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Post by Isabelle Whitmore on Jun 24, 2008 13:30:57 GMT -5
Isabelle felt the sand beneath her. She hardly understood where she was but the events of the past days returned in a flurry of memories. She didn't move. Not a single inch. She just let herself feel the sand and the glowing kiss of the sun. She could almost see her brother. Her twin, Her other half, as he waited at the airport in LA to pick her up. He would be wearing a t-shirt with his resteraunt's logo and would have flowers. He always had flowers for her. She would leap at him and he would laugh and ask softly,
"Miss me?"
She could just see him now. It was then she opened her eyes almost expecting him to be there. But no. It was just a big wrekage she saw. She sat up where as she had been sprawled out before and touched her face. She felt a half healed cut running from her eyebrow down to curl slightly over her left eye and end on her cheek. a bruise started on her right forhad and disapeared under her hair as well. She put her hands down in her lap and sighed inwardly.
And then she heard it. The waltz music that she had danced to weeks before. She got up and looked around. She could even hear the people clapping as she entered the dance floor. She would take the first step and slowly drag her foot to the left. And then it would be silent. Then music! She would throw her hands in the air and her feet would move so fast it would be like flying. Isabelle tried doing the first steps and tripped on a piece of debri. It left a tear in her once white peasent skirt. She collapsed back to the ground and hugged her knees to her chest wearily. She again closed her eyes and tried to picture it. The music that is.
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Post by Eko Tunde on Jun 24, 2008 14:43:52 GMT -5
The water dragged at Eko's clothes as moved laboriously through the surf. The man's body that he was pulling only made his movement more arduous, but that was the reason he was out here in the first place. Someone had to bring the bodies of the ones they lost to shore. They could not leave them simply floating in the water to be carried away by the tide. They a proper burial, and at the very least they deserved to be laid to rest on land, rather than floating out to be lost at sea, or worse; eaten, by whatever else inhabited those ocean waters. So though the task was a long one, and he was tired, Eko took it upon himself to do this. He felt obliged to do it, as he would hope someone would have done for him, had he not made it through.
As he reached the shoreline, he moved around to the head of the victim and took the man's hands. They were cold, lifeless, but not yet fixed by the onset of rigor mortis so that they moveable. The feel of them in his own palms, so warm with life, was enough to make him want to recoil. But Eko as certainly no stranger to death. In fact, he had been a cause of it for many years, and even beyond that time he sought to bury with his bad deeds. Still, this was hard to face, for anyone. Grasping the cold flesh, he dragged the body backwards and up onto the sand, to the place where the tide would not be able to reclaim the man. After all, if that happened, all of this work would be for nothing.
As he secured the man in a safe place, alongside two other bodies he paused to take a break, resting his elbows upon his knees. His gaze shifted to the edge of the beach where the two children sat with Cindy. The boy stared at him for a moment, and then waved. Forcing a smike upon his lips, Eko returned the acknowledgement and looked away. He pitied the children for being here in the middle of this hardship. Yet he himself had suffered much hardship as a child, and once they were rescued, the children would be fine.
His gaze drifted further to a man who seemed to be doing some kind of jig among the wreckage. She tripped, though, and came to rest in the same once more. Eko stared at her for a long moment, trying to figure out what she was doing, and then hesitantly made his way toward her. "Excuse me," he said with a smile, and his thick Nigerian accent was rather pronounced. "I couldn't help noticing you here. Are you okay? Do you have any injuries?"
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Post by Isabelle Whitmore on Jun 25, 2008 14:57:16 GMT -5
Bella looked up slowly and unwrapped her arms from her legs. She stood slowly and shrugged. She didn't say it but she thought, 'who is ok now?'. She touched her bruise and scratch hesitantly. She blushed slightly remembering her unconventional dancing a few moments earlier.
"I'm fine. Just... weary."
She examined the man who had come to check on her and recognized him as the one for a few seats away on the plane. She hadn't paid much attention however. She shook her clothes to get the sand off of them.
"I'm Isabelle. Do you need help over-" ,she swallowed hard looking at the bodies, "-there?"
She didn't really want to drag bodies out of the ocean but she felt like it was only right she help out in some way. She let her eyes rest on the bodies already on shore. She thought of if she had seen them before the crash. No, she didn't recognize them. Then again the whole time she had been on the plane she had been distracted by thoughts of getting home and seeing her brother. She could see some other survivors doing things done the beach a short way. There were even a few children. She casualy brought her hand up to push back her hair. She used the other hand to pull her hair through a tie to keep it in a loose ponytail. She couldn't make the ponytail to tight or it stretched the skin on her forhead and pulled at her cut causing it to sting. She subconciously touched the cut after finishing her hair.
