Lord Of The Flies 2, Chapter 1
(told in Ralph's point of view)
It's been a week since I was rescued off the island and memories, both good and bad, haunt my every thought. I can't stop thinking about the island. I don't want to think about it anymore, but I can't get it off my mind. Not when everything I do reminds me of it. So that's all I have been doing for the past seven days. Sitting in my room. Staring out the window. And thinking... Thinking about the island, the conch, Piggy, SamnEric, painted faces, that dreaded chant... What Jack Meridew would have done to kill me... If it weren't for us being rescued he would have killed me. Jack. Roger. Simon. SamnEric. Piggy. Piggy.I never even knew his real name. And now I never will... If only I could speak to him one last time. There's so many things I would say. I would apologize. For calling him Piggy. For never learning his name. For not sticking up for him. For making fun of his asthma. For not giving him the conch. For being a terrible friend. A sob escapes me.
A couple days ago the police were asking me about Piggy...and Simon too. What ever happened to them? I tried to tell them. I tried to tell them about Jack and hid group of savages. I opened my mouth but no words came out, just a whining sob. I haven't talked, not much, since the day we were rescued. I try...but no words come out. My thoughts jumble up and mix together... And it always ends in tears.
My mom took me to a psychologist person yesterday. Dr. Westly or something like that. She's says he can help me. I don't know why she thinks I need help. I don't talk to Dr. Westly either and to be honest I don't think he really minds all that much. He just scribbles all over that note pad... What he's writing, I don't know. I haven't told him anything. I haven't given him anything to write about. I'm beginning to wonder if he's drawing a portrait of me...
My father doesn't even know I got stranded on the island in the first place. He's 'away' like he always is and from what I overheard my mom say on the phone, he probably won't be back for a while. I miss him and I know my mom does too. I hear her cry at night. I wish he was here. He always knew how to cheer me up... Maybe I could find the words to talk to him.
My thoughts are interrupted when my mom walks through the door with a tray of food and a tiny white envelope. "Ralph..." she says and then she stops not knowing what else to say. "Ralph," she repeats and sets the tray on the window sill beside me. My stomach growls. I turn to her. "umm..." she twirls the envelope in her hand. It's addressed to me but I can tell she's opened it. I look down and the tray. Pork chops. Suddenly I think of the rotting pig's head covered in flies and I'm no longer hungry. I push the tray aside. She frowns. "please eat Ralph, you look so skinny." She's said my name three times now. What is she holding in that envelope? "Ralph, this came in the mail for you."