A/N; Okay, the idea here was to create a monologue based on Lord of the Flies (which I do not own) by William Golding, which also had to include stage directions.


*Ralph is lying in bed, trying to sleep. He sits up and flips his pillow over before lying back down. He is in a room in the ship that rescued the boys from the island*

It's really difficult trying to sleep on a bed, after spending so long in the shelters. I can barely remember how to read, and food all tastes too salty now. All I want to eat is fruit and pig. *Sits up* We've all had our hair cut since we got on the ship, and, while it's nice to see clearly, my head feels too bare. I keep reaching up to brush it out of my eyes. *Brushes at forehead*

I really can't recognise anyone any more. They've turned back into the schoolboys they were before they became hunters and savages. *Counts on fingers* I've seen Maurice, and Roger, and a few of the littluns. Most of the time I talk to Samneric. We try to ignore what happened on the island, so instead we talk about going home, and maybe what the weather's like.

*Pause*Jack's been about, as well. He seems bitter about loosing his control over the rest of the boys, and I've seen him yelling at the littluns, trying to get them to follow orders. They ignore him now, of course. They have the protection of the crew, now. Jack can't make them do anything.

Most of his choir ignore him, I think they're scared of what he'll do if he gets that power back, and they regret following him now that they're back in civilisation. It's a bit late, though. *looks around the room sadly*

It must be really frustrating for Jack to have all that control taken away from him, and to now have to follow adults again. I don't think he wanted to go home from the island, I mean, why would he? He was in charge, he could do as he pleased, and he had all the respect he'd ever need. *Pause* I also think he's slowly realizing what he did.

*Gets up and walks over to the window and looks outside* He keeps talking to me, as if he wants to apologize, but doesn't know how too. He talks about small, unimportant things, like where we think our parents might be, or about our homes and where we lived before the war. I snapped at him one time, telling him to stop acting like nothing's happened, or like he hadn't tried to kill me.

He sort of hung his head, and told me he doesn't know what else to do. *shrugs* Apparently I'm the closest thing he has to a friend right now, which I suppose is true. We were getting to be good friends before the whole kill-the-beast problem started.

I don't mind him speaking to me; it's nice to see a normal Jack again. Even so, I don't think I'll ever forget the other side to him, or the rest of the world, for that matter. Humans are a lot crueller and harsher than everyone thinks.

I know I'll never forget Piggy or Simon. I have to remember them; it's only fair. I watch their deaths every day, because I have to remember that I could have saved them, if only I'd listened to what they had to say. *hangs head*

Because Simon didn't have to die, and neither did Piggy. They both died horrible, terrible deaths. Simon just tried to make us to see past the beasties and the hunting, and Piggy just wanted to be accepted, and tried to show us we were all a bunch of kids. But it didn't matter. None of us listened to either of them, because, in the end, Jack was right; in this world there are people who are meant to obey and follow orders, and those who are meant to do all the talking and commanding. I had the chance to be one of the talkers, and I could've- should've- listened to them. *pause, shakes head sadly* Simon knew there wasn't a beast, and Piggy knew that we were all being silly little children. I- I never even knew Piggy's real name…. *sits on bed slowly and buries head in hands*