Eulogy

SR: Well...this is for an English assignment I had. We were supposed to write a Eulogy from Ralph on Piggy's Death. It was supposed to only be a speech but... *sweatdrop* my muse took over and began adding little commentary while writing it. Then I went back and began joking with a friend about how it is basically a fanfiction after LotF ended so this happened. xD

March 1, 2015

A fair haired boy made his way up to the front, hands loose by this sides. Stepping up in front of everyone, their eyes all on him, he took a deep breath. He was doing this for Piggy, he was doing this for the boy who was there with him and died without a second thought. Clenching his eyes tightly, the opened them and stared out, spotting who he assumed is Piggy's parents, crying and sobbing, white lilies by them on an empty seat.

"Thank you everyone for being here. I am Ralph and this is my thoughts on a dearly departed friend," Ralph smiled awkwardly, almost grimacing. How was he supposed to do this again? He breathed in deeply before continuing.

"Piggy… Dear Lord, I do not even know his real name," Ralph broke off his speech, sighing shakily. Speaking the Lord's name in vain like that, but really, what else was there to say? He didn't even know the boy's real name, calling him by that derogatory nickname. He shook his head and recollected his bearings. "I should not call him that anymore, he never quite liked it." He smiled ruefully, eyes downcast. He didn't want to see those accusing eyes from Piggy's parents for calling their son 'Piggy.' "But I do not know even his true name, so Piggy he shall be called." He looked up, eyes steeled as he resolutely met their eyes. He was the person Piggy saw as a leader and friend, he has a right to be up here and to speak.

"We first met on the beach after we got shot down in a storm of lightning," Ralph ran a hand through his hair, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "It was just us two, trying to figure out what to do. Piggy and I, we found the conch, and its call brought the rest of the boys to the shore. Piggy was the source of ill intentions by the rest of them, he was different."

Ralph paused, trying to think of what else to say. "Piggy wasn't as happy about being stranded on an island and all the freedom the isolation presents, and honestly, neither was I. He was the orderly force that kept us together for some time, until our crazy behaviors got the best of us and well, things began falling apart. And then he died," Ralph shut up, clenching the podium as silence rang out. He panicked, he didn't mean to sound that callous.

"Umm," Ralph started, "Piggy was to me a representation of life outside the island." His eyes were closed, he didn't want to see what people thought of him up here, speaking about someone who he disparaged, ignored, and took advantage of on the island. "He reminded me that there is some hope that we can get out of this mess. And look, we – well I – did. It is regretful that he never got to experience a return to civilization, and with that it is depressing that he left in such a way. I – I do not think there is any way to repay him for what he has given me. He was the stability to life on the false paradise and was my source of sanity many a times. He and Simon…" Ralph broke off, sighing.

"Life then was different. I must admit Piggy did not show me much of his past, or perhaps I was unwilling to listen, so wrapped up in my own thoughts. I recall times when the conch – something that held such hope and value to all of us – did nothing to allow him to speak up. It was through him we were able to create a fire, his glasses diverting the sun's rays to spark a fire. And it was through the theft of them that this all happen. I – well we - would not have been able to ever call attention to our little island and be rescued. But I grieve for him, because we never appreciated all he has done for us when alive until after," Ralph's voice faded off, shaking his head before looking up, catching his reflection in the window, hair a mess and face ashen. The sun glinted off the glass, reminding him of broken shards on the ground. He clenched his hands tightly by his side, nails digging into the skin until they almost broke skin.

"It is like Van Gogh or the other artists from the Renaissance," Ralph didn't know where that came from, but he did remember learning about this in primary school and Piggy was like that, Ralph didn't see his value or appreciate him until after he died. "He did so much for us, kept us organized and all. I delegated most of my duties to him – I was the leader, you see – so I could focus on getting rescued. He kept track – or tried to, it was kind of difficult as there was never exact numbers or systems – of everyone and made sure they were doing their parts." Ralph's hands were shaking, the fact that the crowd was silent and staring at him, blank eyes and solemn expressions unsettling him. "Well, the latter was never fully done, but he tried?" Ralph let his question fade off, voice shaky and nearly stuttering before he stabilized himself.

He tried to explain. "Ah…we never made things easy for him, and I guess the bullying from the others did him no good. He was just, easy, you know? I mean, despite his usefulness, he was kind of the outlier, like me and Simon, but Simon's gone and I was the leader, so people listened to me more times than not until Jack resisted. Nobody really listened to Piggy." Ralph froze. What did he just say? Did he really just admit that-?

"W-wait, not like that, but his ideas weren't well, normal?" Ralph stuttered. "They were too mature, we didn't want to listen because they wanted to have fun. Well, I tried to listen, but it's kind of hard because I had so much to do. And he put himself into danger a lot, trying to be the meditator for fights Jack and I had. We were just kids, we weren't used to being alone or acting for the benefit of a group. We were…selfish, and Piggy wasn't. He looked out for us, made sure we were reminded that our goal was to get rescued and not to have fun." Ralph didn't know what he was coming across as, but he hope it wasn't bad. He really shouldn't be up here, he thought to himself. He barely knew Piggy, and now expected to speak at his wake?

"Piggy, he was just there," Ralph said, deadpan and empty. What else was there to say about the fat boy? "I miss him," Ralph said, not really lying but not saying the truth either. "He was the voice of reasoning for me and without him, I feel like something is missing, or that something might go wrong. He died, and he shouldn't have." Ralph paused, letting his words sink in before he spoke again, trying to convey every mournful emotion he possessed into his following words. "So please, let us remember Piggy as the valiant boy trying to do right, when others didn't want to. I wish he could be with us here today and realize how many people recognize and appreciate his worth," Ralph let his words hang in the air. He began to step down from the stand before he murmured into the bulky microphone, "Thank you." He turned his back on the audience as he left the podium, resuming his seat and trying his best to ignore all the stares on his person. He said his piece, and that was that.

Thoughts? Feelings? Review please! I want to know what you guys think! :D

And I'm probably never going to write for this fandom again unless my muse strikes me. (Is it bad that when reading the story, I was thinking of RalphxJack pairing?)

Anyways.. there's a little button down here that I appreciate if you click.

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-SilverReplay