Author's Note: I would be very grateful if everyone who read this short story reviewed. This is my Englsih homework and I would like some feedback. I would like to know what is good and what needs to be improved by the time I hand it in. Thank you very much! I hope you enjoy this!
Alternate Ending to Lord of the Flies
Ralph stumbled over a root and the cry that pursed him rose even higher. He saw a shelter burst into flames and the fire flapped at his right shoulder and there was the glitter of water. Then Ralph was down, rolling over and over in the warm sand, crouching with an arm to ward off, trying to cry for mercy.
He stumbled to his feet and took a quick glance behind him. The savages were nearly fifteen meters behind him. Ralph began to run despite what his body was telling him. His lungs were on fire and he could no longer feel his bony legs. Ralph's once fair hair was covered in sand and dirt that had attached to him when he had tripped. He was so tired and didn't know how much longer he could last, but only one thought etched itself into his mind. He had to get away, very far away.
Ralph had to get away; he had to get away from the savages that were once friendly, school boys. He had to get away from this godforsaken island that had stolen every essence of their former selves. The place that had once been a pleasant escape from reality had quickly become the world's scariest and most dangerous nightmare. But this was much worse than an ordinary nightmare. Tragedy happens in a nightmare and you come out unharmed. Not the same can be said on the Island of the Savages.
The tribe of savages were quickly gaining up on Ralph and he tried to push himself even harder. He just had to run a bit faster and then he could hide from them. He would have a chance, a small chance, but a chance none the less.
Unfortunately, Ralph wasn't completely aware of his surroundings as he running. In front of him was the large area where the littluns played. There were dozens upon dozens of small sand castles lying on the warm, yellow sand. Yes it was a wonderful place to play, but it was dangerous. Throughout the small section of the beach were small, jagged rocks that could pierce your skin if you weren't careful enough.
Not seeing the castles in front of him, Ralph fell into one of them and hit his head on one of the larger rocks on the beach. Ralph's body began to relax despite the horrible pain on the top of his head and a comforting darkness consumed Ralph quickly. Even though Ralph knew of the dangers that were after him, he couldn't help but enjoy the pleasantness the darkness provided.
Ralph didn't know how long he was out for. It could have been have been minutes or it could have been hours. All Ralph was that when he had fallen into the darkness, he was his beach. Now he was conveniently located on the opposite end of the island. He was on the beach near Castle Rock.
The savages were standing above him. Their faces were covered in the horrid war paint that had caused the destruction of civilization. The faces showed no emotion. No pity, no regret, not even a hint of remorse. The only thing they seemed to care about now was the spears that they were pointing toward him. The spears that Ralph feared would end his short life. No words could describe the terror Ralph was experiencing at that moment.
It wasn't only the two-headed spears that was scaring the nearly thirteen year old boy. The savage with fiery red hair was standing above him with his spear pointing at Ralph's barely moving chest. The war paint covered every inch of his body and he was ready to put his spear to good use at any given moment. His blue eyes were sparkling with hatred and an evil grin was planted on his disgusting face. Jack Merridew, head of the choir boys and the island's only dictator, was what Ralph feared the most on this island.
"Jack, please, you don't need to do this," Ralph pleaded in a quiet, desperate voice. Convincing Jack was the only way he could possibly live.
"Oh, but I do, Ralph. Oh, but I do," taunted Jack as he moved his spear closer to Ralph.
"Please, we can settle this like gentlemen. We are British after all."
Jack spat at Ralph's face in disgust. "We are no longer British. We are man and man has no reason to settle with the likes of people like you."
"You're going to kill me because I'm logical? Because I'm the outside."
"You are not like us Ralph. You are different and I don't like it. I can't stand the sight of you or smell of you or the looks of you. That is why you must die."
Ralph gulped. He was in a lot of trouble now. Trouble which he was afraid he could never get out of. Ralph knew this is where and when he was going to die.
It was then he realized everything Simon had said. He had just noticed what Simon meant when he had said the beast was them. Well-mannered boys were far gone and barbaric men took over. There was no law to save the weak and the power of mind control vanished. They were no longer humans, but vicious animals wanting to kill for the pleasure of killing. It was sick and twisted.
Jack placed his spear on Ralph's throat. Ralph could hardly breathe now and any breaths came out as short gasps. His lips were slowly turning a light blue and he knew that the pressure of the spear needed to be lifted in order for him to breathe.
"Any last words, Ralph?" yelled Jack as all the boys on the island gathered around to watch their once beloved chief die.
"You are the beast, Jack, and you will die because of it!" growled Ralph.
Jack's eyes flashed in anger and took his long, wooden spear and slit Ralph's small throat. Blood quickly leaked out of the large mark and Ralph's chest suddenly stopped. The warm air became cool and no sound was heard as Ralph left the island for a much better place.
The littluns, including Samneric, began to cry as they witnessed their first murder. It was unimaginably painful to see their man with the megaphone die at the hands of Jack Merridew. Even with the war paint on their faces, their insecurities began to show and large tears began to fall on their dirty faces.