She could feel the sand under her feet. Her slippers had been completely ruined by the water earlier and having no baggage she was forced to walk barefoot. Not that she minded much. Her feet were calloused from dancing and so they were capable of walking over bare ground, and sand was soft anyway. It was the galss and debri you had to watch for. She held out a hand shakily to the man in a gesture of greeting.
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Post by Eko Tunde on Jun 25, 2008 21:28:31 GMT -5
Eko nodded as she explained her strange symptoms away with the simple fact that she was tired. That was easy to understand, of course, and so was any strange behavior that might arise from it. After all, they'd all just been through a huge trauma. Being shaken up wasn't in the least bit odd. In fact, he would have been more worried if people weren't reacting at all to the ordeal. If they were acting normal, as though everything was fine, it would be more unsettling.
"It is nice to meet you, Isabelle. My name is Eko." He continued to speak in his slow, calm manner that might be thought too formal by some, but for him, was his natural way of speaking. As he introduced himself, he surveyed the woman with interest. She was a good deal younger than him, that much was quite easy to tell. She was fairly thin, standing a few inches shorter than them. Dark brown hair framed the girl's face and extended far down her back. She seemed nice enough, and was apparently willing to help, despite the unpleasantness of the task. Eko could tell by the way she spoke that it wasn't one she was really looking forward to, and of course, he wasn't enjoying it either. But her understanding that it was something that needed to be done was certainly a welcome attitude to the Nigerian man. "Yes," he said nodding, though he still smiled slightly. "But I must rest first."
He walked to the side a few feet and pulled forth a bottle of water he'd stowed in the sand there while he was working. Burrying it below the surface shaded it from the heat of the sun, and helped keep it a little cooler despite the high temperature of the air. Below the gravel, it was much cooler. He twisted the cap of the bottle open and took several sips, trying to conserve as much of the precious liquid as possible. Then, wiping the sweat from his brow, he looked over at the girl again. "Your cut," he said gently, gesturing toward the one that ran down her cheek, "You should clean it out." He held the bottle of water out to her to wash it out with. "We must be careful that our injuries do not become infected."
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Post by Isabelle Whitmore on Jun 25, 2008 22:55:04 GMT -5
Bella listened to the way Eko spoke. It was very like how the judges at a contest would speak. She found it nice in a calming way. She nodded as he spoke on his need to rest and watched him take out a water bottle out from under some gravel she had noticed earlier. She wondered at this inginuity. She would not have thought of that.
She took the chance to further examine Eko. He was taller then her by far and her face tilted up a bit to look at him. He looked unwavering and steady. She would not place him as native to Australia as his bone structure was not as sharp and defined but further then that she could not place him. She observed his face when she thought he wasn't looking following the lines of his jaw. It was somthing she would normaly do to memorize someones face. She was glad he would accept her help. She couldn't just sit and let herself waste away. That was one thing she and her brother had always had in common. They both were unable to sit around doing nothing. She fondly remembered long days spent spurging the house of all clutter and orginizing things just to have somthing to do. Her brother would also teach her how to cook certain things when he was off work.
When he mentioned her cut she ran a finger lightly over it. She didn't think it would get infected but there was that chance.
"No, I couldn't use your water for this. I'll find another way to clean it. Besides the salt water will probably be good to stop infections..."[b/] She didn't feel an infection would kill her. On the other hand running out of water would. She felt the tickle of the dangling end of her torn skirt brush at her calves and glanced down. She bent and ripped the skirt untill it had a straight edge. Instead of going down to the middle of her calves it now rested at knee level. She thought this was well enough. It would be easier to move and... take care of the bodies now.
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Post by Eko Tunde on Jun 26, 2008 12:13:58 GMT -5
Eko withdrew the water bottle when she refused it, inwardly shrugging it. It was up to her how she chose to take care of her injuries, and it was not for him to dictate for her. He would imagine that the salt water would make it sting a great deal, but if that was what she wanted to do, that was fine. The cut itself didn't look too bad, and seemed to be healing well. She probably wouldn't get an infection, he simply wished to be cautious. He nodded slowly and then took another sip of water, staring out at the ocean. There were only a few bodies left floating along in the surf, and another hour of work would pull them all to shore. Then they could figure out what to do with them from there.
