WHAT'S THIS MOCKERY? IS 100REASONSWHY ACTUALLY ATTEMPTING TO WRITE SOMETHING SERIOUS? AND A GIRL-ON-THE-ISLANDS-FIC AS WELL?

ALSO-The wonderful cover art is the beautiful work of Tsukiko Amaya! Thank you so much!

Rated T for now. Might change later. Idk. I'll see what I feel like doing when I get to it.

Soundtrack: Behind the Sea - Panic! At the Disco

Disclaimer: Don't own anything.

Note: Nada.

Warnings: Language, I guess? Descriptive gore.

Enjoy ~

A Crude Awakening

"A daydream spills from my corked head

And breaks free of my wooden neck

Left to nod over sleeping waves."

The bitter taste of salt was embedded on her lips, and as a warm breeze grazed along her slack form, the bedraggled girl lifted her sore head and gazed around.

Louise Darmer was not a beautiful girl, not even normally, but now, with the remnants of broken twigs and shredded leaves threaded into her dark brown hair, she felt more homely than usual. Her arm hurt something awful, and there was a purpling bruise along her thigh.

Thigh?

The beige stockings that normally concealed the just of her legs were shredded upon, adorned with lovely little red scratches. Her skirt was hardly in a better condition, and she couldn't even bring herself to think about her blouse...

Nauseated and weary, Louise stretched her bruised legs and arose. The sunlight was shattered between the snake-like branches of the trees - tethered and laced in thick vines. Ignoring the throbbing sensation in her head, Louise trekked forward, tripping over a protruding tree trunk in the process. She fell, cursed, and rose again, determined in at least catching her balance. The crash had left her disoriented and clumsy, two traits that not even Louise found familiar. The thought struck at her, jabbed at her mind, and with a quiet gasp, she stared around the strange surroundings in confusion.

The crash!

She remembered now - vaguely, but it was still something. There had been an evacuation - yes, and she and Gracie had boarded the plane together, hand in hand, quivering with the same fearful anticipation. They had sat next to each other when the rumble started up. Like the great belly of a beast, the plane started to shake and tremble, growling with the ferocity of an animal. Louise faintly recalled the hideous shriek of the thing as it plummeted down into what seemed like a never-ending abyss, and then only darkness.

Louise gently touched her left hand, the one that Gracie had clutched as the plane crashed down. There were fingernail marks from her hard grip, little indents that acted as sickly reminders for the disastrous flight.

Gracie.

Louise's heart thrummed hard against her chest. The was no evidence of the plane anywhere, almost as if the entire thing had been swallowed into the sea.

Into the sea.

Gracie.

Louise darted through the forest, desperately hoping to find her lost friend. Gracie. The slight girl with two blonde plaits and a constant cough. Little Gracie, the only one who hadn't rejected Louise for her absurd fears and skeptical ways. Louise questioned everything, and with reason, too.

Her leg throbbed with pain, but her hunger to find her friend was far too strong and led her to disregard any means of suffering. She may have survived the crash, but that didn't mean that the other twenty-four children lived as well.

Gracie.

She could see the scattered remains of the monstrous plane, twisted and broken at odd angles. Mangled, almost.

She's got to be here.

Trees were turned over from where the thing had swooped down. Birds screeched in restless agony, and from the strong scent of heavy fumes, she could tell she was getting closer.

In the wreckage. She'll be fine. In the wreckage.

The skeleton of plane was nowhere to be seen, but there was a patch of shrubs where a stack of wreckage lay. Beneath the wreckage, Louise could make out the bloodied form of a limb - an arm, she reckoned. An arm with a golden bracelet.

Gracie's bracelet.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god no." Sweat beaded along Louise's brow, and with a quaking hand, she reached out to touch Gracie.

Gracie's touch was cold. Her hand fell slack and limp in Louise's urgent grip. She tugged gently on her friend, withholding the tears that threatened to fall. Her heart was a hard drum against the warm flesh of her chest, and with careful tact, the girl released her friend's hand and pried at the wreckage that crushed her.

Gracie was terribly mangled. Her fair skin was marred by blackened burns and reddening lacerations. The blast of the crash seared off all her pretty blonde hair, and now all that remained of the once beautiful girl was a mutilated mass of flesh and a gaping mouth, frozen in mid-shriek.

Louise was incapable of tears. They brimmed at the edge of her cobalt eyes, but none would spill. Her entire body shook, shook at the sight of her dead friend, shook at the luck that somehow, she had lived. Her fingers tightened over Gracie's lifeless arm, and with a shaken breath, Louise looked up into the sky.

