Knock! Knock! Knock!

I jump up startled by the loud sound. I look down and I'm covered bandages and wraps on my arms. There's a blanket covering my legs and I pull it off only to see more bandages. Behind me is a pillow. A bed? Where am I? The door from which the knocking sound came from suddenly opens. A middle aged looking man stood there in a navy uniform. He held some clothes in one hand while his other hand lay stiffly at his side.

"You're Ralph, yes?" he asks gruffly. A strange sense of security washes over me from hearing such a mature voice. I think of my father. My family. My home. I remember the island and everything that happened. Piggy, the fire, the navy officer who's feet I fell at. Before I know it, I'm crying again. I feel the warmth of each tear drop on to my rough hands. The officer standing at the door makes his way over and sits next to me.

"Now now son, it's alright now. Everything will be alright." His hand awkwardly rubs my back in his attempt to comfort me.

"Listen here; I've brought you some clothes. Now I know they'll be too big but they'll be better than nothing." he says placing the clothes on my lap. "You're friends are all up and are eating in the dining hall, you should dress and go eat." After one more pat on the back, he gets up and leaves. Friends. I don't have any friends there. If it weren't for the constant rumble in my stomach at the mention of food I would have stayed right where I was. I got dressed wincing at the pain and soreness of my wounds. I got into the hall and immediately followed the scent of delicious food that led to a larger room.

The officer was right. Everyone was there. And every single one of them turned and stared at me as I stood at the entrance way. For a split second I consider turning around but my stomach once again roars loudly reminding me why I was here. I quickly take a seat between some littluns. There is so much food. There are fruits, and vegetables, and chicken, and bread. My mouth waters and I can't wait. I begin stuffing my mouth with whatever my hands reached first. I realize I must be chewing obnoxiously loud, but I couldn't care less. I look up and see officers standing far back against the walls. I guess they wanted to give us privacy but also needed to keep an eye on us. I look around the table and everyone is eating quietly and avoiding eye contact with one another. My gaze met Samneric's but they immediately bowed their head in shame simultaneously. Then I see Jack. He sat there away from the food and as far from everyone as the table would allow. The closest person to Jack was Roger who simply sat across from him and ate his food as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Jack no longer looks like the hunter and leader he formally claimed to be. He looks frail and scared. Nothing about him now made me feel fear. That fear I once had is now replaced with pity. Only now do I realize Jack is no different from anyone else on the island. The pity is quickly matched with anger. I get up from my seat and stomp over to Jack carrying an apple and a roll. How dare he think that depriving himself from food and letting himself suffer would fix anything! I slammed the food down in front of him and he looks up at me with red puffy eyes. He looked like he wanted to say something but then we heard Roger snarl. He stared at me intensely.

"Go back to your side Ralph, we don't need you." Side?! What?! My face heats up and I feel anger rise inside of me like hot molten lava.

"What side Roger?! We aren't on that godforsaken island anymore! There are no more sides! No more tribes! No one is leader anymore! We're all going home now and that's that!"

I take a deep breath, the anger still bubbling inside of me. Roger got up from his chair and inches closer to me. His expression was eerily calm and almost reminds me of his face when he found me hiding under the mat of creepers, and suddenly I feel terrified. Two officers quickly make their way over and stand in between us.

"Now you two break it up." One said.

The other led Roger away and out of the room. I let go of a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. The whole room was silent and everyone was still staring at me. Everyone except Jack, who was sobbing in his seat in front of the untouched food. Are we ever going to be able to move passed this?

6 MONTHS LATER

I sat in front of the short and stocky man who at one point told me that I could call him "Mr. Boarson". I never called him anything other than "Sir". He's been my therapist for about five months now. He seemed really nice but after a while I grew annoyed with the same questions and assignments over and over again. Once a week for five months didn't seem like too much, but each session just seemed to grow longer tediously dragging on. It was always revolving around him asking a bunch of subtle questions trying to find the real story about what happened on the island. I don't know why, but I just couldn't bring myself to answer him truthfully or even at all. I knew he also spoke to the other boys and I often wonder what their responses to him were. He is currently speaking to me but I had learned to tune him out a while ago. He begins repeating my name and my attention quickly turns to him.