"Come," he said softly. "Let us go help them." He gestured toward the ocean, and then set the water bottle down, covering it once more with sand to keep it cool in the same technique he'd used before. Then he headed down toward the shoreline. The clothes Eko was wearing were not exactly ideal for the situation, like Isabelle's. He was still wearing the black pants and white linen shirt that he had been wearing when the plane left the airport, but he'd shed the jacket to allow for a broader range of movement. Not only that, but it was extremely hot out here when the run rose high enough in the sky, and black wasn't exactly the best color to be wearing when one wished to remain cool. He supposed that was the good thing about this work that he was now doing. It constantly submerged him in the ocean water, which protected him from the heat of the day.
Eko dove into the water as the tide pulled away from the sand. With his strong arms, he paddled his way out into the water, while his eyes scanned for the nearest person. Once he found one, he locked his gaze upon them so that he would not lose site of them in the surf. Eko was a decent swimmer. He'd never properly had lessons, as bodies of water were scarce where he grew up. But once he moved to England, from there on out he had plently of opportunity to swin and acquaint himself with the water. His natural athleticism and strength allowed him to pick up the skill rather easily.
As Eko neared the body, he grasped it beneath its arms like he would do for a drowning man, and then began to swim back to shore. This one was a woman, her blond hair fanning out in the water. What was once a warm, living, breathing person now resembled nothing more than a lifesized porcelain doll; still, unmoving, and beautiful. Eko turned his gaze away from her, unable to look at her any longer. This was a task he would do, but did not in any way enjoy. He reached the beach and waved Isabelle over to him. "Here," he said, laying the woman on on the sand after the tide rushed out. "Bring her over with the others." It was stranger, to talk about a person who was lying next to you as if they weren't even there.
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Post by Isabelle Whitmore on Jun 26, 2008 21:05:36 GMT -5
Isabelle nodded as Eko put the water bottle away and headed out to the surf. "Okay..." she said softly following him to the shore. She stood ankle deep as he swam out for a body. She saw the blond woman and had a flash of memory. She had sat next to this woman who was now dead. She stood still a moment longer looking at her. The light blue tint around the lips the weathered clothes hanging of the palid body. As Isabelle leaned down to drag the body in she shuddered inwardly at the feel of the clammy skin. She lifted the woman into her arms like a child would a rag-doll. Isabelle carried her to the other bodies and lay her down. She murmered a brief prayer. She wasn't particularly religious but it seemed the least she could do.
"May you be in a better place." Isabelle whispered. If at any point she realized she had begun to cry she showed no sign of it. She turned solemnly and returned to the ocean's edge. She could feel the cool water lap at her feet gentle. She didn't remember it being so gentle during the crash. She could almost feel the pressure of the water during that moment she had been trapped in the tail section. She had fought to get her belt loose. She had finaly succeeded and burst toward the surface for desperately needed air. She couldn't help but wonder, had that woman been next to her in that moment? Had she needed help that Isabelle had not noticed in her own selfish desire to escape? it almost seemed like a replay of some dreadfull horror movie, and while Isabelle played the events over and over in her mind she could not remember. She glanced at the floating bodies still in the water but then quickly looked at her feet instead to distract her enough so that her stomach would not rebel. She angrily swiped the fresh tears that had started and bent down to scoop some salt water into her palms. She washed her face with it and winced as it reached her cut.
It was then that she noticed somthing glimmer slightly under a bit of sand. She picked it up and weakly smiled. She clasped the neckalace around her neck. It was a small tigereye pendent she had gotten a few years ago. It had been her 'good luck charm'. It hadn't brought much luck. She hated herself for the small bit of elation the trinket brought her reminding herself people were dead and that she should feel only sorrow. She instantly erased the smile and looked back out at Eko waiting for the next Body. She couldn't decide which was worse, the feeling of relief that she felt at being alive or the cold dread she felt well inside her at this island.
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Post by Eko Tunde on Jun 30, 2008 0:11:20 GMT -5
After handing the dead woman off to Isabelle, Eko swam back out into the water to scour for another body. He could find only one more, a man floating with the top half of his horizontal body atop the water, and the rest of him hidden beneath. The rest of the dead had either already been rescued from the watery grave, or had either been carried away by the current or into its depths by chungs of the sunken wreckage. There was a good chance that the latter had happened a great deal; after all, objects with the weight of a metal plane weren't likely to sit on the surface of the water for long. There was no telling how many people might have been caught in the hot, twisted metal carcass of the tail, and they would never truly know how many of them had died.
