The first thought that came to mind the next day was actually not a thought but a memory. It was of the moment before I went to sleep last night. The voice that had sounded in my head was a frightening thing, one that I couldn't get out of my mind.

At that moment, I decided to open my eyes. The sun was just coming up and I lifted a sand-encrusted hand to shade my eyes as best I could. Sitting as straight as ever, I stretched, my arms extending to the sky and my legs towards the ocean, whichever way that was. Stretching while sitting didn't work out to well for me, so I stood up and walked out of my tent, kicking up sand.

Not everyone was awake at this time; I saw several sleeping figures spread out around the beach.

But one man was awake. It was that old man with the scar going down over his right eye. I walked a couple of steps closer to see what he was doing.

He was sitting down, leaning on a piece of the wreckage. He held a knife in one hand and a small piece of wood in the other. It took me a moment before I realized he was making a whistle. Why would he need a whistle, though? And anyway, the whistle would definitely get annoying after an hour of the shrill, ear-splitting sound that would come out of it. He deemed it finished and placed the whistle up to his lips. I expected a shrill noise to permeat the air. But nothing happened. That's when I realized it was a dog whistle. Probably because we hadn't seen Vincent in a couple of days now.

Suddenly, Vincent came bounding out of the jungle, tail wagging, tongue sticking out the side of his mouth. He looked very happy and energetic, like maybe he had been chasing a bird or something. He plopped down on the sand and the man stood up, walking over to the Labrador Retriever. He produced the dog's collar from behind him, placing it around his neck. The leash was attached and he and the dog walked in the direction of where everyone else slept. I realized that that was where Michael and Walt were sleeping.

The man looked up with one scarred eye, the other unscathed, and spotting me, he smiled and waved. I returned the gesture.

When people really started waking up, I thought I would walk closer to camp. The scene that stood before me was amazing. Beautiful beach, gorgeous skies, calm waters. And every where I looked, believe it or not, it looked like people were being kind to one another. I had expected that sooner or later, we would have started turning on each other. You would think that at least by the second, maybe third day, we would have turned into savages. But I didn't want to worry about that right now.

Sayid tossed Sawyer an apple. No sarcastic comebacks whatsoever. Boone handed Shannon a pair of sunglasses he had repaired with a paper clip and she looked up in gratitude at her step-brother. And Michael was walking towards his son, Vincent's leash in hand and when Walt reached his dad, he stooped down to pet his dog. They both smiled at each other. Their father-son relationship was mended. All of these were happy scenes. You wouldn't really expect much of that on an island we had crashed onto, such as this one. But there it was.

In the evening, everyone began to settle down for the night. But as hard as I might, I couldn't fall asleep. I lay on my side, staring at the ocean, really wishing for rescue to come. I knew it probably wouldn't, but I could dream, couldn't I?

Suddenly, I could hear Vincent's incessant barking. He was barking at something, that I knew. I stepped out of my tent and walked closer to the dog. Practically everyone else was following suit and people began gathering in a group around Vincent. I could also hear a rustling sound coming from a large dark shape. Jack stepped out of the crowd and pulled a small flashlight out of his left breast pocket, shining it in the direction of what I found out was the largest piece of wreckage. His flashlight produced a small beam of light, but a larger beam of light appeared beside it. I looked over the whole group and found out it was Sawyer's. Jack and Sawyer both crept closer to whatever was making such a loud noise.

I had a sudden urge to start biting my nails. This moment, the tension, it reminded me of a suspenseful scene in a horror film. I never did like those kinds.

I stood there, waiting for something to happen. Waiting for the smoke monster to appear in an explosion of crushed and pushed-aside trees. Waiting for fires to erupt and consume anyone nearby and for gunfire to spit through the night, people dropping dead every few feet away. My wild and overreactive imagination was going into overdrive. I needed to get more sleep.

"Run!" Jack yelled. Everyone scattered and I'm not sure they knew why. But I wasn't going to take that chance. I could hear the high-pitched squealing that made me think of piglets. But these animals sounded like large, grown-up pigs. I ran and tripped my way to a piece of metal that stood up in the sand, diving behind it for protection.

I saw everyone running this way and that. Charlie was pushed down in someone else's haste to get away. Jack ran to his aid and they both ran to safety. Sayid helped Claire up and they ran in one direction. I saw Sawyer and Kate run in another one. Medium-sized, animal-shaped figures galloped in yet another direction, squealing all the way.

The noises died down and people came out of their not-well-thought out hiding spots. I stumbled forward and felt a warm liquid, maybe water, trickling down my arm. I looked at it and saw a small cut, probably from when I had dived behind that piece of metal. I hurriedly wiped away the blood and stood up straighter, walking to where everybody else began to gather. I know, I was a follower, not a leader. People started muttering amongst themselves.

"They're gone!"

"What the bloody hell was that?"

"What were those things?"

"What are we gonna do if they come back?"

"We're gonna kill them, stupid. That's what we're gonna do."

One man stood in front of all of us and said one word. He answered some of our questions with that one response. "Boars." It was that man with the scar over his right eye. And he was smiling.

No one could go to sleep after that. I guess it was because people were afraid that the wild boars might come back and this time they wouldn't run away, for whatever reason they did that last time. I could understand that.

I looked up to see Jack, Kate, Sayid, and Charlie walk towards one tent. Charlie had probably been hurt when he was pushed down.

I saw Boone walk by, waved at him, and he walked up and sat beside me.

"I wonder what they're talking about in there." I pointed at the tent.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Well, Charlie was pushed down when the boars went crazy. Jack's a doctor so that makes sense for them to go in there." I didn't look away from the tent. "But Kate and Sayid went in there, too. I'm pretty sure they're not all doctors." Boone nodded in agreement.

When the doctor came back out, Boone said, "Well, I guess that means Charlie's all patched up." I tiredly nodded my head.

"Hey, I think I'm gonna get some sleep. See you in the morning?" I said. We said our goodnights and I curled up on the hilly sand beneath me.

When sleepiness washed over me, I embraced it.