Joy to the world! I made a new chapter! A nice, long, dramatic chapter in which you make many shocking (and some less than shocking) discoveries about a bunch of the main characters. I'm a little disappointed that I only got one review last chapter, but hopefully all you lovely folks will enjoy this so thoroughly that you'll review a million bajillion times. Probably not, but hey, a girl can hope. Now on with the show!

Out of caution and fear, I continue to watch Roger out of the corner of my eye. I feel much safer knowing he's not going to jump from the woods out of nowhere and decapitate Percival or cook Piggy over a bonfire or something. I notice a few things, some I like better than others. First of all, he has a strange loyalty to Jack. Gay maybe? Eh, maybe not, but I won't rule it out just yet. Second, Jack seems to be just as weary of Roger as I am, which could be helpful in the long run. The last is easily the worst. You see, the hunters have recently decided to go shirtless. And with his dark hair, dark eyes, and over all awesome muscles, Roger would be really hot if he wasn't so damn creepy. Stupid hawt creepy Roger.

The only time I don't have to spend on the look out for him is when the hunters are all out, you know, hunting. He's the best of teh hunters, so he never, ever ditches. Problem is, it's also the only time when Roger can pop out of the woods and scare me. So as I watch the littluns playing in the water, making sure they don't swim out too far, I keep my eyes and ears open for any sign that the hunters are returning. For a while, none comes. Which is good for more than one reason. Piggy and Simon are both on fire watch, so I'm watching the littluns alone. Not at all a secure feeling. I don't know what I'd do if Roger came by and was in a nastier mood than usual. What if he tried to hurt one of the little boys? On a good day the most I can lift is sixty pounds, I can't take on a big lug of insane muscular-tude! Great, now I've freaked myself out! Every little noise makes me jump ten feet in teh air. To calm myself down, I go to the water and try to scrub the mud off my beloved Converse, rubbing the worn, once emerald green cloth fondly.

A few minutes later, teh sound of whoops and hollers drowning out the shrieks and giggles of the littluns tells me IT and all of it's friends have returned for a lunch break. Oh goody. Our conquering heroes, our knights in shining armor. NOW I feel safe. A few minutes ago, I was so hungry that the thought of chewing sand was really tempting, but somehow, I just mysteriously lost my appetite. After walking the littluns back to camp, I hurry back to the beach. As I walk away, I can feel two pairs of eyes burning holes in the back of my head- Simon's concerned green ones, and Roger's perpetually angry yet amused brown ones- but I don't look back. Nope. I just keep walking until I reach the spot where the littluns had been playing moments before. I realize it'll be a while before the littluns come back and I try to find ways to occupy myself: skipping stones over the water, drawing in the sand, building sand castles, doing anything to keep myself busy while I'm waiting. The littluns return shortly after I've drawn three roses, two rainbows and a picture of Simon and Piggy, and built four 3D models of the island. Of course, the littluns stampede right through my masterpieces without thinking, but I don't mind. They're far too adorable to be mad at, and it's nice to have company again. I move back to sit in the shade of teh palm trees in a place where I can still keep an eye on the little boys. For the first time in days, I'm actually kind of relaxed. I yawn, stretch, and lean back against the fat trunk of a tree. It's actually peaceful for once, until a rough hand clamps over my mouth while another grabs my shoulder and drags me into the woods. When they release me, I jump practically five feet in the air and shriek like a frightened mouse. Dark eyes glare down at me.

"Shut the hell up Shitbrains." Roger demands harshly. I feel my blood run cold, my heart thudding in my chest, and a scream building in my lungs. but I manage to suppress it. I'm to scared to move, let alone run.

"R-R-Roger? Aren't you s-s-supposed to be h-hunting?" I ask, trembling. He just glares like that's the stupidest question he's ever heard.

"It's a lunch break dumbass, ever heard of it?" I mentally kick myself for annoying a kid who could kill me with his pinkie finger if he wanted to. "Come with me." He says. I gulp and try to figure out how to get away.

"B-b-but I'm supposed to be watching the l-l-littluns. W-w-what if they g-g-got hurt?" I excuse weakly. He raises an eyebrow.

"Do you honestly think I give a damn if one of the surplus brats drowns?" Roger asks boredly. I shake my head. "That's what I thought. Come on." Roger grabs my wrist and pulls me along behind him. We walk for about five minutes in absolute silence. I'm about to ask where we're going, when suddenly he slams me backwards into a tree, both of my wrists in his hands so I can't fight him.

"You told someone about the little boy didn't you?" He yells angrily in my face.

"W-w-w-what? No I-" Roger cuts me off.

"Don't lie to me. I know you did."

"But I didn't!" I insist. He scowls.

"All the hunters have been acting jumpy around me, even Jack! How do you explain that?" He demands. I wince.

