Disclaimer: I don't own anything still. I want to thank everyone who've left comments, they mean the world to me, and I'd also like to thank some people from school who were reading this secretly, behind my back. XD Manda, firstly, cause I like it when she reads my stories. And John, secondly, who's pretty much my own personal Roger. So keep commenting.
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Jack felt older. When they all first got to the island, Jack had been thirteen. He was only a few months older than Ralph. He knew, (from talking to Ralph when they first crashed on the island) that Ralph's birthday would have been in about a month. With the responsibility of leadership, Ralph had forgotten. Birthdays were never important on the island. But Jack wouldn't forget his.
Jack would guess they'd been on the island for about half a year. Surely that would be enough time for him to turn fourteen. Besides, he was always making the decisions for the boys on the island. That was hard work. He deserved to have another year added on. So he decided to throw himself a birthday party.
He walked outside and was surprised to see most of the boys sitting out there, waiting for him. Ralph stayed in the cave, but peaked out at the boys, watching.
Jack cleared his throat and many of the boys seemed to cower from the sound, as they stared up at their leader, "We're having a party tonight… a party in my honor."
Jack paused, waiting for something when Maurice called out. "What a great idea! The Chief deserves a party!"
Jack grinned as all the boys erupted into applause and cheer. He held up his hand for silence. "I declare this, the day of my fourteenth year, an island holiday."
Again, the boys applauded. Ralph grinned. Jack definitely had a way with the people. "So." Jack said, looking at no one boy, but all the boys at once. "So we're going out hunting, in one hour. Everyone get your paint on!"
The hunters ran off to get their clay as Jack went back inside. Ralph backed away so that Jack wouldn't trip. "Why are you looking at me like that?" Jack asked.
Ralph just noticed he'd been grinning. "No reason."
"Tell me."
"It's nothing, Jack."
"As your chief, I command you to tell me." Jack was grinning, but Ralph could tell by his eyes that he wasn't going to hurt him if he refused, but Ralph grinned.
"You have a way with words."
Jack frowned and sat, pulling three coconuts over to him. "What do you mean?"
Ralph sat across from him, and looked into Jack's private stash of war paint. "They listen to you. They like you. They never liked me."
Jack laughed as he dipped his hand into the white paint. "That's just 'cause you talk too much… and you had too many rules." Jack reached out his hand and put some of the clay on Ralph's cheek, playfully, laughing.
Ralph laughed back. "Do you want help with that?"
"You know how I put it on, right?"
"I couldn't forget that mask. It haunts my dreams." Ralph laughed, but it was true. How many nights, he wondered. How many nights had he woken up in a cold sweat from a dream of that mask staring down at him, stabbing him, cutting him to tiny bits and throwing them into the ocean to be eaten by the sharks?
Jack didn't laugh. He just said, "You can help… if you make it how I like it."
So Ralph dipped his hand into the white. He ran his fingers across Jack's cheek and slowly Jack closed his eyes. Ralph painted a circle, (a little larger than Jack usually makes it) in white. Then he wiped of his hand on his own leg and put it in the red. As he put on the red, he could feel Jack moving under his touch. Something inside of Jack was changing. Suddenly Ralph wondered if volunteering to make Jack a savage was the smartest thing to do.
As he reached for the black, Jack's eyes opened and grabbed Ralph's wrist. "I was thinking, Ralph. You should come with us. It'd be fun, you know… to teach you how to hunt. Then you'd really be accepted. Nobody would even remember the hunt or our deal…"
Ralph shook his head as soon as Jack suggested it. "I'll stay here and keep the fire going for you."
"But Ralph… you could be a great hunter."
"I'm not like them. I won't give in."
Jack frowned, but closed his eyes and he let go of Ralph's wrist so he could finish with the black streak across his face; going from one side to the other, in a diagonal, cutting through both parts.
Jack opened his eyes, and Ralph looked into them expecting a cold, hungry savage. But those eyes were still Jack's. He only looked different. Jack grinned. "Wha'cha lookin' at, Ralphie?"
Ralph grinned back. "Nothing much."
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Roger painted his own face, and unlike Jack's, his changed almost every time. In the beginning, he'd used all three colors, but white didn't appeal to him anymore. He traced his eyes in black, and from the farthest part of his eyes, he drew lines going to his chin. Then he added red to the inside and outside of the line, and put a straight line from his hairline, down his nose, and over his mouth in red too.
