A/N: This was an English assignment that turned into a bit of fanfic. It was weird. Never did I imagine I would write fanfic for freakin' Lord of the Flies. But oh well. Here this is.
I was told to write about Jack's experience on the first and last days on the island from his own perspective. Let the madness ensue.
Journal of Jack Merridew, first day on the Island
We crashed on an island. We were supposed to be on our way to America, heck, I suppose we would have arrived by now if not for the crash. But now we aren't. And the other choir boys and I woke up scattered around a beach on the island.
Once the others had woken, we tried to collect our wits. Don't really know if that turned out so well. There were bits of broken up airplane scattered all around us, and I realized that some dangerously hot or sharp pieces of metal had come quite close to impaling us. Really, it's a miracle none us were killed.
Then we heard it. The sound of a horn spread loud and clear over the island, echoing nicely in ravines and valleys, bouncing off the very side of the mountain that stood over us. The other choir boys seemed quite anxious to answer the call, but I was hesitant. There was no way of knowing who had sounded that horn, and if they meant us any harm. But Roger and Simon seemed quite intent on going, so I led them away toward the direction of the horn.
As we walked closer and closer to the horn, which blew intermittently as the blower took breaks to catch his breath, the beach grew clearer of debris. I guess the plane didn't fly over that area where the hornblower waited. As we went along, we came across more and more boys ho had also been marooned on this island. A great many of them were below the age of seven, only a few closer to my own age of ten. So far, I haven't seen another boy older than myself besides Ralph.
As we made our way slowly down the beach toward the sound of the horn, the littluns ran ahead of us and disappeared into the haze and the trees. As we continued our trek, little boys could be seen flickering in and out of view in the trees, holding pieces of fruit or chasing one another. I would have laughed at the time if it wasn't so hot.
The sun was beating down on us, though it did slowly sink lower and lower into the sky. The heat didn't grow any less, though. The humidity was enough to put down a bear, but still we went on. When we finally reached the place where the hornblower stood, now surrounded by littluns and biguns alike and holding a large shell delicately in his hands.
This boy, Ralph, has a commanding air about him. I don't think the rest of the boys on the island would have voted him chief if he didn't. He was very quiet, and thoughtful. I really think Ralph might be able to save us, get us off this island. Because if not he, then who?
The answer is me, obviously. But here's another question. Do we really need to leave the island? We have everything we need here: food, water, we'll have shelters soon enough.
Ralph seemed to be the only one older than me, and if was only by a few measly months. If Ralph was taken out of the way, then the others might vote me to be chief, and then we might be able to focus on more important things other than a stupid signal fire, which almost killed all of us tonight. Which most likely killed that boy with the birthmark. If it wasn't for Ralph and his signal fire, that littlun might still be alive. No, if Ralph was gotten out of the way, then we could focus on getting something more to eat other than fruit and coconut meat.
Speaking of meat, when we were walking along the beach, I saw a group of pigs resting in the shade. I also saw straight sticks and rocks that look as if they could be used as a spearhead. I could kill one of those pigs, get us some actual dinner.
For now, it seems as though Ralph and I might be friends. He is good, but soft. He doesn't have the strength to get us what we need. He thinks we need to leave this island, but he's wrong. We'll be fine here, safe from this bloody war.
Yes, for now, Ralph can stay chief. We'll see what happens.