He grabbed the last body beneath his arms and dragged him back through the water. Eko's muscles threatened to cramp, and he was growing tired from the day's exertions. But he knew he had only to make it back to the beach one last time, and he would be finished with this work. Then, they must decide what to do with all of the bodies. They could not simply leave them piled on the beach, as that would draw too much possibility of disease, or worse: wild animals. They would have to either bury them, taking the time to dig that many graves, or else have a mass crematorial ceremony for them. He could not judge which of these methods would be worse to have to perform.
The man neared the shore, ready for Isabelle to relieve him of the burden of the body, when he saw a sight that made him immediately forget that plan. There was a wetness on the girl's face, that he knew was not from the spray of the ocean. She was... she was crying. Eko frowned. Laboriously, he hauled the dead man with his water-logged clothing up above the shoreline, and then made his way back toward the girl. He hardly knew what to do to comfort her; emotions weren't really his specialty, nor was he much a conversationalist. But he knew he must say something. "Did you know this woman?" He asked gently, indicating the one he'd brought to shore a few moments earlier. He himself did not really recognize any of the bodies, but he also hadn't been paying much attention on the plane.
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Post by Isabelle Whitmore on Jul 3, 2008 19:21:27 GMT -5
Isabelle glanced up as Eko walked over noticing he had pulled out the last of the still floating dead bodies. She made no motion to wipe her tears, however she blinked to stop future ones. She smiled weakly knowing just about anyone could see through her failing exuse of a facade. She shook her head softly.
"No, I didn't. Not really anyway..." Isabelle said turning to the body Eko had just dragged out. She didn't recognize the distorted and bloated face but she had to blink back a few more tears. She hustled over to him and picked the heavy corpse up dragging him back to the others placing him next to the woman. She figured they had an hour before they started to swell and smell in the sun but then again it could be more or less. She didn't deal with dead bodies very often.
"We should do somthing. They can't just be left to rot now that we have worked to get them up. We also should consider the children. They have been scarred quite enough." She said in a hoarse whispery tone. She took a nervous glance at the children who were still quite far away and had not seen the grousome sight of up to seven bodies lying on the hot sand. Isabelle's cut itched but she ignored it. Partly because she didn't want to make it worse and also because she didn't want her hands to touch her face after touching the bodies. She could feel herself push away her emotions and lock them up for later. Later, she told herself. I will break down later.
"I've gone my whole life hearing about the terrible things that happen to people. I lived in Miami! But not once did I ever exspect to find myself in this kind of situation. It was somthing that happened to other people. Sad, but would never happen to me. Silly, huh?" Isabelle gave Eko a wry look and hugged herself around the waist letting her hands dangle uselessly.
((ooc: Sorry it took me a while to post but I was having computer troubles.))
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Post by Eko Tunde on Jul 13, 2008 22:42:54 GMT -5
Eko watched Isabelle closely. Though she said she did not know the woman, he thought that her reaction seemed a bit strong to be that impersonal. There was something in the words that she trailed off with that suggested that while Isabelle might not know the dead woman all that well, there was something about her that she knew. Be it a brief meeting, or just a quality that the woman shared with someone Isabelle actually did know, Eko thought it seemed like there was some sort of connection. But he was not about to press her for details. Her grief was obvious in the glimmer of her unchecked tears.
Isabelle was clearly shaken, and Eko longed to do something to calm her. He wished that he knew how to reach out to her, to speak words that would let her know that everything would be alright. He was not sure he quite believed that himself--he'd always been a realist, not an optimist--but a little hope and good feeling would do wonders for the young woman's spirit. Her grief at the death around her was obvious, and she was probably feeling the same shock that most of the survivors were. After all, they'd all just been in a plane crash. People were dead all around them, as was evident by the bodies they were now pulling out of the ocean. That task in itself was enough to shake anyone. He knew he ought not to have brought her down here to help, but he did not know that it would affect her so. Eko wished he was better at lending emotional support, so that he could help ease the pain of this woman. But she was relatively a stranger to him, and he did not know how to do so.
