On the third day on the island, Ana had been looking for her bags, for something to wear. She hadn't found hers, so she decided to use someone else's. She opened a suitcase, marked with the name 'Shannon' and she knew that there was no Shannon that survived the crash there. And in her suitcase she found a cute blue blouse that she wore that day.

Ana fingered the blue fabric carefully before glancing far along down the beach where Shannon was now sitting, telling everyone who came close to her to go away. She sighed deeply before walking over to the blonde girl watching the sun set.

"Shannon?"

Her neck snapped around and her eyes were full of hate. "What?"

Ana sat down next to her before pulling the folded shirt out of her pocket. "I-I found this, when we crashed, and it had your name on it. So I was wondering if you wanted it back."

Shannon barely looked down at the shirt. "You wore it?"

"Yeah, like, twice," Ana answered.

"Keep it," Shannon said sourly.

Ana prevented herself from rolling her eyes. "Look, if you hate my germs or whatever, it's washed. Washed it in the hatch earlier today." Shannon said nothing. "I'm just trying to do something nice for you, so the least you could do, is take it."

"Actually, the least I could do is telling you to keep it because I don't want it, and that's what I'm doing," Shannon said, staring back out into the sunset again.

Ana did roll her eyes now. She could've shot anyone, anyone else and she wouldn't have had this much trouble. "What is wrong with you? Do you seriously think I did it on purpose?"

"You know what I think of you doing something nice for me?" Shannon said, ignoring the questions. She yanked the shirt out of Ana's hands and tore it in half. "There."

Ana felt insulted. "Fine, I'm sorry I asked."

"At least there's one thing you're sorry for," Shannon muttered, but loud enough so Ana could hear her perfectly.

Ana sighed and got up to leave. When she turned around she purposely kicked sand up that hit Shannon's back and hair.

"Hey!" Shannon exclaimed. "You got sand all over my shirt."

"Then why don't you wear that one?" Ana asked bitterly, nodding towards the torn up shirt.

Shannon quickly picked up a rock in the sand and threw it at Ana. "Ow, damn it, what's wrong with you?" Ana said angrily, clutching her forehead.

"Get out of here," Shannon said tearfully.

"If you don't want me around," Ana began. "Then why don't you leave?"

"I was here first," Shannon protested defiantly.

"You sound like a 3 year old," Ana said. "Get over it. You're here, aren't you?"

"Barely, almost died a while ago, didn't you hear?" Shannon growled angrily.

"I'm sorry!" Ana shouted without thinking. People near to them looked over, and Shannon stared at her in shock.

"What?" Shannon said quietly.

"You're pathetic," Ana said. "I was just trying to protect my people! We were taking your unconscious friend up a hill, so we didn't notice that one of our people vanished! Gone. Just like the kids. And then the whispers came. The whispers that always meant they were around. It was raining. And you came running through the bushes, I didn't really think to ask, 'Oh, is she from your side of the plane?'"

Shannon looked in disbelief. "They took your people?"

"Haven't seen them since," Ana said shakily.

Shannon was quiet for a moment, looking at the sand. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Ana said softly before turning around and walking away.

Shannon stared at the ocean again. She hadn't ever heard that much of the story before. Mostly people just told her it was an accident. She never heard anything about the Others.

And she believed the story. She had heard the whispers too, right before she and Sayid saw Walt. And suddenly she wished Ana was still there, so she could ask if they saw Walt too.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Now Ana had other things to worry about. The man in the hatch, Henry Gale, had tried to kill her that morning. And now she was outside Sawyer's tent, yelling at him so she could get a gun and get her revenge.

"Just give me a gun!" Ana shouted.

"I'm trying to read," he mumbled and turned a page in his book. Frustrated, Ana yanked it out of his hands and threw it down, placing her foot on top of it forcefully. "Hey!" Sawyer yelled, trying to pull it out. "Gimme my book back."

"Not until you give me a gun," Ana said.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, muchacha, but I remember the last time you having a gun in your hands, Sticks was almost killed," Sawyer said casually. "Trying to finish the job now?"

Ana removed her shoe for one second off of his book to step on his hand. He yelped in pain. "Now what was that for?"

"I thought I told you a long time ago," Ana began forcefully. "That whatever I tell you to do, you do it. Remember? You failed last time. I'm giving you another chance. I tell you to run, you run. I tell you to stop, you stop. I tell you to give me a gun-."

"I tell you to shove one up your-."

"Why don't you just give her a gun, Sawyer?"

They both turned to the newcomer. Shannon stood with her hands in her pockets and staring at Sawyer.

"You on her side?"

"You don't have to be defiant just for the sake of being defiant," Shannon went on, not answering his question.

"Now I may have failed math, but something doesn't add up here," Sawyer said, confused. "You plus her plus a gun equals bad times, Sticks."

"Sawyer," Shannon began warily, but he interrupted.

"Fine, I'll get your damn gun," Sawyer mumbled. He took one off of his belt and handed it to Ana, who checked if it was loaded. "Now may I go back to my reading?"

Ana started walking away, leaving the book in the sand. "Thanks," she muttered when she passed Shannon.