Escaping the Lost Island (working title)

Epilogue Part 2

Everything came back slowly. For the first few months, there were many times when I wished I'd died on that island. But as I relearned the basics of civilian life, I began to experience things again. I distinctly remember walking outside one morning and noticing dozens of delicate little clover flowers sprouting up through the grass. They had probably been growing on our lawn for at least a week but now was the first time I was really seeing them.

There was never one big moment when I "was back". It came in waves; biting into a fresh slice of watermelon, smelling my sweatshirt after a bonfire, feeling the sticky sap on my fingers after climbing the tree that had been growing in our yard since I was born. Just little things that reminded me I was happy to be alive.

I should probably mention all of the media attention my fellow survivors and I received upon our return. Within my first week home, three news crews had stopped by my house for a story. Despite my refusal to give an interview, the media was more than happy to present their speculations as fact. I must confess that there were some days when I cheered myself up by watching news clips or reading articles about my friends and me for their sheer absurdity. Writers and reporters alike presented theories about alien abductions, parallel universes, government experiments, and conspiracies on the cruise that was shipwrecked. Claims of these nature amused me while suggestions of murder and even cannibalism left me in a speechless rage.

Once Jessie braved a talk show to try and set the record straight. She told them a PG, twenty minute version of what had really happened and refuted all the false rumors catching fire. The talk show host led the audience in a tear filled standing ovation, gave Jessie a ten thousand dollar scholarship, and then everyone returned to their lives and forgot about Jessie and the truth. Jessie joined the National Guard four months after we returned and I lost touch with her shortly thereafter.

Rita and I corresponded faithfully. Instead of returning to her home island, she applied and was accepted into a medical school in Costa Rica with the help of the hospital that had revived us. Her letters reflected her joy and contentment and it comforted me to read them and know she was well.

As for Toby, we contacted each other sporadically. He always remembered my birthday and I his, but other than that we seldom spoke. He moved to California the fall after our return to study accounting. Within three years he had his degree and was lined up to work for a prestigious international business firm just north of Los Angeles.

The fall after we were rescued, I enrolled at the University of North Carolina to study nursing. I had never actually known what I wanted to do with my life after high school. I had always had many interests but few passions. It was on the island, watching helplessly as my friends had suffered and hungrily grasping at the healing knowledge that Rita possessed that I discovered I wanted to save lives. It felt somehow like a tribute to my fallen friends.

College was the hardest four years I had ever experienced. The classes were grueling and there were many times when I wanted to give up and run away from it all; pack up some basics and just start going, stopping when I wanted to and working till I could keep moving. There are still times when I'm tempted to do it.

But I couldn't live for myself anymore. I had lost a dozen friends on the island and somehow I felt like I could never stop living for all of them. And that didn't mean running away from hardships such as school. I never really clicked with a group of people at my college. They all had lived relatively happy and normal lives. It amazed me to think that if I had never gone on that cruise I would have been just like them; obliviously self-centered, constantly taking for granted the privileges that they've felt entitled to their entire lives. Instead I had zero interest in drinking and partying, experimenting with drugs and sex, or attending rowdy sporting events. I didn't mind really. I focused on studying and learning as best I could and within four years my hard work had paid off.