Dead. All of them.

The brief thought that perhaps she was the only survivor crossed her mind, and with an aching heart, Louise was tempted to believe it. What if she was? What if everyone else suffered the same brutal fate as Gracie? She couldn't bring herself to fathom it, so instead, Louise curled up beside her dead friend and squeezed her eyes shut.

Maybe I'll will myself to death.

The thought was morbid, but comforting all the same.

"I think it's a girl."

The small boy glanced at his curious friend and sniggered.

"She's dead."

"I don't think so."

"Look at her. She's dead."

Frustrated gazes met, and with an aggravated huff, the small boy knelt beside the motionless girl and sat.

"She's dead, Johnny. Look-"

"I am." Johnny felt obliged to prove his friend wrong. After all, it was a miracle they were even still alive. Until now, they couldn't remember exactly how they arrived on the island - that's what they presumed it was. But after stumbling across the bits of pieces of wreckage, they discovered the two 'sleeping' girls and instantly remembered the crash.

Johnny's thoughts drifted to the inevitable as his friend mindlessly poked the brunette girl.

"Hey!" Johnny growled. "Stop that, Henry! You might anger her spirit, and then she'll come and haunt us! Haven't you ever read the books?"

"What books?" Henry's gaze was mocking, and with a tart smile, he went to poke the girl once more.

Both the boys heard a groan, and then a grunt. Henry fell back from his comfortable position, followed shortly by Johnny. The boys were terrified as one of the assumed dead girls groggily sat up.

Johnny made a quiet squeak of a scream. "Look what you did!"

"I didn't do it!"

"You annoyed her and now her spirit's come to get us!"

Henry ignored his friend and watched as the girl yawned and stared around, her face marked by dirt and dried blood. She looked strange and awfully scared - nearly as scared as Johnny, and when she saw the two boys, her mouth quickly fell open into a scream. Theirs shortly followed, and before long, the forest was pierced by the sound of frightened squeals.

The girl was the first to snap out of her daze of trepidation.

"Wait a minute..." She leaned forward, sending both the boys sprawling back. After a moment, her dark blue eyes were ablaze in something the boys could only identify as relief. With a small grin, she scooted towards them. "You...you're just two little boys!"

The duo nodded in synch, like two frightened little puppies. This made the girl's smile grow.

"I...I'm not the only one who survived...There's...there's more..." Suddenly she was clinging up against them, fingernails curling into the dark earth below. "Tell me, what are your names?"

Johnny nudged Henry in the side and cleared his throat.

"I...I'm Johnny, and this is Henry."

They were met with a cruelly sweet smile. The girl held out her hand and spoke with languid excitement.

"I'm Louise, but you can call me Lou."

The three children sat there in silence, each absorbed in their own thoughts. Louise seemed to forget about her rotting friend, overcome by the joy of finding two more survivors. The boys were a good bit younger than her - five years, at the least - but were company all the same.

It was Henry who finally broke the tedious silence.

"We...we thought you were dead...because of...because of..."

His grim look told Louise that the two boys had seen Gracie's mangled form. She tried t dismiss the sudden guilt that boiled within her stomach, but it was strong and feverish, a feeling she knew would probably never truly go away. The sound of buzzing flies was loud in her sensitive ears, and when the image of her dead friend resurfaced, she was overwhelmed with the instinct to curl back up in a ball and go to sleep. At least that way she could rest.

Johnny was about to speak when a foreign sound came clashing through the forest. It was like a trumpet, only louder, with great ambience and resonance. The three children glanced in wary curiosity, and without a second thought, Henry was clumsily arising, gripping the crude edge of a palm tree as he stood. Johnny followed him, assisting himself by pulling on his friend's navy blazer. The noise sounded once more, and the two boys regarded each other with the same feverish excitement.

Without another word, the two boys made a run for the forest, leaving Louise dumbfounded and mildly annoyed.

At second thought, Henry glanced back around at the girl and called, "C'mon, then!"

She watched as the child tripped and stumbled over a branch, and with a heavy heart, trudged along to follow them. After all, her leg was throbbing with irritable pain now, the wounds aggravated from running earlier on. Louise hadn't an idea as to where the thundering sound was coming from, but whatever it was, it was deafening. Scary, even.

