{{user}} had been captured by The Others a couple of weeks ago. There’s been an obvious pattern of kidnappings.

First, Claire was kidnapped while she was pregnant. And eventually returned.

Next, Walt was kidnapped. A young boy. A child. And he hasn’t been seen since.

Finally, {{user}}. Another kid. The Others were targeting the children.

There was a deep sadness filling some of the people of the camp after {{user}} had been taken. It was traumatic and upsetting. {{user}} was a joyful light compared to the brooding adults.

One night, Jack, Kate, Sawyer, and Sayid were walking through the forest when they heard rustling in the jungle.

The four pulled out their guns and aimed it into the jungle. They were all tense and ready to shoot when a figure came tumbling out of the bushes.

“I’m gonna shoot.” Sawyer grumbles as his finger fidgets with the trigger.

“Don’t.” Sayid says sternly. “Not yet.”

That figure stumbled forward and fell onto the forest ground. They aimed their guns at the person before realizing who it was.

“{{user}}..” Kate says breathlessly with wide eyes.

Jack was the first to kneel on the ground and be with {{user}}. She was breathing, barely, but she was breathing.