too long. A broken man, being consumed by the darkness…with no one left to save him.