This has been a homework assignment (should my teacher find this and blaim me for copying my homework from the internet, please look at the comments below.)
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, I just used my own brain to write something with somebody's else's.
They had been rescued. Ralph still couldn't believe it, he was sitting on a cruiser next to an adult, not only an adult, but a soldier in a uniform.
In his hand was a handkerchief (another thing he could barely believe) and he still spilt another few tears every few minutes. He tried to pull himself together. He wasn't a littlun.
Those were sitting in the corner of the little room they had, some chatting happily, some others crying, others, like Percival, simply sleeping. They had gone through a lot for their age and for a moment Ralph wondered if they could take the strain on their psyche or if they would be some kind of lunatics if they grew up.
Ralph shifted his gaze over to the biguns. Some of them, like Samneric, were sitting next to each other closely. Wounds, scratches and bruises all over their exposed skin showed, where exactly Rodgers sadistic nature had enfolded. The torturer sat a few feet next to Jack, staring at his feet and every now and then biting his lip. Ralph would've liked to know what he was thinking about – or if he regretted what he had done.
Jack on the other hand totally looked as if he could die from shame. Ralph knew what was on his mind. Not only had he been right about the signal fire – well, to be honest it had been Piggy's idea – but also had he taken back all authority in front of an adult.
Piggy... Ralph sighed as he felt that tears were again pricking in the corners of his eyes. He blinked and hastily wiped them away.
None of the biguns were talking. Too horrible had these last days been, they knew what they had done, even though none of the adults would ever know about it. Ralph and all the others knew exactly that they would never speak about those things.
Simon's death, Piggy's death, the beast.
The beast, Ralph now realised, had, in fact, been real. Still, hunting it down was impossible. It was in everybody's head, in their hearts, in their souls. Human beings weren't civilized, no, they were hypocrites. As soon as there was no society to judge them they would turn back to the animals they had been before anybody knew what the word 'civilisation' even meant.
They had gone to the island, lost two or more of them and after all they managed to bring the beast with them. He glanced at the soldier next to him. Was he a beast, too?
No, he decided. It can't be. We were little kids and we behaved like little kids. Adults would never do that. British people would hold on to their rules, they wouldn't let the fire go out, paint their faces and turn into savages.
Some part of him knew it wasn't true but he held on to that idea with all of his might – it was the only thing he could do to not lose his believe in society and also his mind. He pulled his knees up to his chest, started to rock back and forth gently and muttered over and over again. "I'll be alright. We'll all be alright. We're safe. I'll be alright..."
Dear Miss M., no, I didn't copy this from the internet. I'm the one who put it here in the first place.
Greatings, M. :)