Louise followed the two boys, now only blurs of navy blue and blonde hair, through the thick tendrils of forest. The noise thundered once more and sent shivers through Louise's worn frame. She watched as the two boys fumbled from the forest's edge, and suddenly, the sight of pallid sand and shimmering water was visible. The sound of waves crashing against the rocky shore sent her nerves ablaze, and with wide eyes, she drank in the sight with greedy ardor.

The beach...At her summer home in Liverpool, the beach had been a common sight, but this, with the Caribbean blue water and sun-baked sand...it was unlike anything she had ever seen, and it was thrilling. Enthralling even. For a moment, all thoughts of the plane crash were washed away. Louise, enveloped by the beauty before her, descended into a state of numb pleasure. It was glorious, all of it, from the whitewashed shore to the array of palm trees scattered along the beach.

Louise could see Johnny and Henry blundering tactlessly towards two smudges in the distance. At a closer look, she made out the distinct form of two boys - older than Johnny and Henry, but young nonetheless. Curiously, the brunette edged closer, yielding caution as she went, until finally, she reached the sandy clearing where the boys now stood.

She gazed intently at the scene before her. There was Johnny and Henry, who were now chatting eagerly to a small cluster of other small boys with fruit smeared faces. More boys lounged against a fallen palm tree and laughed, completely unfazed by the accident of the plane. It was a mixture of ripped blazers and yellow striped ties, blue sweaters and discarded socks. For a moment, Louise was stunned by the normalcy of their situation until she was tapped out of her daydream. She looked away from the swarm of boys and turned her attention to the boy who stood impatiently before her.

"What's your name?"

He was rather chubby, with flushed, sweat-glistened cheeks and a large pair of gleaming specs. She noticed that he was the only boy who held his uniform completely intact, and from the way he tilted his head in slight frustration, she could tell that held some sort of order over the entire procession.

Shyly, Louise gazed up at the boy and muttered, "Louise."

The boy nodded and stared beyond Louise, as if searching for more people. After a moment, he met her stare and frowned.

"Any more girls with you, or were you alone?"

Blush feathered along her cheeks as she bashfully dug her heel into the sand and shrugged.

"I...I dunno...I was with Gracie...but she...but she..."

The fat boy nodded in sudden sympathy and passed his tongue over his dry lips. She couldn't help but notice how he seemed to struggle to breathe.

"Well, if it's what me and Ralph suspected, the plane must have crashed along there, and then was swallowed up into the ocean. Most of the girls were seated t'wards the back, right?"

Louise gave a timid nod and the boy continued in a resilient manner.

"The back broke off when it hit the forest, you see, so if our assumptions are right, then...then..."

He didn't need to state what was now achingly obvious. Being at a coed boarding school meant having strict restrictions and rules. Even in an evacuation, the population had been severely segregated - girls in the back, boys up front. From the sight of the chattering boys before her, she inferred that many of the boys had managed to get out alive. The girls, however - well, she was the only one in sight, and with the fresh memory of Gracie's grotesque form...

Most, if not all, of the girls were dead. Gone. Mangled and distorted.

A single tear escaped from Louise's tired eyes. The boy heeded this with sudden compassion. She felt a warm hand on her shoulder and looked up to see the boy's warm smile.

"It'll be alright," He said. The trumpet-like noise sounded again - blaring now, probably because of the close distance. Unlike Louise, the boy didn't cringe at the bellow, and instead grinned. With a caring arm, he gently turned Louise around and nodded. "That's Ralph. He knows what he's doing, I reckon. He's the one who blew the conch - we found it together."

But his words fell on deaf ears, for now Louise was beguiled by the boy that stood only a few feet away. She recognized him almost instantly. He was from her Latin class - yes, that was him. The boy who sat in the back next to Michael Moore and Daniel Trent. Louise considered Ralph for a moment, remembered the way Mr. Olsen always favored him, and nearly smiled. At least it was a familiar sight, despite the fact that she had never actually spoken to the boy. Nevertheless, there he stood, a pink frosted shell in hand, lips set in a small smirk. Piggy carefully pushed her forward and nodded.

"Go on! He's needs to know names, anyways."

She moved towards the tall boy, approaching him with quiet hesitance. Gracie had always said she was the shyest thing, especially with boy, to the point it had become an impediment. To her relief, Ralph looked down at her and smiled, then carelessly jumped down from the crooked palm tree on which he stood. With a friendly grin, he tucked the shell beneath his arm and nodded at the girl.

"Hello."

So he doesn't recognize me. Louise wasn't surprised. After all, back at school, she stuck her group just as he stuck to his. It was expected of them. Now, on this strange place, they were forced to meet, much to Louise's dismay. She was never good when it came to conversing with other human beings.

