4-6-11
Dear Mum and Dad,
I can't wait to see you. I've been missing you so much and I didn't know if I'll see you again. So much had happened in such a short amount of time.
As you should know by now, I have been on a deserted island for the last few months. Since the plane crash it was a hand full of kids trying to survive. The whole thing felt like a dream, still does. It's like I'm sleepwalking, waiting to wake up and to know that none of it was real, a never-ending nightmare. I'll try to elaborate about some of the events that have happened. Problem is, it feels like I won't have enough paper to give enough detail. At the same, I can't write what has happened because there are no words to describe it. But, I'll do my best for you to get a glimpse.
When I woke up, I was in the middle of a giant clearing in the middle of a jungle. The clearing had dozens of trees with their roots exposed to the filtered sunlight from being knocked down. Squashed and rotted fruit was all around squelching under my shoes leaving their fragrance in the air. The rich, brown earth was upturned from where the plane had been dragging along making an indent in the surface. Scrap metal was all that was left of the contraption and it's pilot, whose body was never found. As I surveyed the damage, I heard a weird kind of, like a horn or something. Since it more than likely, and hopefully a way back to society, I followed it. The closer I got, the louder it bellowed like an earth quake as it sounded repeatedly though the air.
I squinted at the bright sunlight as I broke out of the clingy creepers. I took off my shoes and wriggled my toes in the soft sand. Putting my hand over my eyes to block them from the blinding sun, I looked up and down the hot, creamy beach. Out on some sort of platform were a group of blurry figures. Quickly, I ran over to the wake of the sea to save my feet from the scalding sand. Water splashed up behind as I sprinted towards the raised platform. I could taste the salt as it sprayed my face. Getting closer, the blurry images turned into a group of kids, mostly little'uns, sitting. One of the older 'uns, a boy with fair hair, was blowing into some sort of shell, which turned out to be a conch. He had the air a leader as he rounded up the kids from all over the place. The kids seemed to realize this since they chose the boy, Ralph, as the leader. Another boy, a redhead named Jack, didn't seem content with this decision but never voiced his opinion.
Both of them had different ideas of what to focus on. Jack, former head of the choir, made a hunting group that would also be in charge of making sure the fire was lit. The fire had been Ralph's idea. It was a humongous fire with thick, curling smoke that filled the air so we could be seen and rescued. We were so close! A ship had come by but they had let the fire go out! It was because they had all gone and chased after a wild boar. Jacks excuse was that they needed meat and that they needed everyone to kill the pig. This is probably what had started the static between the red-headed savage and the blond leader.
One of the little'uns have been talking about a beastie. Everyone is scared even if they won't admit it. Most of them had forgot about it during the feast we had. We were having the meat that the hunters had caught. During the festivities, Simon, one of the elder boys with matted black hair, had come out of the forest. Terrified, a bunch of them, mostly the hunters, had come at him with sharpened sticks that resembled spears and fists. They beat, kicked, and stabbed him to death. He was black, blue, and red as his lifeless body laid half-buried in the sand as blood poured from his open wounds. The whole time this was happening, Jack just watched, not even helping him while everyone claimed that Simon was the beast, even though he knew.
Tensions were high after this. The island had been split in two. Now, you were either with Jack or against him with Ralph. Things keep getting worse and worse. Jack's group, the savages, have stolen Piggy's, a fat boy with asthma, specs. Without those Piggy can't see and we can't start the fire. Roger is second in command of the Savages, an assassin. Roger helped steal the specs and pushed a boulder off a cliff. The boulder rolled down the cliff gradually picking up speed. Dirt and gravel rained down. Piggy stood on a rock below, squinting up, wondering what was happening. It made contact. Hitting the crown of his head, blood poured out. Both the boulder and his head broke into a million pieces. He died on contact. His wide body fell back. Waves crashed over the limp body and carried it away.
After that, the rest who hadn't broken down and crawled over to Jack's and Roger's side, were on the run. We had to hide so we couldn't be found. If we were found, we were forced to join THEM and if we refused, we were killed. Just when they were about to take care of Ralph, a miracle occurred. A ship had come and rescued us.
That's where I am right now. On that same ship. Sitting here in tattered scraps of clothing. Dirty and covered in grim writing to you. I won't be home for a while since I need to be checked for diseases and such, but I'll see you soon. When I come home, I don't think I'll want to leave for a while.
Sincerely,