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Romen
Disclaimer: Unfamiliar; mine. Familiar; not mine.
Chapter Six
Alone
Shannon inhaled deeply. The air smelt damp and moist. It had a familiar tang to it. It was the smell of a rainstorm. It reminded her of sitting on the couch on rainy days, watching movies or TV, talking with Boone...
Boone.
The thought of him not being there anymore hurt so much. It was indescribable. There was a dull ache in her chest. She put her hand against it, as if the touch could stop the pain.
She would never hear his voice, never feel his touch. Never see his eyes. Those bright blue eyes; now dimmed.
She had never known that she cared about him this much.
The sound of Sawyer's heavy footfalls made her head ache. She massaged her temples, shutting her eyes.
"Do you even know what you're doing?" she snapped.
He looked at her in disbelief. "I happen to be following a very clear trail."
Her lip curled. "Since when did you become a tracker?"
"You're the one who asked for my help! Now are you going to listen, or not?"
She chewed on her cheek in frustration, glaring at him.
He nodded. "That's better. Now the way I figure, your brother was pretty messed up when Locke carried him back to the caves. So messed up he left a trail."
Her brow netted. "What do you mean?"
"He was bleeding heavy, Sticks. And it showed."
Shannon didn't need to follow where his finger pointed to see the small drops of reddish-black blood on rocks and leaves. Her heart lurched, and before she knew what she was doing, she was running, running hard in the other direction, as if she could run off the very island itself.
Blood pounded past her ears. She barely noticed the heavily falling rain. All she could think of was the blood, the blood that had once flowed through Boone's veins. There was something wrong with following it. She felt like she'd betrayed him.
She was thinking all of this when she lost her footing and slipped. She let out a scream as her head cracked against a rock jutting out of the ground. Everything went dark.
Shannon slammed her textbook shut, rising quickly from her chair and rushing toward the door along with the other mass of students, grateful that the bell had rung. She had been avoiding Mr. Sanders ever since her parents had objected to her going. That morning she had left a note in his mailbox. She wondered if he had gotten it.
"Shannon? May I speak with you for a moment?"
Her face grew hot as she turned to face him, saying nothing. He came out from behind his desk, his hands shoved down in his pockets.
"I know that it must be hard for you to be denied an opportunity like this," he began slowly, choosing his words carefully. "You have great potential."
She remembered what Boone had said two days ago. 'You have real talent.' She glanced at Mr. Sanders suspiciously, wondering if he was just making fun of her too.
"Anyway," he continued, "you're grades have been dropping. You're not turning in any homework at all, you cut class on a regular basis...Just yesterday you missed a very important lesson."
"I was sick," she justified quickly. That wasn't too far from the truth, was it?
"That doesn't change anything. The fact is that if you don't bring your grades up, you're going to have to repeat this course next year or attend summer school."
She froze. "S-Summer school?" she choked out. Heck, she'd rather repeat the course than miss out on her summer! "Aren't there any other options?"
"That's what I wanted to talk to you about." He clasped his hands. "If you attend the conference in New York, write an essay on what you've learned and how you will utilize it in your writing, I'll bring your grade up, how high depending on the quality of the work."
"But I already told you, I can't go."
"Perhaps if I could talk with your parents, I could...persuade them to allow you to go." His eyes sparkled. "How about we all meet for dinner on Thursday?"
She felt her heart light up. "Mr. Sanders, that would be excellent. I'll see if we're doing anything."
She went home feeling refreshed, much like when she'd been told about the trip to New York for the first time.
The first thing Shannon saw was the darkened roof of the trees. She blinked confusedly. Where was she? Why did she feel so groggy?
The splitting pain in the back of her head brought everything flooding back to her; Boone, the trail, running away, and the fall, before everything went black. She groaned, rolling over onto her side. She gingerly felt the back of her head. She could feel blood. Or was it just wet from the rain?
The rain had lessened to a mere drizzle. She pushed herself into a sitting position, immediately regretting it. The world spun around her. Despite this she crawled forward, her hand grasping a large tree root before she collapsed. She took deep breaths, trying to calm down. It was getting harder to breathe every minute, every second. She was out here alone, in the jungle, injured. No one knew where she was, not even Sawyer.
'I'm having an anxiety attack,' she thought to herself with rising panic. She heaved her body upward, wrapping her arms around a tree trunk as she looked around wildly. 'Calm down Shannon. This isn't any time to lose your head.'
'Crap, I'm going to die!'
She felt tears squeeze out of the corners of her eyes. She was going to die, out here in the jungle, alone and lost, without a single friend or soothing word. A sob escaped her lips. Sayid thought he hated her, and everyone else thought she was insane. They would tell stories about Crazy Shannon, the nutty girl who ran off into the jungle to track down John Locke. It would make headlines in the papers, along with a picture of her decayed body, found twenty years post-rescue.
'This is all Locke's fault. I wouldn't even be out here in the first place if he hadn't been so sneaky. He's a murderer; he killed my brother, and now he's going to kill me.'
She couldn't let Locke be victorious. She shut her eyes, forcing herself to breathe slowly and deeply. It hurt her lungs to inhale the large gulps of air compared to the short wheezes she'd been breathing just seconds ago. She didn't know how long she sat there, just trying to regain control over her own body and mind, but eventually, she did.
She tried to remember where she was. She looked behind her, hoping to see some familiar landmark. She saw no such thing. Still, that didn't mean she wasn't very far away. For all she knew, she could be right next to the caves. She swallowed against her burning throat.
"Help," she croaked, her voice no louder than a whisper. "Help. Somebody help me."
She blinked against the tears she felt welling in her eyes, scowling in frustration. "Help me!"
It was as quiet as the wind.
Shannon threw her make-up in a small case for her toiletries. She still didn't know how he had done it, but Mr. Sanders had somehow convinced her parents to let her go to NYC. Perhaps it was the threat of her sullying the Carslyle and Rutherford name. Maybe they just didn't want to have to deal with making sure she attended summer school. Either way, it had worked.
She dragged her suitcase out to the entrance hall. She was carpooling with a parent chaperone. She pulled on her jacket, going into the kitchen. Everyone was in their usual space; Sabrina flipping through a magazine; Dan drinking his coffee while he read the paper. And at precisely the right moment, Boone trudged into the room, still in his pajamas, his hair sticking up every which way.
"Well." Shannon's clear voice broke the silence. "I guess this is good-bye!"
No response.
She tried not to look too hurt as she shifted her weight.
"'Bye, Shannon." Boone gave her a small kiss on the cheek and a tight hug. "Stay out of trouble."
She grinned, grateful for some appreciation. "Don't worry, I'll be too busy!"
The honk of a car horn told her that her ride was here. She rushed over to Dan.
"See you when I get back, Dad."
"Love ya, hon."
"'Bye Sabrina."
"'Bye Shannon."
And with that said, she left.
The world was fuzzy and distorted. Everything seemed so slow and surreal. Shannon felt herself slip farther down the tree. The only sound she heard was that of her own ragged breaths.
She was so weak, so tired...
And no one was coming to help her.
TBC...