"Well, it could be because you shoved a spear so far up a pig's ass that it came out the other end, and then laughed. But that's just a guess." He glares and his grip on my wrists tightens.

"Don't you get sarcastic!" I begin to cry a little bit. "And don't cry you little baby."

"I swear, I didn't tell anyone! You've got to believe me." I try to convince him. He still looks skeptical.

"I'll believe you this time. But if I find out you're lying to me-" He pantamimes slitting my throat. Then he moves so that his face is mere canitmeters away, and his breath is hot on my face. I prepare for another death threat, but instead I'm faced with a fate far worse than death. He presses his lips to mine. Aw, hells no! I shove Roger off and come this close to slapping him. Okay, so I did slap him. But he totally deserved it! He just smirks at me, looking amused.

"Don't touch me you creep!" I shriek, finally sprouting a backbone. He chuckles.

"What are you gonna do about it?" Roger asks, his voice low. He kisses me again. I try to shove him off again, but he's way too much stronger than me. His fingers dig into one of my patches of sunburned skin, causing me to yelp in pain. Problem is, his mouth is still on mine and... well, you get the picture. It's gross. Like, really, really gross. Somehow, in all the times I've thought about what my first kiss would be like, I never imagined it like this. I can't see why not. A creepy ass murderer rape-kissing me, what more could a girl possibly want. Note the sarcasm.

I try to think of ways to escape. Only one comes to mind. I swing out my knee, aiming for the nuts but hitting the gut. Still effective though, Roger stumbles backwards, clutching his stomach. I try to make a run for it. I've always been a good runner. If I wasn't, I never could've made it three years on both the cross country and track teams. But apparently, I've got nothing on a practiced hunter who's healthier, stronger, in better shape, and is better fed than me. He catches up to me in seconds, yanks me back by my shoulder and pins me to another tree.

"Don't run away from me you little bitch." I pull back my hand and slap him once, twice, three times, four times and going on a fifth when he grabs both my wrists in one of his strong hands. Then Roger pulls out a long silver knife and waves it in the air in front of my face. "Think I'm afraid to use this? Prove me wrong. Slap me again, I dare you." He challenges me. He releases one of my hands, waitimg for me to hit him. For obvious reasons, I don't. He chuckles darkly. "That's a good girl." His face inches towards mine, and I prepare to knee him in the crotch and make a break for it. But someone beats me to the punch line. Roger falls to his knees, doubled over and groaning, his hands gaurding the place where the sun don't shine. He moans in pain. Behind him, a little boy jumps up and down, pumping his fists in the air.

"Percival FOR THE WIN!" Percival exclaims, clearly proud of his excellent crotch kicking. I laugh, partially out of relief.

"Nice kicking Percy. WHy don't we head back to the beach now?" He nods vigorously, taking my hand and leading me back to where the others are playing. "Don't worry. The mean boy won't never, ever hurts ya." He assures me. I give him a curious look.

"How do you know that?" I ask. Out of nowhere, he hugs me, partially burying his face in my nearly nonexistent stomach.

"Cuz I'll always protect you." Okay, that is the sweetest thing I've ever heard. I kneel down and hug him back, kissing the top of his head. My little hero. After a few seconds, he runs off to play with his friends. As I walk back to my spot on the beach, one question gnaws at the back of my mind: is it weird that I couldn't help but think of Simon when Roger kissed me?

Woah woah WOAH! Hold the phone! Roger likes Erin? Erin likes Simon! Simon is completely oblivious to everything? Aye, aye, aye! Is that even how you write that phrase? Whatever, I don't really care, I don't need to know that to pass Spanish. This is so incredibly dramatic! What ever shall our beloved and not-so beloved main characters do now that this information has been revealed? And is Percival the only one on the island smart enough to realize that Roger= bad news? You'd think more people would notice him yelling and threatening Erin in the woods. Or that they'd at least hear Erin's chihauhau-like scream.

Erin: I swear, I'm working with complete imbesols!
Simon: Hey? What about me.
Erin: Well, you're kinda cookoo for CoCo Puffs, but that can be overlooked.
Simon: Yay! Wait, what?
Erin: Don't worry your pretty, batty little head.
Simon: Somehow, I feel like she's insulting me...

Hammsters: Yea yea yea, you guys can work on Simon's breakthrough later. People, I need you to review! I have complete faith in you, don't make me look as stupid as pretty, batty little Simon!

Simon: Now I feel like you're insulting me too...

Hammsters: Pay no mind to him. And since I feel like no one's reading my author's notes (and because it'll be kinda funny) I would like for everyone who reviews to say 'OH FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS CHEESY TACOS!" In their review. C'mon people. You know you wanna say it. SO review, respond to my poll, and check out two of my other stories, Routines and To Be Extraordinary. Peace!