I grimaced as I sat alone. I knew what they were doing. Their 'ceremonies'. I knew all
of it. I knew what they were afraid of. There was no beast. I didn't know what it was, but that
wasn't it. I knew what It was. It was us.
All this, I couldn't explain. I tried to. Each time I opened my mouth, I wanted to tell them,
Wake up! Look around! The beast is your overactive imagination! And if you don't realize it soon,
It's going to kill us all! You're going to kill us all! But I couldn't. I could think about it all I wanted,
but the words would just not come out of my mouth. I doubt they would have listened anyway. Now,
they had thier so-called 'beast'. I made a decison. I would go up there, and I would find out what on
Earth it was that had scared them so much. I had to. Otherwise, they would never believe the truth.
I wandered up the mountain top, pushing aside bushes and rocks. It was tough going,
and twice I had to stop for fear I'd faint. But I reached the cave. I took one look and vomited.
The beast was a corpse! A dead man in a parachute! Oh dear God! I turned from the site.
Then, I opened my eyes. I had to do this. If I didn't do it, then God only knew what could happen.
And so I removed the parachutist. It didn't take as long as I had thought it would.
Once it was untangled, it floated upwards and out to see. No one will find him there. I thought,
almost sadly. No one will bury him. His family will worry for the rest of thier lives. I began to cry
My family wasn't worried about me. They believed I was safe with a nice family right now. Ralph's
family wasn't worried about him, nor Jack's nor Rogers. I snorted. Piggy's Auntie was probably worried
right now. She struck me as the kind of woman who would worry if Piggy was in the charge of the
Queen of England. Offhandedly I wondered then, what Piggy's real name was. I decided when I went
down to tell the others, I would ask him.
I wandered back down the mountainside. The ritual was now in full swing and I could hear the
chant:
KILL THE PIG
CUT HER THROAT
SPILL HER BLOOD!
I waved to them, to get their attention. And I got it.
Only something told me it wasn't really them. Behind the painted mask, in the dim firelight
I looked into Jack Merridew's eyes, and saw evil written there.
The Lord of The Flies!
I pushed that thought away. No, I was imagining it.
You're not.
No. I wasn't imagining it. They turned their chant on me. And the sticks, and themselves
and...
"No wait!" I screamed, utterly terrified, knowing what they would do to me. "No, wait
please don't! Please-- The beast-- It's not-- It's--"
My cries were lost on them. They had reached a world in which they couldn't come back
from. A world where impulses rule. A world where they were not British schoolboys, lost on some
God-forsaken island, but Aztec warriors who trusted no one. Not even one of them.
But I wasn't one of them. I was a member of the choir. But I didn't paint my face, and hunt
and scream. And I was sick. Only now, they were sicker. I suppose that was why I couldn't talk to
them. I knew I was different. But now- Now I had to make sure I was heard.
I turned my eyes wildly and noticed Piggy and Ralph sitting. Not fighting, not chanting,
not painted! They would save me. Ralph was good, honest, I liked him. And Piggy was smart. I called
out to them.
They never moved. I don't know whether that was because they couldn't hear me, or were
somehow frozen. But they never moved. I felt something clunk me in the back of the head and fell,
weak, knowing I was going to die. My last concious thought:
It's too late. Please God let the killing stop here.
The End
~Dedicated with much love to Simon.~
Screw Ralph! Simon was the real hero of the story!
of it. I knew what they were afraid of. There was no beast. I didn't know what it was, but that
wasn't it. I knew what It was. It was us.
All this, I couldn't explain. I tried to. Each time I opened my mouth, I wanted to tell them,
Wake up! Look around! The beast is your overactive imagination! And if you don't realize it soon,
It's going to kill us all! You're going to kill us all! But I couldn't. I could think about it all I wanted,
but the words would just not come out of my mouth. I doubt they would have listened anyway. Now,
they had thier so-called 'beast'. I made a decison. I would go up there, and I would find out what on
Earth it was that had scared them so much. I had to. Otherwise, they would never believe the truth.
I wandered up the mountain top, pushing aside bushes and rocks. It was tough going,
and twice I had to stop for fear I'd faint. But I reached the cave. I took one look and vomited.
The beast was a corpse! A dead man in a parachute! Oh dear God! I turned from the site.
Then, I opened my eyes. I had to do this. If I didn't do it, then God only knew what could happen.
And so I removed the parachutist. It didn't take as long as I had thought it would.
Once it was untangled, it floated upwards and out to see. No one will find him there. I thought,
almost sadly. No one will bury him. His family will worry for the rest of thier lives. I began to cry
My family wasn't worried about me. They believed I was safe with a nice family right now. Ralph's
family wasn't worried about him, nor Jack's nor Rogers. I snorted. Piggy's Auntie was probably worried
right now. She struck me as the kind of woman who would worry if Piggy was in the charge of the
Queen of England. Offhandedly I wondered then, what Piggy's real name was. I decided when I went
down to tell the others, I would ask him.
I wandered back down the mountainside. The ritual was now in full swing and I could hear the
chant:
KILL THE PIG
CUT HER THROAT
SPILL HER BLOOD!
I waved to them, to get their attention. And I got it.
Only something told me it wasn't really them. Behind the painted mask, in the dim firelight
I looked into Jack Merridew's eyes, and saw evil written there.
The Lord of The Flies!
I pushed that thought away. No, I was imagining it.
You're not.
No. I wasn't imagining it. They turned their chant on me. And the sticks, and themselves
and...
"No wait!" I screamed, utterly terrified, knowing what they would do to me. "No, wait
please don't! Please-- The beast-- It's not-- It's--"
My cries were lost on them. They had reached a world in which they couldn't come back
from. A world where impulses rule. A world where they were not British schoolboys, lost on some
God-forsaken island, but Aztec warriors who trusted no one. Not even one of them.
But I wasn't one of them. I was a member of the choir. But I didn't paint my face, and hunt
and scream. And I was sick. Only now, they were sicker. I suppose that was why I couldn't talk to
them. I knew I was different. But now- Now I had to make sure I was heard.
I turned my eyes wildly and noticed Piggy and Ralph sitting. Not fighting, not chanting,
not painted! They would save me. Ralph was good, honest, I liked him. And Piggy was smart. I called
out to them.
They never moved. I don't know whether that was because they couldn't hear me, or were
somehow frozen. But they never moved. I felt something clunk me in the back of the head and fell,
weak, knowing I was going to die. My last concious thought:
It's too late. Please God let the killing stop here.
The End
~Dedicated with much love to Simon.~
Screw Ralph! Simon was the real hero of the story!