"Yes, you are right," he said quietly, nodding at her words. They were full of unfortunate truth. The bodies could not simply be left lying here on the beach to decay. Within a few hours, the smell would start to become obvious. The bodies would swell with their internal fluids and the sun would cause them to rot faster. It was enough to sicken the stomach of any grown person, and enough to scar the children more than the things they had already endured. The bodies could not be burried; that would take far too long, and it was no guarantee that they could not be dug up by whatever other creatures inhabited this place. It the corpses were not disposed of, disease could also become a problem. If they were rescued soon, none of this would matter. But that was a huge if. There was only one option, really. The bodies must be cremated. As much as he hated to deny these people a resting place in the earth, there was no helping it. Their souls would already be on their way to the next step of their life's journey; their earthly flesh could suffer no more than it already had, and the flames would not pain them.
Eko thought that he could at least spare the woman this unpleasant reality. Certainly many would be shocked by the suggestion of burning them. He would attend to it himself. He would pray for their souls, and for their loved ones, but still people would not understand. He did not want Isabelle to have to contemplate this horror until absolutely necessary, so he resolved not to tell her. "I will take care of this," he said softly. "Do not trouble over it. You have done much for them already."
Eko listened to her next words passively, at least on the surface. But internally, they stirred emotions and memories within him. Unlike her, he had not simply heard about terrible things. He had lived them. He had caused them. Eko had committed murder, many times. He had taken the lives of many men, most often to save himself or those that he cared about, but sometimes it was simply because he could. He was ashamed of these instances now, and they were a secret that he kept carefully. But he had experienced personal hardship as well, and this plane crash seemed only one in a chain of misfortunes he'd endured throughout his lifetime. It was difficult to relate to Isabelle, there. "No one does," he said gently, trying his best to sympathize with her. "We are placed in the hands of a being greater than all of us. No one could expect this, and no one expects you to go on as if there was not great tragedy. All that we can do, is make the best of the lot we are given." ooc; no need to apologize! I've been struggling with inspiration so I'm sorry it took so long, but I hope this makes up for it
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Post by Isabelle Whitmore on Jul 14, 2008 0:32:46 GMT -5
Isabelle listened to him and let her breatheing ease. She kept her gaze steadily on the ground away from the bodies. However, this put her hands in her view and she didn't wish to see those either. She turned her face upwards fixing her eyes on Eko instead. She concentrated on what he was saying and not the desire to run into the jungle and hide under a rock. She nodded gravely. She had never been a very religious person and her church visitations were limited to christmas with her parents. She never had felt anything in the big church. She always sat still and said the prayers with everyone else but had never scensed the big prescence everyone talked about. She had seen church through the eyes of a skeptical child. A large room where one had to sit and be bored. 'And this is my punishment...' she told herself. She had taken her life for granted and now she was on some god forsaken island.
Make the best of it... She could not see the silver lining to this terrible cloud. She couldn't help but feel like there was no way to make the situation better. They could only survive and hope it did not get worse. She felt an itch in her hand and had the sudden desire to wash them in bleach, ammonia, anything to get the lingering feel of death off of them. She let them twitch slightly and hugged herself tighter.
"We can't take the time to bury them can we?"
She asked although she was pretty sure she knew the answer. She was almost glad of this though. She had never liked the idea of burial. She could just imagine being buried in a box to rot. Just another corpse in the ground. Plus, by the time they had two bodies buried the others would all rot. She felt a twinge of kindness towards the man who told her she could go and that she didn't have to help.
"Nonsense. You'll need the extra pair of hands."
She couldn't make out what was going through Eko's mind but she knew that he was probably just another person who had been pulled from their life by some cruel twist of fate. She let her eyes wander again to the bodies. She felt her hands twitch again. She shook her head to clear her mind which had held a slight fuzzy feeling since the crash.
"How are we going to do this anyway?"
She wasn't used to death in general and the only way she had experienced it was when she was 6 and her grandmother died. She remembered the funeral and how it had been an open casket. She had hated that. People talking and eating while nana lay not ten feet away cold and unmoving. She had thought that the worst thing she would ever witness, but now she stood connected. She now knew there were much worse things then looking upon a cleaned up dead person. Like looking at seven decaying ones.
((ooc: No worries! With a post like that you could take forever. XD))
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Post by Eko Tunde on Jul 15, 2008 23:35:54 GMT -5
"We can't take the time to bury them can we?"
If Eko were the type to show more of his emotions more openly, he probably would have winced at these words. He had been hoping to spare Isabelle the unpleasant truth of the matter, but he suspected she was probably smart enough that she'd already jumped to the logical conclusion. No, they couldn't take the time to bury them. Well, more like they didn't have the time. The process would simply take too long, and Eko doubted they could get enough volunteers to help them dig the graves to make the process worth it. It would days, and accomplish nothing other than wearing them all out and exposing them further to the possibility of disease from the rotting flesh. No, Isabelle was correct. They could not take the time to bury them all.
