Kate and Sawyer are in a cell, alone, after being captured over a month ago. Various 'experiments' have been carried out on them and they are both physically weak. Jack has been taken away by The Others, and hasn't been seen for over a week. The room is sparse, with a bunk and two chairs. Sawyer sleeps on the chairs, having insisted on Kate having the bed. He hasn't tried anything on with her, and has made no advances but to hold her when she cries. Kate has stolen a small bottle from a storeroom.
I watch you.
Your eyes flutter occasionally, the corners of your lips turned up, your dreams obviously sweet. The covers have slipped halfway down your chest, and you're lying with one arm thrown out across the pillow and the other resting over the blanket. I smile to see your foot sticking out from under a corner of the covers.
I remember how harsh you used to be, how selfish. But then you changed. Maybe it was your realisation of our loneliness, maybe it was your brush with death. Or maybe…maybe it was me.
I remember how I cried after Ana and Libby's deaths. It seemed so unfair. Especially Libby, who was so good, so right. She didn't deserve to die. I know you knew what I was thinking at that moment. It should have been me. I could see it in your eyes as you slid into the seat beside me, feel it in the way you pulled my head onto your shoulder. And you understood.
I feel my heart constrict as you shift in your sleep, praying for you not to wake. I could never do it if you open your eyes. Those beautiful eyes that both torture and comfort with a single glance. I remember every time you looked at me, every time our eyes met. For a second I am struck by anguish and fear, but I use the old trick Jack taught me on our first day on the island.
One…Two…Three…Four…Five…
I sigh and reach into my pocket, making sure that it's still there. I am a coward. I know you would argue otherwise, and so would Jack, and most likely everyone else on this damned island. But I'm not brave, and I'm not strong. I'm weak. I know you can survive this, all of this, even if I'm not there to hold your hand. But I could never live without you by my side.
I'm leaving you this, my diary. Read it. Keep it. Destroy it. Show it to them. It is yours to do with what you will. I like to think that you will hold onto it, read and re-read it, knowing that I am always with you. But it may be that it is too painful. I don't want you to hurt. If destroying it stops you from hurting then so be it. It won't make a difference.
I hope you've read this far. I'm sorry I could never say this to you, but then this would all be real. Too real.
Oh God, I want to touch you, hold you, but I can't, won't. I told you I am weak.
I hope that someday you can understand why this is right. It is the only way. I can't go on, not like this.
I'vetaken outthe bottle now. It's so small. Such a small measure of liquid. I hope it doesn't hurt. It doesn't matter really, though, does it?
You sigh in your sleep, and I swear I hear you whisper my name. It's probably only my mind playing tricks on me.
It's almost dawn; I can see the grey light of morning seeping through the little window in the corner.
They'll be here soon. I have to do it now. Now or never. Never. Such a small word, with so many memories. I never. Do you remember? Of course you don't. That night in the jungle, the game we played. I never. How about one last round? I have to drink it somehow.
I close my eyes and then open them. I want you to be the last thing I see, your face imprinted on my mind forever. Here goes…I swallow, uncork the tiny vial.
I never…
I never…
I never…
I never…
Told you that I love you.