The Island

The Records

"Yeah well, she's clearly way different than anyone."

It takes me a minute to register where I am. My whole body aches and everything feels sore. I'm too weak to move, so I sit silently to listen to the voices.

"We still don't know what happened, but it wasn't right," someone says, and I recognize Amare's voice.

"We should just get rid of her," Natty spits. "She's no use to us, she puts us all in peril."

I slowly shift my head to look in the direction of the conversation so that they don't see me. They still don't know I'm awake. Judging by how dark it is outside, it must be decently late.

"What do you think's gonna happen if we get rid of her, huh?" Gregory adds. His voice is eager. 

"We'll die idiot. They clearly like her and if we kill her we'll be slaughtered."

Natasha looks like she's ready to pounce on Gregory, but he stares her down with a glare just as menacing.

"Let's wait and see," Jack says. He looks at me, but he doesn't seem to notice that I'm awake. "Kiara's been through alot already, let's see what she has to say."

The events from last night replay in my head. I remember my stomach being stabbed. Why am I not dead? I look down at my stomach, and to my surprise, it looks completely normal, as if nothing had ever touched it in the first place.

"Gosh," I whisper to myself.

"She's awake guys," Amare says. "Let's give her some space."

This time I open my eyes welcoming the light that comes in. I sit up from the couch. My head's pounding, but it's only a little headache. I look at the doorway just in time to see Natasha send me a worried look. Everyone leaves except for Jack, who leans beside the window staring out into the darkness. For a few minutes, we just sit in silence, both looking at the darkness outside and letting the fire warm us up. It's nice, not having to listen to anything worrisome and just... think for once.

"Are you okay?" He finally asks.

I saw it from a mile away. I look down at my hands to avoid looking into his iridescent blue eyes. I notice bandages wrapped tightly around my hands, covering cuts. They must've been slashed after the event happened. I curse to myself when Jack walks over and sits beside me. He's sitting close enough that I can feel his body heat.

"Can I see them?" He asks pointing to my hands.

No, just leave me alone.

But that doesn't come out, in fact no sound does. I simply nod and let him craddle my hands.

He runs his fingers over the bandage, and I flinch.

"Does it hurt?" he asks, his voice calm and reassuring. My heart leaps when I hear him speak.

"Yeah," I respond my voice shaky. "A little."

His fingers follow the gauze fabric until he reaches the metal clip.

"Can I?" He asks.

No, don't let him Kiara.

Once again, I nod. He starts unwrapping the fabric from my hands. Under it, I can see the slashes have been scabbed over already. Dried blood paints the palms of my hands ad if a five year old tried to draw something on me.

"How did it happen?" I ask.

He looks into my eyes, and I can't help looking away. Natasha would hate us talking with each other. I look back at the palms of my hands to identify where the slashes could've come from. Jack stands up and walks away from the bench, and the tightness in my chest relaxes. He paces towards a bucket of cold water by the fire, meant to put the flames to sleep. He dips a cloth in it and walks back over. Jack sits beside me this time leaning over my hand, wiping it in damp cloth. It stings a little, but not as much as the sensation of Jack being this close to me. Every time he touches my hand, a feeling runs through my body, but I don't know what it is.