A/N: This is my first and so far only work of fanfiction. I wrote it for English class... we were supposed to writea scene about a dream one of the boys would have had after they returned to England. Here is my interpretation.

Dreams

By TigHan

Pounding. It always started with the pounding. The pounding sounds of a jungle, although this wasn't a jungle he was in – oh no, this wasn't a jungle at all. This was an island, but the pounding was always in the jungle. He would follow it, follow the pounding. Follow it through the trees that were twisted and sneering at him as he ran. Follow it down a ravine, and through paths of mud and dirt splashing on his thighs. There were never any animals. No. It was always silent. Silent, except for the pounding. The pounding inside of his head, in the jungle, that was leading him, pushing him. It would always take him to the same place. Darkness. Reality. The island.

But this time the dream was different. He saw more after he arrived on the island, he saw what the pounding was. The pounding inside of his head. What was making him run, run so fast, away from something yet towards something else? Towards the pounding, away from... what was he running from? Why was he running so fast? He tried to turn, tried to get his legs to stop moving. That was when he knew what it was, what he was running from. The smell hit him almost immediately and he started to cough, but he kept running. The smoke of the fire was too fast, it was gaining on him. He opened his mouth to scream, but nothing came out. Nothing ever did. Only the fire would move closer behind him. He was running away from the fire, towards the pounding.

Now he knew what he was running from. Fire. He was running from fire. The worst was yet to come, he knew. The dream still wasn't over. No. He was running from the fire, running, when he came to the scar. The scar, which he had hoped never to see again. But he saw it. Always. Every night, when he went to sleep, he saw it. The scar. And now, he saw the scar, he was in the scar, and as he turned around his eyes grew wide, and the trees around him burst into flame. He tried to make his legs move, as they had only moments before, but they were still. He stood in open terror, frozen by the movements of the fire in front of him.

The fire continued to engulf the area around him, burning the sand in its path. Burnt sand, burnt trees, burnt scar. The smell of smoke filling his nostrils. The heat surrounding his body, swallowing him, choking him, he was gasping for breath, run, his body told him, run. There is nowhere to run, his mind told him, but his body disobeyed. Run, it told him, run. So he ran, through a break in the fire so small it would have been missed if he weren't so desperate. Maybe it wasn't even an opening, he just ran through a wall of flame. But the fire still followed him, towered above him, taunted him. Slowly, painfully, it moved in on him, tortured him. He backed away, but the fire was all around him. Nowhere to go. He screamed, and fell...off his bed. The dream was over, for another night.

A/N: This is my first work of fanfiction, written in English class based on an assignment we had to do for Lord of the Flies. By the way, never read that book. It's horrible :). Please read and review some of my stuff on fictionpress. I publish most of my work – original fiction – there.