Samneric took it the hardest. It was their fault that Ralph had died. They couldn't handle the torturing Roger and Jack had placed upon them. They were the ones who gave up Ralph's very secretive hiding place. If they only had shut their mouths, Ralph would be alive at this moment and not a bloody heap on the beach.
Jack had no emotion now. He was still standing over the dead body he had murdered and he felt no remorse. No pain, no sorrow. It was as if Jack was no longer human. He was the beast Ralph had mentioned. He was the most inhuman person on the island and Jack was proud. Jack was a man who could take on anything.
"Well, let's get rid of this bloody thing," demanded Roger as he kicked Ralph's dead body toward the sea. "It's no use keeping his bloody body around. It's not like there's any meat on it anyway."
"You are right, of course," replied Jack. He turned toward the other savages. "Well, you heard him, move this damn thing off the beach. There's no use of keeping any memory of him here. He was useless and disgusting. It was time he was discarded anyway."
Without another word, the savages kicked Ralph's toward the sea and eventually the current pick it up and dragged Ralph toward the sea. The savages never saw the body after the sea had taken it. Ralph no longer belonged to the body anyway. The body now belonged to the sea, just as Simon's and Piggy's bodies no longer belonged to them.
It was tough watching their old chief go. It wasn't something any of them had to deal with. The littluns had tears dripping down their fat cheeks. Samneric were now crying hysterically, not caring who was watching them or how they would judge them. Even the choir boys, who usually felt protected by the war paint, were crying freely. The only people who seemed unaffected about Ralph's death were Roger and Jack. Whether it was the war paint or the beast inside of them, they boys just didn't care about anyone or anything except themselves. It was sad really.
Jack looked around at the other boys. Seeing their pathetic faces crying made Jack angry. What was the matter with them? They should be happy that he was gone. All he did was cause problems and wouldn't let them hunt. It was a blessing to Jack, so why wasn't it a blessing for the others? They were just ungrateful little brats and they had to pay!
"Stop crying you bunch of babies!" yelled Jack in anger. All the boys turned their attention to Jack. They tried to stop the tears from flowing, but a tear or two escaped their ducts despite their efforts.
"You should be grateful," continued Jack. "I saved you! I saved you from the beast and how do you repay me? You cry over something that you were hunting? You're bloody hypocrites! Yes, that's what you are!"
By the end of his long rant, Jack's face was redder than his hair. Jack was shaking in anger and his eyes looked as they were about to pop any second now. With his bloody spear in his hand, Jack looked like a deranged murder. His mind looked as if it was about to snap.
All the other savages were scared; they had never seen their chief in this state. It was beyond frightening and any tears that had fallen were quickly wiped and they cowered.
Jack saw the others fear and quickly composed himself. He stood up straight, to show power, and Jack looked down to the others. "Now, go to the fort."
Wasting no time, the savages ran as fast as they could to Castle Rock. The only two savages to stay behind were Roger and Jack.
Roger stood up to Jack's height and looked into the chief's eyes. "You do not scare me, Jack," said Roger calmly.
"I don't need your fear, Roger," replied Jack, just as calmly.
"I believe you do."
"Oh, but I believe you are mistaken."
"I don't believe I am, but there is one problem I have."
"And what is that?"
"You, Jack, are not fit to rule. You do not provide the fear that I placed upon these runts. You are coward and don't fight like a warrior. A warrior kills even when their victim is passed out. You, on the other hand, waited until he woke. That is despicable."
Jack looked taken back by Roger's comment. No one, other than Ralph, attempted to talk back to him. Jack didn't like this. He was chief. He ruled the tribe. He decided on how to kill his victims. Yet Roger, had the urge to tell him how to and how not to kill something. After all, Roger couldn't even stab his victim; he had to push a rock on to him. That is a coward.
"It doesn't matter think, Roger. I am chief and as chief, I choose my method on how to kill my victim. I do not need advice from my follower."
"That is another problem, Jack. Your time as ruler is over. It's my turn."
"You will never rule, Roger. I am chief."
Both savages raised their spears to each others chests. Their eyes stared at one another for a few moments. Neither dared to look away and both were waiting for the other to make the first move.
Finally after many minutes of waiting, both Roger and Jack stabbed at each other. Roger had slit Jack's throat, while Jack stabbed his spear through Roger's chest. Both fell to the ground, dead.
The whites in their eyes vanished and paleness covered their once tan bodies. Blood covered both corpses and both sets of blood intermingled with the others. Their bodies didn't move and not even the current dared to take the bodies.
The fire was once a symbol for civilization. It was to be used as a rescue device; it was going to save the boys from the harm of the island. Unfortunately, all civilization in the fire disappeared and the fire that the savages stole and created for uncivilization consumed the island. The fire stole bodies of Jack and Roger. It quickly went through Castle Rock and murdered all the savages left behind.
There was no longer a trace of human on the island. The happiness of the fire before the plane crash was replaced with the sadness of the ashes. All that was good was now evil. The lack of laws destroyed everything from many innocent children to the once beautiful island. The Lord of the Flies had taken over the boys and completed its mission; to destroy humanity.