"Ralph?" he asks curiously.

"Yes sir?" I reply hoping he doesn't try asking me that had anything to do to what he was saying. I was no longer certain if he was concerned thinking I was in same "bad place" or annoyed knowing full well that I had been ignoring him. He sighs tiredly before speaking again.

"Ralph we need to discuss your recent behavior, you caused quite an uproar and frightened a few people." I immediately know what he was referring to. Just this past weekend my mother and I attended a gathering held by a family friend. It was a barbeque and so there were adults and children my age and younger lounging about the backyard. Most adults stared at me as if I were some wild animal and they were wondering why I was let out of my cage. They of course wore their fake smiles as my mother dragged me along to meet everyone. We had exchanged our empty greetings with more than half of the families there when the large grill caught my eye. No one was guarding it at the moment. I stared at it watching flames as they moved delicately as if they were dancing and for a short moment it seems as if it could never cause any harm. But then I remembered just how much trouble a fire could cause. Something within me just snapped and me legs were moving before I could even register. I kicked the grill over and loads of charcoal toppled out. The food left to grill were scattered about. I remember it being extremely silent, not even the sound of birds chirping could be heard. I looked around at everyone's horrified expressions.

"It was nothing sir, it's simply my fear of fire. I overreacted and it was an accident, nothing more. Pyrophobia is a rational fear. It won't happen again." I say trying my best to sound convincing. He looks at me then down at his desk rustling some papers.

"Listen Ralph, next time we'll be with the other boys and have one large session all together, ok?" he said not bothering to look up. The other boys? No I had planned on living the rest of my life without having to see them again there's no way I can do that. Before I have the chance to verbalize my distress he is already ushering me out the room along with himself.

As the week passes by I can't stop thinking about the group meeting. The day has finally arrived and I am nervous and shaking like a leaf. I enter into the room and all the boys there looked as nervous as I felt. Everyone was already here sitting and waiting in silence. As soon as I shut the door Mr. Boarson turns his attention to me.

"Ah wonderful, were all here! Just take a seat Ralph and we'll begin." He said rising from his desk with a few papers in his hands. I take a seat among some littluns. I realize the seats were set in semicircular rows. Mr. Boarson stood at the center and looked around at us all.

"Well I'm sure you all have an idea why you've been gathered together like this. We need to discuss the events that took place on that island. Surprisingly none of you went into detail about anything so I decided this was the next best thing to get answers." He paused, looking around at everyone's faces before continuing. "Anyone want to begin?"

All of a sudden there is a muffled sob coming from one of the farther corners. Jack stood up and the cries became clearer.

"It's my fault… all my fault that Simon… And… And Piggy… They're dead and it's my entire fault I'm so sorry it's all my fault!" He broke down again but still stood in that same spot. No one moved. We all just watched as Jack exposed his feeling for the whole room to see. Others were crying in their seats. I can't stand this. I get up from my seat and head straight to Jack and put one hand on his shoulder.

"Jack, listen carefully. This isn't entirely your fault or anyone's so don't try and shoulder all the pain. We all messed up. That island made us become something that we aren't. No one is to blame. We've just got to learn to keep what happened in the past and move on because if we don't, we'll only ever be stuck on that island." I gave his shoulder a light squeeze then turned to face everyone. "We have to move on guys. There's nothing we can do to change what happened, but we do control our future now and we just have to put this past us and live the happy lives we dreamt of when we were stuck in that hellhole." I turned to face Mr. Boarson. "Sir, I think we can do this." I smiled while tears rolled down my face.

Mr. Boarson wiped his fogged up glasses and put them back on his face.

"I agree Ralph, why don't we begin?" I wipe my face and begin telling the story.

"After the crash…"