Just a note; none of these stories have any particular order. They're all just randomized. I don't own any of the characters in the Lord of the Flies.
Simon sat down at the lunch table with all the other choirboys. He opened his brown paper bag and took out his peanut-butter and jelly sandwich. The others boys were all chattering away in the noisy lunchroom. A very small, quiet boy crept up and sat at the end of the table, a few seats away from everybody else. The table fell silent. Robert pointed at the boy and whispered something to Maurice. The two giggled. Bill broke the silence with his loud voice. "What are you doing here? This table is for choirboys only." The small boy didn't look up, but he shifted a little on his chair. "If you don't leave our table," Bill continued, "I'll come over and throw you away from here!" Maurice and Robert chuckled again, whispering to the other boys on either side of them, who joined in the laughter. Bill glanced at them. "Why are you all laughing?" he asked. Robert leaned in. "That kid's insane. He probably can't hear you because he's got too many voices talking inside his own head!" Robert explained, bursting into laughter with the others.
The small boy stared at the table. "I can hear you," he said softly. Simon looked at him for a moment. The others didn't catch what he'd said because they were still roaring with laughter. Some teased and mocked him loudly, making him blush a little with embarrassment. Finally, Jack looked up from his lunch and quieted them all down. "Shut up, all of you. He's new. He just joined the choir about a week ago. Today will be his first day singing with us. Let him alone." the redhead ordered. Everyone obeyed and went back to their normal conversations. Simon looked at the small boy for a moment. He noticed the absence of a brown paper bag in front of the new kid. The boy still hadn't looked up from the table.
Simon slid down the bench a little until he was sitting directly across from the little stranger. "Hi," he said quietly. "My name is Simon. What's yours?" The boy moved his eyes up from the tabletop and looked at Simon. Simon noticed how they boy's mahogany-colored hair formed a thin curtain over his forehead, and that his eyes had big dark circles underneath them. He seemed to think for a moment. "Roger," he finally murmured. Simon gave him a smile. "I think you'll enjoy choir. It's a lot of work but it's so rewarding to work in a group and feel all the teamwork creating something so beautiful to the ear. What made you join?" Simon asked. Roger paused before answering this as well. He looked down. "Don't want to go home after school," he said softly. Simon concentrated on the boy, and could almost sense that something was wrong inside of him. He was struggling. Externally, he had a nervous tic that caused his eyes to blink hard every once in a while. It wasn't that Simon had another sense or any kind of powers-he could pick up on other people's emotions quickly and had a good heart to make them feel better.
Simon took a bite of his sandwich so that he'd have a moment to think things over-it would be rude to talk with his mouth full. He swallowed, and then put the rest of his sandwich down. "Do you have a lunch?" he asked. Roger shook his head. Simon opened up his lunch bag and pulled out an apple and a bag of cookies. Roger watched him closely. Simon pushed the apple carefully across the table and held it towards his new friend. He gave a smile and a nod. Roger extended his hand and wrapped his bony fingers around the fruit slowly. Simon put the bag of cookies between them. "We'll share these too," he said. Roger took a bite out of the apple, chewed, and then swallowed. "Thank you," he said. Simon just gave a smile. He liked the new choirboy. He knew he wanted to be his friend to give him some comfort-Simon knew well that the other boys weren't going to give Roger an easy time, considering they'd openly humiliated him without even welcoming him to the group. He decided from that moment on, he'd be a good friend to the strange quiet boy that was trying something new all by himself.