Hi there. This is for a big literary project I have to do, and it will be broken down into a couple of chapters. Any criticism I would greatly appreciate!
"I should have thought… I should have thought that a pack of British boys… you're all British, aren't you? – would have been able to put up a better show than that… I mean..."
The officer's words seemed to remain stuck in Ralph's head. Along with quite a few other things. A grownup was back in their lives, and with him, reason and order. However, in Ralph's mind, there was anything but order and reason. The boy sometimes wondered if those two concepts actually existed, or were society's largest lies. There was certainly a lack of order and reason on that island. And now that the boys were off it, Ralph should have been relieved for what he had been trying to achieve since the first day. He should have been happy that he was going home, back to normalcy. But he was not. Something ate away at his soul, though Ralph could not begin to identify what it was. It weighed down upon him, made him empty inside. It made him fear every noise, every sound, and every movement. It made him scared of himself and what he was able to do; what humanity was able to do. He couldn't explain this to the man that rescued them. He had admittedly thrown a tantrum fitting for a small child, right before he had taken them on the ship.
"Keep me away from them!" He had screamed. "I won't go near them!" Jack hadn't said a word since they had all set the island on fire, and chased him onto the beach like a hunted animal. They had all turned into animals…Except Simon…
No, he would not think of it.
The naval officer, who had introduced himself as Mr. George, had not completely understood Ralph's fears, but gave him what he requested. Mr. George turned out to be the commander of the ship they were now on and let Ralph stay in his quarters. The boy would have not known what to do if he had been forced to remain with the other boys. The rest of them stay huddled together down in the galley. The men of the ship had washed their face paint off and given them fresh clothing that hung too big on all of them, especially the littluns. This had not warranted any complaints from the boys. It was silence for nearly all of them. No one wanted to speak and describe what had occurred.
Ralph sat in a spare chair that had been brought to Mr. George's chamber. He did not look at up at the doctor and commander that looked over him. He could hear the doctor scribbling down notes on paper. His head was lowered in shame, in guilt, in terror.
Mr. George cleared his throat. "Hullo? Boy, you have to talk. No one else is speaking to us since I found you. And you mentioned deaths on this island? What happened?" Ralph did not respond, feeling the weight continue to bear down on him. At his silence, the commander and doctor exclaimed glances.
The doctor tried. "Lad, we need to know. You said you were the leader. You have to talk. So we can fix it." He spoke gently, as if that would help anything. Nothing could fix this pit of numbness and nothingness inside of him. The island had claimed not only his innocence, but his soul. It had ripped it from his body.
When Ralph remained silent, Mr. George lost his temper. He exclaimed, "Bloody hell, boy! For the love of God, tell us something!"
He finally glanced up at the two, his face showing absolutely no emotion. His eyes seemed darker in a way, more haunted. "My name isn't boy," he told them, a hint of bitter venom underneath his words. "It's Ralph." Could he even be considered a boy anymore?
"Thank you, Ralph," Mr. George said, calming himself down considerably. Ralph watched as he finally took a seat across from him, the doctor now moving to another chair a bit away from them, in order to give them some space. The man cleared his throat, "What did you mean yesterday? When you told me that two died…?" Ralph doubted that Mr. George would even believe him.
It took him a few moments to respond. He feared the response of this man, and what he would think of him when he learned what had happened. "Actually…" he began, "I think there's three, sir." His throat was in danger of closing up, and he was in danger of sobbing again. "… One of them, I don't really know. He ran off, a littlun, and he never came back." Ralph spoke a little quieter, "A fire went out of control." He might have met the heat of a fire, embracing a fate that Ralph narrowly avoided. "And the other two…" Boulder falling, bloodlust, absolute madness, the sound of a crunch. His voice broke, "We killed them."
"My God…" Mr. George exclaimed, rubbing a hand through his hand in distress. He looked at Ralph cautiously, "Boy… Excuse me. Ralph. Are you sure you…er… saw things correctly? Was it an accident?"
He trembled, his shoulders shaking as the tears started to come again. "I see things too correctly now." Ralph had to look down again as he recounted the next part. He could not bear to see the commander's expression. "J-Jack Merridew. He's the one with the red hair." He was the one that could openly display what resided inside of every human being on this earth. But Ralph had no idea of how to explain this to Mr. George. "He liked to h-hunt. And we had to have food. He and other boys had to hunt animals for food."
"That's perfectly natural," the commander responded.
"But one night, it w-wasn't an animal we hunted," Ralph whispered. The doctor hurriedly wrote down every word he said. "We hunted down a boy named S-Simon. We slaughtered him like a p-pig. All of us. Me too. I joined in." It was not as if he struck Simon! He just participated in the dance! It was an accident! But deep in his heart, he knew nothing could be verified. He was guilty, he was guilty!
"Jesus…"
Ralph was going to have another breakdown. His breathing became more labored as he attempted to relay everything he wanted to say onto the men. "Another boy, P-Piggy." It hurt to say his name. "He was my friend. He stayed on my side, and I treated him so awfully." He was just another mean and cruel bully that Piggy had been dealing with for his short life. "And then… Roger. He killed him. For no reason!" Tears were rolling down his cheeks as his entire body shook with his sobs. The numbness was fading. "He pushed a rock down and it hit him. Just like that! Piggy was crushed and gone, and floating down into the sea!" He had not once asked Piggy his real name, not once really thanked him. Not once.
"Ralph! Ralph!" He couldn't hear, he couldn't breathe. Someone was shaking him. He could only hear the roaring in his ears, the sounds of yelling and savage chanting. Ralph could only see red, the laughing of the Lord of Flies. The real Beast?
"Kill the beast! Cut his throat! Spill his blood!"
"Kill the beast! Cut his throat! Spill his blood!"
Humanity.
Ralph felt himself falling, the noises spinning around in his head, blending together. Everything went dark.