NOTE: This story is based on the 1990 version of LOTF, but is set in modern times (2012 atm) . Yes, I was thoroughly disappointed with the depiction of LOTF in the movie, BUT the setting/time period/and military 'statute' fit this idea. I will try to incorporate as many ideas as I can from the original LOTF by William Golding. On that note, I do not own ANY of the material from LOTF, just the OCs. Keep in mind that in this version, the boys were around fifteen when they crashed on the island, more or less. Leave a review and ENJOY! : )
HAILEE ANDREWS sat in front of her mirror admiring herself. From the way her blonde wavy hair framed her delicate features to the contrast between her stunning blue eyes and her golden skin, Hailee knew she was beautiful, and showed it.
But something under that pretty face and cute smile lurked like a dark awakening blossoming in her sixteen-year-old self. Hailee had a secret, and although she would never admit it, she knew it was quite plain.
It had been two months since Ralph, her younger brother, had been rescued. She remembered how timid her mother had been when giving her the news that he had disappeared in the first place, that the plane taking his school off to France had crashed and nobody knew of its whereabouts. Her mother had broken on the spot. She fell down and wept on Hailee's floor, crying and sobbing for her son. Hailee had sat exactly where she sat now, at her vanity table, a hair straightener in one hand and her Ipod in the other. A month later, her mother had bounded up the stairs, blonde hair flopping in a messy ponytail when she yelled at Hailee to get dressed and get in the car. Why? Hailee's mother hadn't said until they reached airport where she finally twisted around to look at both Hailee and her husband to tell them that Ralph had been found. They all had been found, and they were okay.
Ralph and Hailee had always been close. Popular in nature, Hailee starred as being so pretty and awesome on the volleyball team. Ralph had shone in similar ways, being handsome and equally as talented in various sports. They were alike in the way they enjoyed pleasing people and having a hell of a time, whether it was at a friend's birthday party or the annual New Years Eve celebration dinner their cousin Maxine threw each year. But after Ralph had been reunited with his family, he had been acting...odd. Hailee noticed it as soon as they saw him emerge from the plane, hair long and messy, eyes blank and gone. When he smiled, she could tell that inside he was screaming, but no matter how much she asked, no matter how much she told him that he could trust her, he would never say exactly what happened on that island. Whatever it was, it had changed him, altered him so much, he wouldn't even play Modern Warfare or whatever Call of Duty video games he used to be so obsessed with.
Hailee put down the brush she was holding and drew a deep breath. Ralph had to tell her what had happened, right? She was his sister, for god's sake, not one of the bratty kids he had been forced to put up with for so many months. Besides, if anything had have happened. Hailee assumed that Ralph would've been the leader of it and that's why he was so dark now. He would've had to have been the leader. He was popular. That's just how it went...well, at least that's how it went in Hailee's eyes.
"LOOK AT MY NEW TAT," CHRISTINA MERRIDEW said proudly as her brother suavely entered the room. Jack turned around with the snap of his fingers and stared at the sun that was now imprinted on his twenty-three year old sister's ankle.
"Sweet," He admired, nodding in approval. "How many is that now?"
"Six," Christina said, flopping down on the couch and reaching for her phone. Sabrina would be dying to see her new tattoo addition. "It matches the moon on my wrist." She gestured to the dark blue moon that covered the just of her wrist.
Jack stared in envy, and for a brief moment, the feeling of having his own body masked by paint returned to him. It was an exhilarating feeling, and from the way his sister stared in awe down at her new tattoo, he could tell she would've felt the same way had she been on the island with him.
"Yeah," He said, trying to mask the flash of jealousy in his voice. Everyone said that he was like Christina, not only in looks but in personality, too. They both had light blonde hair and clear grey eyes with tall, sturdy bodies. Like Jack, Christina was kicked out of most her schools, and eventually landed up in St. Catherine's Catholic Girl's School Military Branch in Idaho. It was like the boarding school Jack attended before the plane crash, but for girls. She graduated there (barely) and went on to buy an apartment in Los Angeles. Christina wasn't around much anymore, and although Jack would never admit it, that saddened him. He liked Christina's company. She understood him. When he confessed to her that it was his doing that Simon and Piggy had died on the island, she only nodded and shrugged.
