They are talking about me. Of course they think I don't hear, don't notice. But I do; the hushed voices, the worried looks, I notice it all and I know why. Know all too well.

"You friend, he's a bit of a genius isn't he?" I hear Horace saying to James.

Genius? Hah! If I was a genius Charlotte wouldn't have died. If I was a genius I would've been able to stop it. But I guess that's just how it is; I'm not safe to be around. First Theresa, now Charlotte. I should come with a warning sticker: causes serious damage to your health! Don't get near me; if I fall in love with you you're doomed. Charles Widmore said my memory would come back if I went to the Island, he forgot to mention that it would only be the memory of the bad things. Of Theresa unstuck in time. Of Charlotte collapsing in front of me, blood pouring from her nose. Of Charlotte going limp and dying in front of me. Of opening my eyes after the last flash and realize Charlotte's body was gone, knowing that I wouldn't even have a body to bury. I try to remember all the good moments but I can't. They're gone. Disappeared. Maybe there never were any.

So when James comes and tells me about the research facility at Ann Arbor I'm eager to go there. Yes, my memory issues might return if I leave the Island, but I don't care. It's better like that. After all; why would anyone want to be stuck with only bad memories and no good?