He awoke to the sound of his own terrified screams. He was alone in a white room. White washed walls, padded white flooring, a bed with a white bed spread, a white chair, and a window made up the room. White comforter and white curtains were on the bed and windows. White. Of course they'd use white. White. That color. Purity. Innocence. White was like a virgin's wedding dress, never stained, never harmed. He destroyed innocence. It was obvious. Look at what happened with Simon. Jack Merridew, it was his job to destroy that innocence. He had done it once, he would do it again.

A door (white) opened and a man in a lab coat (white) stepped into the room. He was followed by a girl, about Jack's age, wearing jeans and sneakers.

"Jack Merridew." The man said.

"I am not Jack. And I am not Merridew. I am the chief." He felt the need to make this known. He wasn't Jack.

The girl looked away to cover a small smirk. The man looked hard at her, daring her to make another mistake. She seems less than phased.

"This is Rae." The man said, "she will be speaking with you." Rae grinned at Jack.

She looked hard at his as the man left the room.

"Jack."

He knew her. She was Rogers… sister? It was so hard to remember life before the Island.

"R-Rae, why are you here?" he stuttered.

"I got into a fight with some girl in the park and they said I needed to learn about the effects of violence or something like that." She said. Then added, "why are you here, Jack?"

"Because I changed."

She grinned at him and he felt something for her. But… what was it? He knew it was more than friendship but… he was a shell of his former self. And that shell didn't know emotion.

"I know." She said.

"C-can you tell me who I was?" He asked, half pleading. If he could just remember…

"No," she said playfully, "It'sa secrettttt!"

"I have a RIGHT to know." He said, anger lacing his words. His blood boiled. The shell remembered anger.

"You DO know," she said defensively, "the answers are inside of you. Find them."

"I'll find them faster if you'd just tell me."

"No, that's not remembering. That's just me telling stories." She said, decidedly. He remembered that she was really smart and confident in every word that slipped out of those lips. "Don't worry, Jack. I have a plan." Then she walked right out the door. She just LEFT. The day went on. He was inspected by too many doctors and was finally allowed to sleep. He had another nightmare:

He was surrounded by pitch black darkness with the characteristic murkiness of ink. He was looking for the "Beastie." Stupid kids. There was never a real "Beastie", nothing that could be sensed, nothing physical. But the chief knew that he could control them by their fear. Simon went back to tell Piggy what was taking so long.

"Oh, we mustn't worry Piggy." He spat, causing words laced with hate and malice.

In the silence he weaved through trees, pretending to look for his "target." Idiotic children.

Did they really beli---

"Why do you hate me?" Spoken by none other than Ralph. And before he could turn, the dream was overtaken by sobbing.