I do not own these characters. They are property of William Golding

Epilogue: Fifteen Years Later

A red haired man sat with his back against the wall of the jail cell. He sat, clenching and unclenching his fists while beating his head slightly against the wall. He heard a noise come from outside the room his cell was in, and he looked up. Angrily he shot out his fist into the air before throwing his head back against the wall. A man clad in a uniform entered the room followed by a dark man who looked surprised to be there.

"Jack, you have a visitor," the uniformed man said.

The dark man looked at Jack curiously, and Jack looked at him with a mirrored expression. The man in the uniform nodded and left.

"Roger?" Jack asked quietly.

"Yeah. Jack, is it really you?"

"Yeah."

"I can't believe you remembered me after all those years," Roger said in awe.

Jack looked away with a sour expression. "It's been hard to forget anything that happened on that bloody island," Jack said, facing the wall.

"I know," Roger said with a mutual understanding of a deeper matter. "I mean, we've all struggled with violence after what happened. But, none of us ever… I mean, to go and…" Just like when they were on the island, they refused to speak of deaths.

"I know."

"I saw you in the paper. At first I couldn't believe it. But it had to be you. Didn't know anyone with the same description. It had to be you."

"It had to be me," Jack said, still turned to the wall. Suddenly, his fist flew out and he hit the wall in anger. "It had to be me!" He whirled around to face Roger. "It had to be me! I was the only one who could never fully forget what happened! It had to be me!" He hit the wall once again before sitting back down and resting his head upon the wall as before. "It had to be me," he whimpered.

"Hey, look, we've all had problems since then," Roger said.

"But you never…" Jack trailed off, but the silence rang with the unspoken words.

"No." Roger looked at the ground.

"Do you know what happened to the others?" Jack said, looking up at Roger.

"No. That's not really the kind of thing you stay in contact with a person for."

"No, I guess it's not," Jack said before he looked at the wall once more.

Across town, a fair man was reading the newspaper in his home. He reached an article about a man named Jack Merridew being put into jail after pleading guilty for murder. The fair man immediately dropped the paper as if it had bit him. He stood up and slowly backed away from it.

"Calm down Ralph," he said to himself. "Calm down. You don't want to be in a frenzy for the doctor's, do you?" Ralph had backed into the kitchen when he heard a branch hit the window. He jumped and squealed at the sound. "It was just a branch," he said. "Just a branch. They're not here. You'll be fine!" But despite his efforts to block the memories, vivid images swarmed in his mind.

Events from Ralph's stay on the island fifteen years ago danced in his mind as if it were yesterday. He saw the fire, the hunters and heard their chant. He saw himself hunting with them, and he saw himself participate in the murder of Simon. He saw the death of Piggy and running from the hunters. He felt the creepers against his skin, smelled the earth and the fire set to kill him. He heard the footsteps of those who wanted him dead. He felt the fear. He felt great fear. He saw the naval officer rebuking them. He felt the tears on his face as he wept.

When Ralph opened his eyes, he found himself lying on his kitchen floor up against the sink cabinets. He reached up and felt his face. Tears. Tears were streaming from his eyes as they had on that day. Ralph began to weep again out of fear, grief, and mourned the innocence that had been ripped from him much too soon.

Soon enough Ralph found himself in the all too familiar waiting room at the doctor's. He twiddled his thumbs anxiously, unable to shake the feeling that hunters lurked in the walls.

"Ralph," the doctor called, "you can come in now."

Ralph leapt up quickly and rushed to the safety of the office.

"I saw Jack in the paper," Ralph said seated on the couch.

"Really," the doctor said as he seated himself in the chair across from Ralph.

Ralph responded by nodding his head.

"Did it upset you in anyway?" the doctor questioned in a soft voice.

Ralph nodded again. "I had flashbacks and fell down."

"I see," the doctor said. "You have been upset by many things having to deal with your incident. Do you think perhaps going and talking to Jack would bring you some peace?"

Ralph's blue eyes widened in fear. He knew this was the last thing he wanted to do. He also knew it was what he must do.

"Jack, you have a visitor," the uniformed man said for the second time that day.

Jack looked up, not sure who to expect, when he saw a familiar blond man enter the room. The man wore an incredibly bewildered expression upon his face as his gaze darted around the room. His eyes rested upon Jack's after a moment.

"Jack?" he whispered.

Jack nodded. "Ralph?"

Ralph's response was a small squeak, which was the best vocalization he could make under the circumstances.

"You came to see if I'd really done what the paper said I did," Jack stated.

Ralph shook his head.

"No, you already knew it was true."

Ralph nodded.

Jack slammed his fist into the wall, causing Ralph to jump, before saying, "Bloody island."

Ralph nodded again. There was silence before Ralph finally found his voice. "Simon was right," was all he could say.

Jack stared at him, unable to truly understand what he had said. "What?"

"Simon was right," Ralph repeated, his voice growing stronger. "He was right. About the beast, that is. It was inside us all along. It's inside everyone, they just don't know it. But we do. We do because we've seen it."

"Yeah, on that bloody island," Jack said bitterly. "If none of that had ever happened, we'd all be alright. None of this stuff would have happened."

Ralph looked at him sympathetically. "I know."

"I'm sorry you turned into a mental case because of everything we did on that blasted island," Jack said softly.

"I'm sorry you… Well, I'm sorry you're here because of it."

"It's not your fault," Jack corrected.

"Nor was what you apologized for your fault. But it's good to know we regret what happened," Ralph said simply.

Jack looked up at Ralph and gave him a half smile. Ralph returned it with a half smile of his own. They began sharing stories of the fifteen years between their last meeting. They told stories of struggle and how things would never be the same. The air in the room was that of old friends whose last meeting had been one of amity and good will, opposed to the reality of their last meeting which held enmity and bloodlust. As Ralph left, he felt a small sense of peace that had not been felt in a great while. As Jack remained in his cell, unable to leave, he too felt that same small peace.

Author's Note: This was actually a project for my English 10 class. Who knew you could write fanfiction for a grade?