Ralph gazed at her expectantly. "Are you alright?"

She scanned herself and noticed a nasty cut that embodied the majority of her calf. Louise stared back up at Ralph and blushed.

"I...I..."

"We don't know if there's any more girls," The fat boy said from behind her, allowing a moment for Ralph to digest his words. The only girl. Ralph turned back to Louise, his eyes suddenly melting with sore sympathy.

"Oh. Well...well, you're alright now. You'll be okay."

Louise choked on her words and cast away her gaze, embarrassed by her lack of communication. When she stared back up, Ralph had already turned away and was busy talking to a crowd of concerned boys. She drank him in, noting the way his golden hair fell in waves upon his forehead with a small smile. He was tall - maybe fifteen, and was just coming into his broadening shoulders and handsome features, all of which she regarded with practiced solace. His gaze was playful, enthralling, and almost as blue as the ocean. Her thoughts were interrupted as the fat boy hurriedly found her a seat and pushed her down, fixing his attention upon her wounds.

"You're hurt badly," He murmured. Louise hardly heard his quiet voice and replied with an inquisitive look.

"What's your name?"

The boy was shocked at her question, and with a gentle smile, touched his specs in humble gratitude.

"Oh, well, I'm-"

The bespectacled boy was cut off by the almost harmonic sound of singing. Singing? To Louise, the mere thought of song was foreign and surreal, distant even, like a memory. But now she heard it, loud and clear, growing from the distance. Soft, angelic voices, swaying as gently as the warm breeze. It broke the mindless chatter of children and interrupted Ralph's gaze of self-importance. Louise stared out along the horizon, and there right along shore were two uniform lines of black coats and pale skin. She squinted and leaned forward in efforts to gain a better look.

Could it be...the choir?

The choir, the prestigious gits of the school, as her brother once put it. Honor students, mostly, with pompous manners and selfish intentions. She had seen them before, strutting through the hallways as if they owned the place, with hard-set jaws and cold, stern eyes. They never paid heed to Louise or anyone she associated with - they were far below the standards of 'choir-worthy', as Gracie liked to put it.Choir-worthy. What an interesting endeavor this would be.

The choir made their way towards the platform, bound together in song and stroll. Ralph stared upon them with mild interest, leaning up against the palm tree casually. Once the choir reached the others, the boy at the front - the who looked like the evident leader - stopped and called for his followers to halt. The conversion fell still at the boy's icy look of apprehension, and with an imperious huff, he turned around and stood.

"Where's the man with the trumpet?"

Louise noticed red tufts of hair sticking out from under his black cap. Ah yes, another familiar face. She couldn't recall his name, but his ginger locks and matching freckles gave away his identity. Head chorister, 'en't he? She tucked her legs towards her chest and watched as Ralph calmly walked out towards the boy.

"There's no man, only me." Ralph's voice was steady and smooth, almost as if he hadn't a worry in the world.

The redhead snorted and met Ralph's gaze. He was a good head taller than the blonde, but looked to be the same age. Ralph showed no signs of intimidation if he felt any, and somehow managed to keep a firm gaze with the boy.

The redhead finally looked away and retorted, "Are there any grown-ups? Where's Mr. Fields, or Mrs. Nance?"

Ralph shook his head and sighed.

"There are no adults. I think we're here alone."

"Alone?" A hideous smirk played upon the redhead's crumpled face. "No adults? I suppose we'll have to look after ourselves."

The choir sniggered at his words, but after a deadly glare from their leader, they were promptly silenced. Suddenly, a slight boy towards the back fell out of line and flopped headfirst into the sand, earning an accord of attention from the group. Louise almost arose to help him, but the fat boy forced her back down, as if revealing her identity would be a danger. The choir boys moved their fallen friend into the shade, and the redhead dismissed it quickly.

"Oh, he'll be alright. Always throwing a faint, Simon is."

With a wary glance at the unconscious boy, Ralph nodded and forcefully followed the redhead as he moved to lean beside his choir in the shade.

"What's your name?"

The redhead showed indifference at the question and tipped his head at the blonde.

"Children's names, I think! Jack - it's childish, pedestrian even - so I prefer Merridew, if don't mind."

Ralph smiled and offered his hand. "I'm Ralph."

Jack took Ralph's outstretched hand and vacantly gestured to the choir. Almost immediately, the cloaked boys were rattling off their names.

