Rattle

A Lord of the Flies continuation

Ten years after the events of Lord of the Flies, we find ourselves on the outskirts of London, in a small town. It is very occupied with factories and people that have very little. This is natural. This is also where we find Ralph, now living as an adult with the memories of what happened on the island still affecting his every day life.

The original book is an adventure that is about a group of English school boys. This book can also be very grotesque, as two boys are killed in a very violent manner by the others. The deaths of Simon, which Ralph believes he could have stopped; and the death of Piggy, will take him apart. He is trying his best to cope with what happened, but even after many years of therapy he still cannot. Neither may the others.

Part 1:
Streets of the Savage

The loud, whistling train was whipping by for about the one-hundredth morning in a row. Ralph had lived in this terrible little house ever since he finished school. There was no point staying where he was. It was full of people. Of humans. Monsters. The train seemed to shake much of the foundation, and the house became more drafty. The blonde man pulled the blankets up to his chin, trying to block out the world beyond the thin walls.

Once the train had finally passed, Ralph took that as a sign to finally start getting ready. He slid out of bed letting his feet roughly hit the cold floor. Pulling his feet up again he debated just missing today all together. However he had not been at work nor his appointments for three days. He forced his feet back to the floor and almost ran to the dark bathroom. Turning the rusty water taps on the shower before jumping in. He gave himself a quick wash before turning the water off and sauntering to the sink. Ralph raised a rough hand to his jaw. Not too much stubble. He decided he may skip a shave today. He walked back out to his bedroom and looked at the clock on the wall, ticking away. Still two hours before work. He sat down on the edge of his bed and opened up the drawer on his side table, pulling out the old, broken glasses from a handkerchief. Piggy's specs.

The ship was drifting further and further away from the island. What was left of the island. Ashe and blood. That's all there would ever be. More tears welling up in his eyes. He was finally going home, but without the boy with specs. He leaned down against the wall, cold metal against his back, hugging his knees to his chest. Footsteps shuffled towards him.

'Ralph…'

He didn't look up. He didn't have to in order to know who it was.

'Ralph, I'm…I'm sorry.' The other shuffled closer.

'Get away from me!' Ralph snapped, making the other tense. He slowly lowered himself to the ground.

'I didn't mean for it…I just. I wanted-'

'What? What did you want Jack? You didn't want Piggy to die? You didn't intend to kill Simon? You are a murderer Jack! We are all murderers!'

'Simon was an accident, we all know that.' There was a strain in his voice, 'Piggy wasn't…he was in the wrong place at the wrong time! It wasn't my fault that Roger-'

'That's right. Just blame other people. Piggy is dead because of you! You are a monster, Jack!'

The red head shot up, 'Fine. I'm not sorry. Even after he's dead it's still just Piggy, Piggy, Piggy.'

Something hit the ground in between them with a crack. 'Keep believing whatever you want Ralph.'

The blonde waited until Jack had shuffled away before looking up and reaching over to the spectacles on the ground, both lenses now destroyed.

'Piggy…what do I do?'

He shuddered as he ran his finger over the metal frames. That was so long ago, but the memory was fresh in his mind. Ralph wrapped the glasses up again, placing them back in the drawer. Almost twenty minutes later he picked up his now dry body off of his bed and began to dress. Nothing special. He was a line worker, lived close to the factory. So of course he wore coveralls. Under he had some regular pants and a button up. He had to go see his therapist after work, and he felt out of place when he came in wearing dirty work clothes.

Ralph went into the small kitchen, it had a small wooden table shoved in the corner, facing a equally small window which faced out to the tracks. He ate in silence as another train proceeded by. The house was always silent. Except for the trains. Ralph had no telephone, he had no friends. He did not want to associate with people. To him they were all savages. Even himself. At this he avoided mirrors at the fear of seeing a murderer. This is the way it had been, ever since the island.

Once done breakfast, he brushed his teeth and headed for the door. Making sure it was locker firmly behind him, he began down the dirt road. One of the most difficult parts of his mornings was walking past the elementary school. It was for children who lived in the area. A very run down and dirty area. The children just as run down and dirty. To Ralph they looked like savages. They were all painted. Sunk in eyes staring at him as he walked by, some yelling after each other. Keeping eye of his every step as they sharpened their spears. Animals. He almost retched when he saw this one kid. A small boy standing by the fence. He was away from the others, he was different. Ralph had to pick up his pace.

The blonde let out the breath he didn't realize he had been holding. His hands still shaking when he got to the factory.