Who are they;

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If that worked the way I'm hoping it did, I just discovered a new trick.

Now. Can anyone see what I wrote at the top of this page? :)

I think I'm gonna go re-hole the golf course. Mix it up a little, I dunno.

Mostly I'm just bored stiff. Anyone? Bueller?

Amid the little bits and pieces of belongings we salvaged from the ocean, I found this journal. This is the first time I've managed to sit down and write in it.

Things have been hell. And it seems to get worse as time goes on. I don't even remember how many days we've been out here, wandering and barely surviving. Nathan is dead. It's my fault. I know that everyone else thinks so, too. They'll avoid my eyes sometimes. But they never say anything. I think they might be afraid to. Goodwin was one of Them. And I didn't see it. I couldn't save the kids and I can barely lead the people that are left. But I have to, because no one else is going to do what they need to do to survive.

Not too long ago, while Bernard was messing with the radio, he heard a voice. It was a man, saying he was a survivor of flight 815. I shut it off immediately. I didn't tell them, but I'm scared. I don't want Them to find us again. I don't want to be hunted. I don't want Libby or Bernard or Cindy or even Eko to be killed in the middle of the night. But what if there are other survivors?

I went into the woods to cry after hearing the radio transmission. It was the stress finally getting to me. I don't know if I can handle all of this. Eko came out of the woods while I was crying. He moves like a freaking panther or something. I didn't even heard him sneak up on me. He comforted me out there. I owe him. He spoke to me (the first time since he was first attacked), told me it'd be ok. I want to believe that it will be. But after all that's happened? I can't see myself ever not being afraid of what's lurking out there. Those people in the woods aren't human.

For now? I guess we have to decide what we're going to do next. Staying in the hatch/bunk/whatever seems the best. I'll have a talk with everyone later.

Maybe if everybody stopped whining and actually tried to figure out why these journals all seem to be linked, we'd have figured it out by now.

This journal scares me. It was blank before but now it's not. And I don't remember writing in it.

Maybe it's just because I'm tired.

I just wish he'd talk to me.

It ain't funny, fatass.

Kate, I thought you said these were blank?

Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson go on a camping trip, set up their tent, and fall asleep. Some hours later, Holmes wakes his faithful friend.
"Watson, look up at the sky and tell me what you see."

Watson replies, "I see millions of stars."

"What does that tell you?"

Watson ponders for a minute. "Astronomically speaking, it tells me that there are millions of galaxies and potentially billions of planets. Astrologically, it tells me that Saturn is in Leo. Timewise, it appears to be approximately a quarter past three. Theologically, it's evident the Lord is all-powerful and we are small and insignificant. Meteorologically, it seems we will have a beautiful day tomorrow. What does it tell you?"

Holmes is silent for a moment, then speaks. "Watson, you idiot, someone has stolen our tent."

Okay, lets go over the facts.

Boone is okay. Going to need a lot of rest for awhile. But he made it through, he's going to be okay providing nothing else goes wrong. Good, it could of been so much worse. But I need to ask Locke more about the plane once he gets back from hunting probably knew I was going to ask which is why he left

Claire's Baby is also okay. Kate did a good job being the midwife. Wish I could of been there, but the timing made it impossible. Everything checks out, and he's a healthy baby boy. Waiting on the name still from Claire.

Now, these journals. All of them seem to be linked. Still trying to figure out why. Just when I thought this island couldn't surprise me anymore. Does anyone have any logical explainations as to why this is working?