She responded that she wanted to help, that he needed to extra pair of hands, and that was not really something Eko could truthfully argue with. He dide need the help, because as of this moment it was just the two of them on the funeral committee. Still, Eko didn't want to burden her with it. He surveyed the girl through his dark irises, trying and failing to get a sense of what she might be feeling beneath the surface, what her true stance on this issue might be. It was entirely possible that she was simply volunteering so he wouldn't think her weak, and if that were the case he didn't want her to force herself to help. "Thank you," Eko said his slow, calm voice. "But you need not do this unless you feel up to it. You have done much already."
Deciding that he might as well rest, Eko lowered his body down and took a seat upon the soft ground. Particles of sand clung to his wet clothing, but he hardles noticed, as his mind was preoccupied. Besides, the sun was hot enough so that his sodden garments were already beginning to dry just the slightest bit, and it probably wouldn't take long in the oppressive sunlight for the moisture to be removed entirely.
How were they going to do with? Well, that was a very good question. He himself was actually not quite sure. He supposed there were two options here. The first was to hold a sort of meeting that night, and vote as a group to decide what to do with the bodies. But Eko was afraid of this option. He worried that the survivors might let their sense of civilized culture undermine their better judgement. He expected the idea of cremation would not go over well with a bunch of people whose families had been practicing burial for generations. And they would protest on the grounds that relatives of the deceased were not here to decide, and might want to have the bodies when they were rescued. But that would only be IF they were rescued, which was become a more remote possibility by the hour. And then there was option number two, which Eko favored, in which they would simply take the initiative and do the deed without question, so that there was no room for debate or fear. It would be better that way. Sometimes people were not in the capacity to make choices, and you had to do it for them.
"We will have to cremate them," Eko said softly. His gaze was distant, as was his voice, as if lost in thought. He wondered what Yemi would think of this. Would he consider it proper, or would he consider it to be defilement of the dead? But that did not matter now. All he could do here was the make the decision that seemed right. "We do not want to raise a panic, and resistance. Some people will not understand."
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Post by Isabelle Whitmore on Jul 16, 2008 1:40:11 GMT -5
Isabelle listened to him carefuly weighing his words. She took a seat as well with her legs crossed and her hands folded on her lap. She felt the sun beat down on the top of her head so that it felt vaguely uncomfortable. She ignored his last attempt to free her of the dirty task of dealing with the bodies. She appreciated his try but once Isabelle got her head around somthing there was no changing her mind. She flicked her head slightly to one side to get a stray piece of hair out of her face. Her eyes flicked in a nervous pattern around them. She glanced at the other survivors and agreed with Eko's logic. A fight would be bad and not doing anything would be worse.
"Your right. That's the only solution. But... how will we do it without drawing attention. I highly doubt they'll believe we're making a bonfire to roast marshmellows."
She winced at her own wry humor. She scolded herself. That wasn't somthing to do in a situation like this. It was somthing her brother would say being the tactless person he is. All chances of witty banter were destroyed when talking to Edward. He would ruin it. His bold and unabashed statements were usualy funny but Isabelle could remember some times when it had gotten them into some bad situations. Isabelle had always wished she had shared some of Edwards bravery though. It would be nice if she could be courageous for once. But alas, such was not her nature.
"Sorry, that wasn't nescessary..."
She apologized to Eko not wanting anything to come of her ill-thought joke. She glanced again at the other survivors down the beach as if waiting for one to march over and call her out. She shrunk a bit into herself. She moved her hands from their position on her lap to bury them partialy in the warm sand. It might have been a randome thought that happened to float into her already fuzzy mind but Isabelle couldn't help but notice how fine the sand was. It was nice. She again scolded herself. At this hour and with this disaster and she was thinking about the quality of sand. She must have hit her head harder then she thought. She reached up self-conciously to her forhead in reflex to this idea. She fingered the cut and probed the bruise slightly wincing.
She let her hand drop again and tried to focus on Eko. in the middle of the chaos he reminded her of a sturdy rock. She just had to focus on him and she could stay above the haze that threatened to engulf her. Focus... focus... She told herself although she tried to remain calm appearence wise. She knew at this point impressions were not her top priority but if he scensed she was slightly disoriented he might ask her to lye down and she was not some invalid who needed help. She was just as useful as all the others... just a bit crazier some might say, and with slight neurotic tendencies.
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