Dedication: This one goes out to all my friends who had Mr. B as opposed to Mrs. Carrie. You were the lucky ones, and I hate you all. (Just Kidding, I love you guys.)

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Flies, and God knows I did not own Mrs. Carrie. I do not own my friends and class mates, nor are they my puppets to control on my own free will. —Dance Puppets, Dance…—

Okay, so one small change in the story, Marie in the first chapter is now Meghan.

A Special Thanks to my reviewers, all three of ya.

sarah hopeAs did I Sarah, as did I. – goes of crying after reliving horrible memories-

wickedsugarrushYou laugh now, just wait until the later chapters, I'm glad you're enjoying it though.

Missus Kelain: Shhhhh, don't let HER know. She'll track me down. She'll come back from wherever she is teaching now, and put me in the "Dog House". Hehe, just kidding, she has no power over me now…-shifts eyes, waiting for her to appear- OH NO! THERE SHE IS!!!! —blood curdling scream— Hehe just kidding.

And another thanks to my other 58 of 61 hits on this story —is in love with stats—

Random Fact: I chose to call my teacher Mrs. Carrie after the Stephen King character. She had telekinetic powers and killed everyone at her prom. After you read this story, go out and read it…but read this first.


The Crash

I woke up on the beach with a mouth full of sand, and stared at my surroundings, "Where in the name of all that is holy are we?" I whispered under my breath, absent mindedly rubbing my Saint Christopher's metal, praying that my favorite saint had not let me down for the first time in all my years of traveling. "Hello! You guys there!" I shouted to know one in particular. A bunch of my classmates began to appear from behind plants and trees, most of them had been recovered a while ago. They had an odd look on their face, like aside from the fact that we were stranded in the middle of nowhere, something really bad was about to happen. I found my friend Rachael and asked what happened, aside from the fact that the plane had crashed.

"We don't know exactly what happened to the plane but there is more bad news…"

"What could be worse then a plane crash and being stranded on an island in the middle of nowhere!"

"Wellllll…"

"Who exactly died?"

"It's not who died, it's who managed to survive."

"Rachal?"

"It's Mrs. Carrie…"

"What about her?"

At that moment her high pitched scream rose up from behind a group of trees.

"Oh no."

My world turned black.

I woke about an hour later. At this point Carrie had taken over completely. She had sent three of the honors kids out to see if they could find any more survivors, she said she didn't trust the regulars to do the job correctly. I got up a gravitated to a group of my classmates just as the three kids (Jared, Allison and David) got back from their search, along with some survivors who did not recognized. Now, Mrs. Carrie stood up on a rock and got our attention with some random conch shell that she must have found on the beach. God, that's goanna get annoying really quickly.

"Okay everyone!" She stood upon her rock in a stance similar to the opening scene in the one George Patton had in the opening scene of the movie "Patton". "First things first I want you all separated. I want the Honors kids to the right and the Regulars to the left. NOW!"

We did as we were told, although a few of the regulars were leery about doing so. Her dislike—or hatred—for them was not unknown to the poor souls.

"Next, I want shelters built and food found. Now, who can I trust to build the shelters?" A few of the more mathematically inclined people raised their hands. "Food patrol?" Here, there was a division of the kids who like to hunt, that went in search of meat products, and people like my friend Kelly who happens to be of the vegetarian persuasion who went to search of anything BUT meat. "Now I want fires built. Will all the pyros please bring out their lighters; I know there are at least a couple of you out there." As commanded not only the pyros, but the potheads brought out their lighters and went in search of some wood. Everyone else went is search vainly for one spot on this whole dratted island that had cell phone service.

This must be the seventh circle of hell. God help us all.


Cookies and other sugary delights to all of you who review! —puppy dog eyes—