Isabelle's Journal

[Isabelle Whitmore]

September 23
Days on the Island-1

It happened so quickly. I can hardly remember most of the crash but I do recall the horrifying struggle to unlatch my seatbelt so I could escape the plane. There were more survivors but many people died.

To think... I was on my way home. People around seem to expect a rescue any day now. I don't. Then again Edward used to say I was pessimistic. We are on some strange island. The place gives me shudders. I don't like the feel of the surrounding jungle and don't like to stray far from the beach.

I met one of the other survivors this morning. He was dragging the bodies from the water. I helped him. I hope never to have to touch another dead person for the rest of my life. The other survivor's name was Mr.Eko. He seemed the decent sort. He was pulling the bodies out of the water. I helped...

During that... task, I saw the woman who had been next to me... I couldn't help but wonder that by not helping her did I condem her to death? Or was it innevitable? It haunts me.

All I can wish for is for that undeniably slim chance that help does arrive. Help that will take me home to my twin and my other half. To my Edward.

Isabelle

[Isabelle Whitmore]

September 24
Days on the Island-2

Last night... what more can I say? I woke up this morning with my head aching somthing fierce. All I remember were those figures running in and taking off. And then nothing. I must have hit my head because my bruise from the crash was bigger and my cut reopened.

I threw up. In the bushes. It was probably because of the nauscious feeling in my head. It doesn't worry me much. What does worry me is what I heard while I was in the bushes. It was Ana-Lucia. She said "If they see blood they'll panic." I can only shudder to think what she meant. I am sure she was talking to Mr.Eko. I do not think I wish to know any more.

It is this that makes me long to be home. This uncertainty that causes nagging thoughts in the back of my mind. if Edward were here he would banish these fears filling my head with his foolish optimism. But now I must stop writting for I fear if I take much longer my tears will fall onto the page and blur the ink. With ink and paper as such a precious comodity I must save it up. I will write later when I can bear it.

Isabelle

[Isabelle Whitmore]

September 25
Days on island-3

My head hurts. I can't really think straight. i tried looking at it myself to guess what was wrong but the bruise on my forhead extends to far back into my hairline to see much. I can't sleep either. I can't tell if it's because of my head or what I think might happen if I let my guard down.

I'm dizzy. I want it to go away. To wake up from the nightmare. I want my Edward. I want alot of things. Somehow I just don't see me getting them.

Isabelle