"I guess somebody had to do it," She had said, sending a chill of relief down Jack's spine.
He plopped down next to his sister on the couch, staring mindlessly as she texted back Sabrina.
"When do you go back to L.A?" He asked, hiding the urgency in his voice.
Christina's answer was instant. "Three days."
"Do you have to?"
She smiled when she saw his pleading expression.
"Yeah," she answered, clicking her phone off and looking at her brother. "I do."
Suddenly there was the noise of somebody trampling up the stairs, and to both Jack and Christina's dismay, their youngest sibling arrived at the top of the stairs, her light blonde hair hanging loosely from her shoulders.
"What do you want, Sophia?" Jack hissed. Naturally, he didn't like Sophia, especially after the plane crash. She reminded him too much of Piggy, and although she was skinny and didn't wear specs, she was a tattle-tale and always doing the 'grown-up' thing. Hell, she was only five! What did she know about grown ups! Jack disliked little kids in general, but Sophia was a pest and compared to her older siblings, she was weak.
"Roger's waiting outside for you," Sophia said smartly, like five-year-olds tend to do.
Out of all the people on the island, Jack had only kept in touch with Maurice and Roger. He had known Roger his entire life, for he only lived a few streets away. They had been through practically everything together, from pre-school to military school, and then the plane crash...
Maurice lived about twenty minutes away, so the three saw each other often, and each encounter brought the boys closer and closer together. They would sometimes sit and reminisce about life on the island, life with power and authority. Those were the nice times.
Jack huffed as he arose from his seat and stared distastefully at his younger sister. "Tell him I'll be there in a few minutes."
DEREK MOYER KNEW HIS YOUNGER BROTHER WAS STRANGE. since he had been rescued from that island, Roger had been a bit off, like something wrong had clicked in his mind. He had always been troubled and suffered from ADHD and a tendency for violence, but it was never severe. Roger was prone to fighting, but nothing serious, nothing dangerous. Just rough housing, like most fourteen year olds. Derek had fought had Roger's age, and thought it was normal, so when his parents sent his little brother off to a military school for correction, he was appalled and confused. Then all that dreadful mess with the plane erupted, but when the Moyer's received the call to come pick up Roger, Derek had never been happier. But the brother he greeted at the airport had not been the same as the brother that had left for boarding school. There was a cold glint in Roger's eyes, and he was constantly shifting around. He spoke weirdly, often short answers, and became reclusive and quiet.
Derek knew his brother had developed a fascination with blood. The day after they picked up Roger from the airport, Derek caught the raven haired boy playing with a dead bird, toying with the blood that spilled from the wound on its head. What happened on that island? Derek wasn't sure, but he was worried. He was getting ready to head off to college in a few months-NYU, to be precise-and was concerned what would happen to Roger when he left. He had managed to help Roger keep his little obsessions to himself, but what if one day he slipped up and their mother caught him dissecting another animal? Would she send him away? Maybe, but worse-what if Roger was crazy? What if that animal one day wasn't an animal, but a...a...a
Derek couldn't even bring himself to say it. He knew that two boys had died on that island, and he knew exactly who was behind it.
Derek Moyer knew his younger brother was strange.
"I WILL NOT PANIC, I WILL NOT PANIC," HEATHER WATERFORD insisted as she stood outside of her brother's old room. His "Abbey Road" Beatles poster still clung to his door, but the tape had fallen off on one side and it was ripped in a corner. Heather hadn't been inside his room since...well...
The only thing anybody had said to Heather since her brother's death was that she looked like him and acted like him. Heather would be quietly reading a book, and her teacher would walk by and snivel, "You're just like your brother. Always reading."
Heather would wear a hoodie, and one of her brother's old friends would sadly comment, "Your brother used to wear hoodies."
Whenever Heather tapped her lip like she did when she was nervous or raked back her coarse black hair with one nail-bitten hand, someone, anyone would cry, "Oh my gosh, you look just like your brother when you do that."