There was Bill, who was about Ralph's size with similarly blonde hair and striking blue eyes. Next to him was Maurice, next in size to Jack, with a wide grin and chocolate brown curls. The skinny, short boy beside him named himself as Robert, and the boy next to him was Adam. Finally, there was a darkly intriguing boy with hair of ebony and a charcoal gaze. He spoke in a quiet voice, all the while managing to avoid the stares of his peers. He announced his name as Roger, and was silent once more. Simon, the fallen boy, had awoken, and with dopey brown eyes, he grinned and gave a friendly wave. Louise smiled. He reminded her of her little brother, Timothy. The thought was comforting.

Suddenly, the fat boy who had knelt down beside her, stood up and bravely sauntered towards the center where both Jack and Ralph stood. He diffidently strayed behind Ralph as he pointed towards the cluster of boys along the clearing.

"That's Nicholas, Michael, and - no, don't tell me - Sam and...Eric?"

For the first time, Louise spotted a pair of sandy-blonde twins who sat on the ground beside Henry. They smiled at each other before shaking their heads.

"I'm Sam," Sam corrected proudly.

Eric played along with his brother's display. "And I'm Eric."

The crowd laughed, and for a moment, even the fat boy was smiling. But then thing's were solemn again, and before long, the boy was serious.

The fat boy reached for the conch and began to speak. "We need to gather all the names and assign jobs-"

"Shut up, Fatty," Jack sneered, pitilessly shoving the boy from the center.

Snickers roared through the group, and Louise felt a pang of anger. Stupid choirboys, always somehow managing to show their impudence in the most disrespectful ways...

She wasn't mentally prepared when Ralph stepped out and shook his head, laughing.

"His name's not Fatty - it's Piggy!"

Now the throng of children erupted in mirth, chuckling till their heads bent forward and their stomachs lurched in desperation for relief. Louise watched in bitter contempt as the boys nearly crumbled in the heat of it all. Piggy had slowly wandered back towards Louise, his head lowered in humiliation. It made her insides burn. After all, she of all people could relate to the pettish taunts of her merciless peers. She got it enough back at school, and now here? She was glad that Jack hadn't noticed her yet, because if he had, she was sure he would make some pointless pun and force her back into her shelled existence.

After the boys finally recollected themselves, Ralph held the conch in pride and stared around at his peers.

"We should have a leader," he suggested thoughtfully. Louise rolled her eyes. Almost as cocky as the choirboys, that Ralph is. Not exactly what she had been hoping for when she initially saw the handsome figure of Ralph.

The crowd hooted in agreement, and with a curt smile, Jack stepped out in front of the blonde and raised his head.

"I should be chief. I'm chapter chorister and head boy, and I can sing C sharp."

A quiet clamor of chatter arose, but was silenced when Roger, the reclusive boy, subtly rose his hand and spoke up.

"We should have a vote."

This earned an accord of 'yeah's' and 'of course's as Ralph held the conch to his lips and unearthed the bellowing sound. The crowd was quieted, and in the deafening silence of the moment, Ralph glanced between himself and Jack and cleared his throat.

"Alright. Who wants Jack to be chief?"

The choir obediently raised their hands, as did a few littluns - Henry included. Louise noticed this with disdain and shook her head. Quite frankly, she wanted neither one of them to be chief. They were both prideful idiots - Jack on his merits, Ralph on his conch.

Ralph lazily counted the hands and nodded.

"Right. Who wants me to be chief?"

The majority now raised their hands, hollering in unleashed admiration for the blonde with the shell. Piggy somewhat reluctantly joined the flock of hands, and with silent indignation, Louise followed. Ralph grinned at the sight and held the conch close to his clothed chest.

"Alright, I guess I'm chief."

Jack glared, but quickly hid his humiliation with a look of arrogant pity. The blonde glanced at his friend and smiled.

"The choir is yours, of course. You can do what you may with them."

Without a second thought, Jack raised an eyebrow in thoughtful cheer and grinned. "They'll be hunters."

The choir stared at their leader dumbly, almost as if they hadn't the slightest idea at why he had made them hunters. Nevertheless, they looked pleased, happy that they now held the most fierce position in the group.

Ralph smiled in satisfaction at Jack's easy choice and plopped down next to the twins on the sandy floor. "Well, it's settled then-"

"What about her?"

It was Henry who had spoken the ill-ridden words, and with flushed cheeks, Louise met the gazes of at least thirty-boys, all of whom stared in mild curiosity. She managed a smile before sinking back into her fazed shyness. Ralph seemed bewildered at the question, but Jack, likewise, somehow knew exactly what to say.

