Write about something you know by heart
He isn't sure if he can't move or just doesn't want to. He doesn't think about it. Jack simply stares into the ocean, watching the waves lap against each other like they had always done. Tired legs hold for as long as they can, but they, just like everything else these days, give way. Jack drops to his knees and instantly his water soaked jeans become caked with sand.
As he gently sinks into the ground, his eyes drop to a single wave as it rushes toward him with the tide. The sea has always been something to regard with caution, but it has never looked more unforgiving than the moment it washed four life jackets to land.
By every right, the one person who should have filled one of these was Sayid. Even though he knew exactly what had happened, Jack half expected the Iraqi to impossibly swim to shore, once again proving his fortitude. Through burning and blinking eyes, Jack faced the water determinedly, wanting to have his spoken declaration be shown wrong. Ever since September 22, 2004, Sayid was one of the few people Jack could put his absolute faith in, even though he knew the other didn't always do the same - a testament to the other's favor. Jack would never have labeled them as friends the way he and Marc had been, but he knew that without the soldier's camaraderie, he wouldn't have kept a third of his relative sanity. And right now as he faced reality, that sanity was slipping fast.
Lapidus. Frank was supposed to be their ticket home, the pilot who would fly the plane into the sunset and leave everything behind for good. The bottom of the sea was no place for a man who favored the sky. His mind's eye instantly flashed to a memory burned in his mind. There Frank was, happiest as he had ever been, clasping Jack's hand in a friendly shake before takeoff. They had never made it to Guam.
And then Jack was reminded of his promise, a promise that he had ended up breaking like he had so many times before. With all sincerity he had vowed to help Sun find her husband and once that happened he was going to see to it that together Sun and Jin left to raise their daughter. Jack remembered looking her in the eye and holding her hand in solidarity. Everything was going to be ok. They clung to a stupid tomato as a symbol of hope, and Jack had the nerve to ask Sun to trust him.
She did. They all did. Sayid, Frank, Sun, Jin and everyone before. Once again he was closing Boone's once clear blue eyes closed. Once again he was asking Hurley to say a few words to the survivors about Libby. On and on it went, with no memory any easier than the last. Charlie.
Locke.
Juliet.
No one had told the tomato it was expected to die, and it lived. No one had ever told these people they had to die either, and yet they did. The blood on his hands was too much, and no symbol in the world could justify his responsibility with regards to their fate.
Everything was escalating so fast with even more lives at stake. Hurley had committed no crime greater than winning the lottery. Claire was his sister who needed to come home to her mother, to her son. With labored, shortened breath he attempted to push away unwelcome mental images, yet with every rush of the tide they once again flooded his thoughts.
Jack could never make things right. He had already tried with disastrous results. Instead of doing what was right, he was going to do what was needed. And if things worked as he hoped they would, the only cost of life would be his own.
As he gently sinks into the ground, his eyes drop to a single wave as it rushes toward him with the tide. The sea has always been something to regard with caution, but it has never looked more unforgiving than the moment it washed four life jackets to land.
By every right, the one person who should have filled one of these was Sayid. Even though he knew exactly what had happened, Jack half expected the Iraqi to impossibly swim to shore, once again proving his fortitude. Through burning and blinking eyes, Jack faced the water determinedly, wanting to have his spoken declaration be shown wrong. Ever since September 22, 2004, Sayid was one of the few people Jack could put his absolute faith in, even though he knew the other didn't always do the same - a testament to the other's favor. Jack would never have labeled them as friends the way he and Marc had been, but he knew that without the soldier's camaraderie, he wouldn't have kept a third of his relative sanity. And right now as he faced reality, that sanity was slipping fast.
Lapidus. Frank was supposed to be their ticket home, the pilot who would fly the plane into the sunset and leave everything behind for good. The bottom of the sea was no place for a man who favored the sky. His mind's eye instantly flashed to a memory burned in his mind. There Frank was, happiest as he had ever been, clasping Jack's hand in a friendly shake before takeoff. They had never made it to Guam.
And then Jack was reminded of his promise, a promise that he had ended up breaking like he had so many times before. With all sincerity he had vowed to help Sun find her husband and once that happened he was going to see to it that together Sun and Jin left to raise their daughter. Jack remembered looking her in the eye and holding her hand in solidarity. Everything was going to be ok. They clung to a stupid tomato as a symbol of hope, and Jack had the nerve to ask Sun to trust him.
She did. They all did. Sayid, Frank, Sun, Jin and everyone before. Once again he was closing Boone's once clear blue eyes closed. Once again he was asking Hurley to say a few words to the survivors about Libby. On and on it went, with no memory any easier than the last. Charlie.
Locke.
Juliet.
No one had told the tomato it was expected to die, and it lived. No one had ever told these people they had to die either, and yet they did. The blood on his hands was too much, and no symbol in the world could justify his responsibility with regards to their fate.
Everything was escalating so fast with even more lives at stake. Hurley had committed no crime greater than winning the lottery. Claire was his sister who needed to come home to her mother, to her son. With labored, shortened breath he attempted to push away unwelcome mental images, yet with every rush of the tide they once again flooded his thoughts.
Jack could never make things right. He had already tried with disastrous results. Instead of doing what was right, he was going to do what was needed. And if things worked as he hoped they would, the only cost of life would be his own.