Ralph

"Fancy seeing you here again, Merridew," I leant against the door frame, arms folded tightly, fighting internally to keep my face a cool, indifferent mask. I wasn't thinking about History class or Maurice or anything in particular anymore. Seeing Jack again had taken care of that, and now I felt nothing but anger. I was nothing like the charade, fake Ralph I put on, though. I was angry and frustrated and terrified and mortified and, and...

Maybe I wasn't as stable as I had assumed.

Still, I thought with a confused frown, what the bloody hell was he doing inside a quaint little secondary school? Granted, it was an institution for troubled kids, but when I thought about how Jack Merridew spent his time, all the images I could conjure up of were dark, damp cells lit with flickering, eerie candles, the smell of damp in the air...

He's thirteen, a distinctly annoying voice argued in the back of my mind. He's still a kid...

Yeah, and I suppose all 'kids' are allowed to murder innocent people, I countered sarcastically, he killed Simon, and he killed Piggy...

Well, so did you, the little voice reminded me. You were there, you took part, remember the flames and the fire and the spears...

"Shut up!" I roared suddenly, making Jack jump. He raised his head to look at me like I was crazy. Maybe I was. Of course I was.

"I didn't say anything,"

I scowled at him, momentarily forgetting my supposed cool demeanor.

"I know. It's nothing."

"Oh."

I waited for him to make a cutting remark, a classic contemptuous Merridew look, and an arrogant toss of his head to remind the world that HE would never talk to himself, that HE was above such childish play. But nothing followed, except him quietly lowering his head and delicately averting his eyes. I blinked, sure that I had missed one of his audacious tics, a sign that Jack Merridew, the real, cold, high and mighty chief himself was seated before me. Nothing. Could it be true? Could anyone like him transform into a new person? I couldn't be sure, and in any case, I wasn't quite ready to forgive him for the deaths of my friends.

"Aren't you ever going to stop hounding me?" I glowered at him fiercely, to which he shot a cautious glance at my icy profile.

"Never," he whispered apprehensively, his sky blue eyes, eyes so bright they hurt to look at, fixed on my own ones.

Great. Now I had an obsessive, blue-eyed 14 year old stalker on my hands.

"Lovely," I let the sarcasm seep into his mind while I worked out some things out inside my head. Planning my next move. I figured that if Jack was so desperate to see me, I could use it to my own advantage. I could use it to weasel the truth out from him.

"So," my voice automatically lowering a little, "What other business except for stalking are you here for?"

Jack cast his brilliant eyes on me again. They were wild and agonised: a look that I recognized all too well from the island. They were the eyes of a mentally unstable tribal chief. Did he want my help? Or was this one more of his manipulative mind games? I was tired of them; tired of them all.

"I wanted to talk; I wanted to...to apologize..."

Suddenly, I felt an overwhelming tiredness, and just at that moment, all I wanted to do was to lie down and fall into a never-ending sleep, without any crazy choir boys who wanted to apologize, without any forgetful twins to bother me, a long sleep sans the nightmares to haunt my every move at night. Wasn't there a fairytale about that, in one of the books my father had given me long ago?

My mind was wondering, and that wasn't what I wanted. I tried, unsteadily, to focus on the tall, youth in front of me, now standing, facing me like an equal. The boy who wanted forgiveness for his irreversible deeds.

I didn't want to listen to him asking for forgiveness. I just wanted Jack to leave and never return, just so I could forget. Amnesia seemed like the perfect solution right now. Would nothing ever become normal, would I ever regain my innocence?

"Leave Jack," I said thickly.

He looked bewildered and, I couldn't help noticing, disappointed.

"But-you were the one who came in-"

"I was sent to-to look after you," I wrinkled my nose at the satirical phrase. Look after the boy who had tried to kill me? How ironic. "Look after the new boy kind of thing..."

Jack opened his mouth, and then clamped it shut again.

"But that was before I knew it was you! You killed my best friend and you think you'll be forgiven by just saying SORRY?" I was shaking now, with a mixture of incomprehensible emotions. "Well, you're wrong, Merridew. Completely wrong. You tried to kill me, remember? I'm the boy you tried to kill," I flashed him a dark parody of a smile, then went on. "Look, here's your chance. Oh, I forgot, you don't do anything without a safe back-up of savages behind you, do you?"

I swept over to where he was standing and shoved him so hard that he sent a fine number of desks and chairs flying. Jack himself remained standing, but seemed severely shaken at my violent outburst. He had no trouble avoiding my gaze now. The thought made me irrationally angrier.

"DO YOU!?" We were now nose to nose, eye to eye. "Leave me bloody alone! You're not wanted and you never will be, you coward, you beast, you-" I glared at him, at loss for words. I fumbled in my mind for the right weapon to destroy him. I had the power to break a person now, and it felt exhilarating.

"Piggy won't forgive you! Simon won't forgive you!"

But even as I yelled the words at him, I knew that they weren't true. Piggy's feelings aside, I knew, just knew deep inside me, that Simon wouldn't have let old grudges stand in the way of understanding each other and, eventually, forgiveness. Why couldn't i think like him, why couldn't I be like Simon? A tornado of self-hate swirled up inside me, and just as suddenly, all the fight in me deflated.

"And I...I.." words failed me again. "I won't..." to my horror, I found that my face was wet. I choked back tears, not being able to speak. Through blurry eyes, I dimly registered Jack's concerned face, absurdly deaf to the harsh realities I had thrown in his face.

"Just...leave," I looked away from him. Shame burnt through me like a fire, like the fire of destruction that inevitably ate up everything. "Please."

I just about held it together until I heard footsteps fading away and the door closing. Then I collapsed into an undignified heap onto the stone ground, crying at the sheer injustice of it all. Of everything. It had backfired on me, as usual. Why wasn't I strong enough to face up to Jack properly, why couldn't I be like Simon, or even Piggy, who never let anything tear him up? Why couldn't...

Simon, I thought desperately, I'm sorry.

I didn't know how hard it would be to move on. Not until today. Now, suddenly, in the form of one red headed boy, I knew what it felt like to be torn up, slashed, and left to die.

I was broken.