Author's Notes: This story was written for an English extra credit assignment.
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Flies, nor do I own the bar name Prancing Pony
London this time of night was cold and damp. The street lights provided a hardly usable pathway for a person to walk through in the dark. In between these lights were houses with windows, letting the world see what happened behind closed doors. Inside were merry people, laughing, singing, and loving; completely amiss to the outside world. These windows into a happy world provided a mocking light, letting the pedestrians know that this was something that they could not have.
The alleys on the other hand seemed more appealing, something that was on their level of achievement. These alleys however provided not a meager light for a path, but a light for a fear of what could happen if one were to tread down that way. It was best to stay away.
Amongst the path of lights was figure walking outside. He walked towards a bar, a bar known as "The Prancing Pony." At the same time there was a person inside the bar. A young man about the age of thirty sat at the bar itself. He was a young man with fair hair and blue eyes: eyes with a look too old for their years. This man's name was Ralph, and he was currently drinking stale beer.
This particular bar had smoke; smoke so thick that the lights that went on and off frequently looked not like the pleasant joy of a disgusting habit, but of a two faced grin that only meant trouble. These lights seemed like eyes, eyes that could see you, yet eyes that you could not see. Almost like the creepers. Ralph ignored this obvious comparison and continued to drink.
Soon after Ralph finished his beer, the door opened, and for the first time in almost twenty years, Ralph saw the one who is called Jack Merridew.
Ralph stared dumbly and unlike Ralph who noticed Jack, Jack did not notice Ralph. Or at least that is what Ralph thought until Jack turned his head towards him and their eyes locked for a moment.
The gaze of these eyes showed wisdom achieved through non conventional means, as well as pain that no one should ever suffer. Their staring contest ended, and this time however, Jack broke the stare and walked to a table in the far corner, hidden by the smoke.
Ralph thought for a moment and ordered two more stale beers. He picked them up, braved the smoke, and walked over to Jack's table. Jack looked up, and Ralph had a good look at him. Jack had grown up; his face had aged and he now looked almost handsome, his hair had remained the same, and other than a few extra emotions that had not been present before, so were his eyes.
Jack made no comment as Ralph sat down opposite him. He handed Jack the beer, and they clinked the glasses in a sorry excuse for a "Cheers."
Ralph entered his apartment about three hours later staggering a bit, and in complete shock that he had managed to get that far. He looked around for a moment and soon collapsed on the floor, as he started to sob. He had not cried like that since they were rescued. Now even as an adult, he had no worries to cry like this, to cry for all that had been lost, as well as the things that he had gained.
But what Ralph didn't know was that more than two hours away by car, the one called Jack Merridew was lying on his own floor crying out his own eyes.
Maybe they were crazy or just plain stupid for not tracking each other down before and sorting everything out as they just had with absolutely no words. Or perhaps it was just the beer.