Lost

Chapter 20

"Wait. Let me get this straight," I say, my tone incredulous, "you think...that Bradley doesn't love you."

"Um...yeah." Her voice falters.

"He's been breaking at the seams ever since you told him you don't remember him!" I can't help but fight for Bradley's obvious feelings, "you were the first thing he asked about when he popped up on this island! He's freaked out to me a few times, asking how to talk to you without seriously creeping you out!"

"But," Rachel sighs in the pitch darkness, "he has his memories, which is suspicious. Why does only he have his memories? What if he made it all up?"

"That's kinda impossible," I reason. I shouldn't be sticking my nose into their business but I'm one of those many helpless idiots who believe in the survival of true love. "How did he know there was a Rachel on the island as soon as he got to shore?"

Rachel is silent, contemplating.

"What if...what if..." There's a catch in my throat but I'm obviously once again far from tears.

"The only reason he has memories of you, is because he carried them around in his heart, not his mind."

My voice is soft and trembling. Will these be the last important words Rachel will ever hear?

"...you sound like you're about to cry." Rachel sniffles beside me, quite obviously in tears, "I thought you said you didn't do that."

"I'm not. I can't." I state, not wanting to go on talking about it any further.

Something about this topic makes me stiff and uncomfortable....I wonder why.

"We might not ever see daylight again." Rachel whispers, sniffing loudly.

I jump a little as a warm hand encloses my small, perpetually cold one.

"How do you do it?" I lay my head against the packed dirt wall.

"Do what?" I can hear the slight sound of tears falling from Rachel's face and landing on the ground.

"How do you stay so strong and at the same time, weak? I'm practically a robot so I don't count, but you are so strong. You're sitting here and you're not absolutely freaking out. But at the same time you're silently crying. Most people would be screaming, hyperventilating or just generally going crazy but you're..." I pause, trying to find the right words to explain her, "you're just accepting fate. Sure you're crying, but it's almost like you're okay with staying down here forever."

"You think you're a robot?" Rachel ignores my long speech, her soft hand never leaving mine.

"I go through life without feeling much," I attempt to explain, "well...I feel so, so much but it's like I can't really let it out. I can't cry. I'm not sure why exactly. I can't really show much emotion. Even now my voice is emotionless."

"Maybe something happened in your lost life that made you to act like this." Rachel suggests. She sniffs again.

Pain swells in my chest at the mention of my past life. It's like all of my memories are on the tip of my tongue but I can't quite say them. But it doesn't mean that my life back home (wherever that is) doesn't still hurt me. It effects every aspect of my being for reasons I can't quite comprehend.

I feel a headache coming on.

"You know...you talk a lot more when you're with one person. In a group you barely say anything unless you have an idea." Rachel comments.

"It must have something to do with the fact that we're stuck in a tiny hole ten feet underground. If I stayed silent, it would be really awkward." I mutter, my voice muffled as I lay my head on my arms.

The truth is, my brain can never stay silent and sometimes I find myself letting it out all on one person in a huge tidal wave.

"You're also surprisingly sarcastic. Not as sarcastic as Reed was..." Rachel trails off.

"Right." I stand up fast but my extreme hunger makes me dizzy and I am forced to plant both hands on the packed walls.

I suddenly grow aware that this hole is only three feet by three feet, at the most.

Don't think about it Ava, it'll only make you feel more claustrophobic than you already are.

Of course that only makes me think about it more.

I needed to get out of there and fast.

"Are you okay?" Rachel asked, still sitting on the floor.

"No." I didn't bother to mince words.

I pressed my fingers to the bridge of my nose, focusing on the light pressure. I needed to think of a plan. I wasn't going down without a fight. Beside me, Rachel began cracking her fingers with loud, satisfying pops.

Snap

Crack

Crack

"Rachel. Is that a habit of yours?" I asked with a groan.

"Yeah. So?" She continued cracking her fingers.

"It's incredibly annoying!" A small idea was wriggling in the back of my mind, but Rachel was ruining everything.

"So...what are you doing?" Rachel forgot about her fingers, thankfully.

"Thinking." Was my only response. I get really frustrated and annoyed when people interrupt my thought process.

"You seem to think a lot." Rachel cracked one last finger.

"Yeah. Shhh." I hushed her.

She was acting a little immature, which was surprising since I had at first thought she was a serious, if nice, girl.

She began cracking her fingers again.

Think. Don't listen to her. Think.

You're a robot, remember?

I gave up on concentrating and grabbed both her hands.

"Wow. Someone's skipping the love confession and heading straight to the I do's." Rachel laughed, struggling to pull her hands away.

That was the maturity levels here, ladies and gentlemen.

"I said a was thinking." I felt a great deal of anger but my voice remained somewhat calm and...robotic.

Wow. I really was a robot.

"What are you thinking of?" Rachel relaxed and I let go of her hands.

I didn't answer.

"Do you know a way out of this mess, Sherlock?" Rachel taunted.

A slow smile spread across my face, invisible in the darkness.

"Elementary, my dear Watson."