Did she really? Heather didn't like to admit that she too saw the similarities. The dark hair, bright eyes, inquisitive look...she could hardly stand it. She had stopped looking in the mirror and avoided doing anything that would reminded her of him. That included reading anything by Ray Bradbury, George Orwell, or even Mark Twain, for those were his favorite authors. She couldn't listen to alternative music like Coldplay or old bands like the Beatles (Oh my god, especially not the Beatles-they were his life!) without breaking down into tears, and if she ever saw the movie Dead Poet's Society, she knew it would crush her and break her heart all over again. He loved all those things-he loved nearly everything, which was what made him so special. He never would take, and he was about the only person Heather knew that wasn't consumed by guilt, greed, or hate. He felt no feelings of hate. He didn't want to newest Xbox or Iphone. Unlike most materialistic teenagers, Heather's brother preferred a book to read or a tree to climb-simplistic matters. He was such a good person, such a pure soul!-So why was he the one to die?
Heather couldn't wrap her head around it. Nobody ever disliked him...nobody could. He was just too genuine, too kind. She didn't understand how somebody could've hurt him..killed him, like he was an animal. Like he was a beast. Heather sadly snickered at the thought. Her brother a beast? He was about as beastly as he was impertinent, which he wasn't. Her family had been told that it was an accident, that he had stumbled in on some tribal 'dance' his peers were performing. Tribal dance? Where would they have even learned a dance? It just didn't add up to Heather. Something had happened on that island, and whatever it was, it had taken her brother.
Exhaling all her fear and feelings of grief, Heather slowly opened the door to her brother's room. It creaked because it hadn't been used in nearly four months. She squeezed her eyes shut and when she opened them, she saw what looked to be fourteen-year-old boy's room. A living boy's room.
But her mind was playing tricks on her, like it often did.
Everything was in place, like her brother had simply gone out for a sleepover or to ride his skateboard. Clothes were spilling out of his drawers, and his bed was neatly made up, a few pillows thrown over the end. His bookshelf was overflowing with novels-Bradbury, Orwell, and of course, Twain. His computer was set up on his desk, and Heather knew if she turned it on she would find the picture of him and his best friend Daniel as the background. A pair of Vans were slid neatly by the door, and his favorite hoodie hung in the corner. It was too much-the pictures of her brother and herself that littered his shelves, the various posters hung up by the wall, the smell of old books and whatever mute cologne he used to use. She was breaking. This was all too overwhelming...it was just like he was still alive...it was like he was downstairs.
Simon?
"Stop it!" She yelled at herself. What if he was downstairs? What if was running through the door, skateboard in hand, to greet their mother.
Mom! I'm home!
"He's gone!" Heather screamed, her mind spinning at the cruel image of a family portrait hanging over his bed. Maybe he was racing up the stairs, discarding of his beat up converse and ratty baseball cap.
Heather! I'm home.
"Shut up!" She scolded herself, falling back against the wall, knees threatening to buckle over.
Heather? Are you here?
"He's gone!" Tears streamed down her face, leaving behind dirty evidence that she had been in his room and seen it-
"I'm here, Heather. Aren't you?"
"You're dead!" She yelled into his empty room, her voice echoing off the walls. It was like a dark abyss was swallowing her whole. "You're dead!"
The truth of her own words frightened her and shook her to her core, so much that she stumbled out of the room littered with George Orwell and Beatles posters, Mark Twain and his kit of tin soldiers. She slammed the door shut to his room, and in doing so, slammed the door shut to Simon.
"You're dead," She murmured one last time before everything went black.
Thanks for reading guys! It's starting off a little slow but don't worry, it'll get better. As a warning this fanfiction will contain disturbing themes, and don't worry, I will get to the other boys's families as well, I just decided to cover the first few. Piggy is a biggy (lol) in character terms, but I thought I'd make him an only child, so I couldn't exactly incorporate how his sibling's were doing if he's an only child...Anyways, his family will be in it SOMEHOW and feel free to leave suggestions, critique, or praise in that little review box down there : ) Also, comment anything that you would like to see happen and I'll do my best to make it work. I love all my reviewers and readers so PLEASE R&R. Alrighty, I'm !