ADJUSTING
CHAPTER TWO
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the boys, nor the novel they appear in/
Ralph was the first to enter the room. It was fairly non-descript, uniform wooden bunk beds in precise rows, with sheets and blankets folded into neat piles. The rest of the boys filed in warily after Ralph, looking around nervously. Ralph checked the back of the door, and found his bunk number. He strode over to the bed, and set his satchel down upon it. He plopped down on the stiff, scratchy mattress and lay back, not bothering to take off his shoes, and folded his hands behind his head. The other boys followed suit, each sitting down uncomfortably on the small beds they would be sleeping on until they left the school. Jack walked over to his own bunk, down the row from Ralph's. He hesitated near Ralph's prone figure, but quickly resumed his gait at the stoic look on Ralph's face. A few of the young'uns began hushed conversation, but even that soon faded into pensive silence. They sat in this melancholic, tense silence until the bell rang for supper.
Ralph started at the sound. He had been so immersed in thought that he had tuned out all the sounds from around him. He lay still for a moment longer, then got up and followed the herd of boys to the dining hall. Dinner, they soon learned, was a silent affair. Except for the brief prayer at the start of meal, which caused several boys to guiltily drop their forks and hold off swallowing their food, the hall was mostly quiet. Any conversation was initiated by a teacher, and conversation was rare. A few of the boys looked uncomfortable with this arrangement, but it suited Ralph just fine. When the boys were dismissed from the large table, they went subdued to their room. None were ready to retire for the night, so they broke off into groups, whispering and stifling laughter. All except Ralph, that is. Ralph was in no mood to converse idly with any of his peers. He sneered unconsciously at the thought of mending fences with them. Instead, he turned over onto his side, prepared to simply lie there, until sleep overtook him. He was just drifting off, when a strangled cry awoke him.
"Kill the pig! Cut her throat! Spill her blood!" A young'un of about ten years had worked himself into a feverish excitement that soon dwindled into remorse and regret, and the solemn faces that greeted him. Ralph rose slowly from his bed, and walked over to the boy, who by now was trembling with fear at Ralph's imposing presence. His friends sucked in their breath and held it, waiting to see what their once chief would do. For a moment, Ralph was still, simply looking at the terrified boy in front of him. Then his somber expression twisted suddenly into one of rage, and flew at the boy, snarling with rage. He punched him, knocking him flat onto his back, and straddled his smaller body, wrapping his hands around the boy's neck. He began choking him, blind with rage and tears, sobbing and screaming at the same time.
"Don't—don't you say that again! Ever! D'you hear me!" The boy nodded his head frantically, clawing at Ralph's tightening hands. This shook the boys from their stupor, Samneric rushed to pull Ralph off the boy, who sucked in a great lungful of air greedily. Ralph was still blind with anger and sorrow, his torment obvious. His adrenaline gone, he sank onto his bed, muttering, "I'm chief—we voted…I'm chief…I'm chief…" He lay trembling on his bed, repeating his mantra over and over again, oblivious to the dozens of eyes on him. He closed his eyes, and the talking stopped. The boys let out a collective breath, and returned to their activities, albeit a bit more cautiously. Ralph finally dozed off into a restless sleep, and the rest of the boys followed not long after.
A/N: All reviews are greatly appreciated.
Mark of CTown: Thanks for the words of encouragement! I'll try to update faster next time.
Tiger Dauthi: David Copperfield is one of my favourite books, but the headmaster's character is not based on any pre-existing character. He is simply a strict man.