"She can be a maid, of course." His icy gaze stung Louise's skin. "Isn't that what all women are supposed to do?"

The boys were in another fit of laughter. Louise blushed furiously now, and tried to snap back at the boy, but her voice was hoarse and came as a quiet squeak, too intimidated by his powerful demeanor. After a moment, Henry piped up again.

"But she's the only girl."

This intrigued Jack. Ignoring Ralph's sudden look of distaste, the redhead moved closer towards Louise, a mocking smirk plastered upon his freckled face. As he grew closer, the girl drew away, turning her red face in the opposite direction. Jack smiled, disregarded Piggy, and knelt down beside her. They eyes of every boy burned into his cloaked back, and with malicious intent, Jack reached out and touched the gash along her leg.

"You would think," he drawled, running a slender finger along her wound. Her heart thrummed at his touch, and her flesh was nearly on fire with the sudden pain. Louise suppressed a groan and squeezed her eyes shut as the boy continued smugly. "...that all the girlies would've died in the crash, hm?"

When she showed no evident reaction, he reached out and grabbed her chin, forcing her blue eyes to clash with his. His grip was firm and not at all gentle, and with a sly grin, he pulled her face to his and laughed.

"Girls."

With that, he discarded of Louise and threw her carelessly to the side. The crowd was silent, unsure of whether to laugh or boo. Ralph gazed on in contempt at Jack's actions and moved towards the girl who now lay curled up upon the sand.

Louise felt a soft hand at the back of her head and suddenly, her eyes were locked with the cobalt gaze of Ralph. A pent of annoyance went up through her - what did he want? After all, he made no move to interrupt Jack's spiteful actions, and he was the one to encourage Piggy's humiliation. She sat up quickly - too quickly - and nearly banged her forehead on Ralph's. Sweaty and embarrassed, Louise tried to look away, but once again, the blue gaze kept drawing her back, like the recessing tide of the dark sea.

"He didn't mean it," Ralph muttered quietly, rolling his eyes in annoyance at the redhead. "He's just being a git. Brush it off."

Brush it off? Easy for you to say. You've never been teased or taunted. You're Golden Boy, remember? You get all A's in Latin, and you're everyone's favorite. Even the cocky choir is impressed by you.

Louise managed to restrain her thoughts and nod at Ralph, allowing herself to keep peace. Let it go. Ralph helped her up and steadied her wobbly stance, smiling slightly as she leaned into him to catch her balance. The girl felt as if her insides were on fire when her eyes struck the expressions of the choir, all giggly and simpering.

Idiots.

Ralph had moved onto handing out more orders - something about a fire, she thought. But her mind drifted as the conversation droned on and on. The boys made an effort to exclude her, which hardly fazed the brunette at all. She was used to it by now. Suddenly, the Jack and Simon were wandering towards the forest, followed by an eager looking Ralph. He placed a gentle hand upon her shoulder as he passed her, awaking her from whatever daydream consumed her at the time. Louise looked up and met his warm smile. He gave her shoulder a friendly pat and gestured towards her wounds.

"We'll fix you up when I get back, alright?"

Louise nodded stiffly and Ralph went on.

"Don't worry about Jack, he's just immature."

Immature. Louise watched as the blonde ran to keep up with the other two boys, all the while grinning as if he had never been happier. It was right then and there that Louise decided that perhaps Gracie was the fortunate one.

A/N: I hope that wasn't too horrible, and I really hope I succeeded in making this realistic...kind of. Then again, the whole idea of LotF isn't really realistic. A bunch of kids miraculously survive a plane crash, but all the adults die? DOUBTFUL. Kidding. I love LotF. It's my life. That's one thing wrong with me.

P.S: RIP Gracie, who symbolizes Mary-Sue's. You were crushed in the plane crash, thank god.

Bonus Content (because I've decided to do this from now on):

Jack Merridew: *grins* Hello, ladies, look at your man, now back to me, now back at your man, now back to me. *is now sitting in a recliner* Sadly, he isn't me, but if he stopped using order and conches and switched to Sexy Savage, he could act like he's me. *gets up and starts walking through ominous scenery* Look down, back up, where are you? *is now on a speed boat* You're on a boat with the man your man could act like. What's in your hand, *has Piggy's glasses* back at me. I have it, it's some glasses with one lens to make a fire. Look again, the glasses are now diamonds. Anything is possible when your man acts like Sexy Savage and not a douche. *is on a horse* I'm on a horse. With Roger. *Roger is on back of the horse with awkward smile*

END. :D