Simon's eyelids felt too heavy to lift, so he remained curled up under a mountain of quilts and blankets until the increasing light refused to let him sleep any longer. He looked around the room, searching for the origin of the light, but saw neither windows nor lamps. Everything else about his room seemed usual, the bed was small and brown, the walls an olive green. The only bright thing in the room, a prickly cactus plant with blooming yellow flowers, was a gift from his father. But what happened to the table lamp? The oval shaped window? The light appeared to be illuminating from all areas.
Simon thought he had better get dressed for the day, and wondered over toward the dresser and mirror. He stared back at his reflection, and gasped at what he saw. His baby fat had lessened and he had grown a couple inches. Long black hair barely covered the scars and scabs that consumed his face. The shocking contrast between the pale skin and scars gave Simon a demeanor of a dead man. The dead man, Simon thought, the thunder, the lightning. The blusterous storm that stimulated a swarm of boy to insanity. Simon rubbed his eyes to get rid of the painful images. He was confused. If he was dead, he wouldn't be in his room. He wouldn't have a headache or be feeling hungry. He would be up in heaven, sipping lemonade with Grandma Keri.
Simon was debating what to do next when a note was slid under the door. He picked it up but didn't open it right away. There were so many questions crammed into his head he had no time to think about every one. He went back to his bed and sat, ripping open the envelope.
Open the door.
With the paranoia Simon had acquired from the island, he grabbed the cactus' pot to use in defense. He approached the door with caution, one foot placed slowly after the other. Since one hand was need to hold the cactus, Simon used the other to twist the doorknob. He opened the door, but stayed, hidden, behind it. At first there was silence. `
"Simon?" came a familiar voice.
Simon peaked out from behind the door.
"Simon!" Piggy smiled a brilliant smile, "You're awake! Well, dead, really. I just woke up 'bout an hour ago, or was it two? Anyhow, James here saw my name on the doorknob and knocked. Thats how we found you." Simon looked toward the boy with a black mark on his cheek, now noticeably older than before. He was bending over, reading a name on the door tag. Simon looked down the seemingly endless hallway, the doors were spaced in eight-foot intervals and lined both walls. A brilliant light shown from the far end.
"Where are we?" Simon asked.
"Well, we're not in heaven. That's for sure." Piggy pointed toward the end of the hall, "I s'pose we have to walk into the light. That's what they always do in the movies, anyway. James didn't want to go alone, so he's been waiting around for days, just readin names... So. Shall we get going?" Piggy turned toward the end of the hall, still smiling.
"Wait." Simon furrowed his brow. James stopped searching for names and came to stand with Piggy. All this was a lot to comprehend. Simon thought about asking questions about their deaths, but thought better of it. Instead, he smiled. "Okay. I'm ready"
Simon was ready for good. He was ready to have lemonade with Grandma Keri. He was ready to shake off all the pain and suffering the island had caused, all the cruelty and evil. He was ready for the light.