Roger always finished first, and he stood up, looking at the other boys. All of the hunter's faces were different, but it didn't matter. When they got into a group, only one thing mattered. The pig must die. Roger grinned. There was something so enjoyable about killing a little piggy. Piggies of all sorts should be dead. He giggled to himself, thinking about the rock and the fat kid.
It wasn't a matter of deserving anything. He didn't care if Piggy deserved death or not. The point was: Piggy was threatening Jack's power. Nobody did that. Everyone knew better now, though it was sad, Roger thought. It saddened him that nobody would step out against Jack. What was he going to do if Jack had no enemies for him to kill?
He looked at Eric, who was still fixing his to get it perfect. Eric was the boy closest to him, and Sam was closest to Eric, though a few feet apart. 'If I just… let it slip.' Roger thought as his grip on his spear got tighter. 'If Eric just falls.'
Eric was still kneeling and nobody was watching Roger anyway. If he did it quick, nobody would know. It would be an accident. A horrible accident… like Simon. Roger felt himself giggle again. Simon, Simon, Simon. He could think all day about him. There wasn't a boy on the island more different than Roger than Simon. But it didn't matter. Simon was dead. He threatened Jack too.
Who else could threaten Jack?
"Do you think Ralph's coming with us?"
'That's who.' Roger thought; he was quickly violent.
The voice didn't matter to Roger, it was Eric that got the hit. He pounced. Eric was surprised, and even through his mask he was blushing.
"R-Roger?"
"What'd you just say?" Roger quickly had him pinned to the ground, helpless, like always. Roger's hands were on Eric's shoulders, knowing Eric wouldn't fight back. "What did you say?"
Roger's eyes were furious. Suddenly Eric cried out, not loudly, but a soft whimper and he shut his eyes. Roger's fingers had broken Eric's skin. The nails were digging into him, ripping, slowly.
"I… I didn't say anything R-Roger." Eric said, trying to hold back from crying as Roger's fingers worked deeper.
"I said, 'I wonder if Ralph's going with is.' Is that what you thought Eric said, Roger?" That was Sam. Roger looked up at the other twin, a beaten free twin. Roger growled and stood up. Eric sighed, but laid there, letting his body relax.
"No. Ralph's not coming. Ralph can't hunt." Roger's voice was full of anger, the boys couldn't figure out why.
"Well I just thought… Jack seems…"
"Jack nothing! Ralph's not going. He wouldn't go if asked." Roger spat and turned and walked away. It wasn't until he sat down, and started to calm himself down that he saw Eric's blood, wet and dripping, on his fingers. He shrugged and started to decorate his own chest with it.
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The hunters were back before the hour was done. Jack had stepped out of the cave to address them, and he pulled Ralph out with him. "Ralph shall stay behind and start the fire, so we can have the feast as soon as we return with the pig."
The hunters cheered; all of them but Roger.
Jack let Ralph slink back to the cave wall. This was like a nightmare for him. All the hunters were freshly painted, with sharp spears. All of the spears looked merciless, but none looked more so than the famous double pointed spire that Roger held so tightly his knuckles were turning white. Ralph shivered and closed his eyes. 'It's just a bad dream.'
"Well? Let's go!" The boys took off swiftly, but very quietly. Ralph was surprised to see he was all alone.
Sam's fire had burnt out. Ralph tried desperately to start a fire from what there was, but it was impossible. There weren't any embers.
Ralph sighed as he looked up. He knew were they kept Piggy's specs, but he didn't want to use them. He wanted Piggy's spirit to be… free. If they constantly used what was Piggy's, he'd never be able to rest quietly.
But if he didn't have a fire going, Jack wouldn't be able to save him from the hunters' fury. Ralph sighed again as he stood up and grabbed Piggy's glasses from inside Jack's cave. He closed his eyes as he started the fire, wishing that Piggy was safe. He wished Piggy was home, with his auntie, talking, because he couldn't do anything else with his ass-mar.
The fire started, and once he put Piggy's specs back, Ralph felt better. Piggy would have liked it if he was help on the island. And he still was.
Ralph sat quietly, by the fire, for a long time, just thinking. The fire had gotten to a nice cooking level, so the hunters would be happy. It was also keeping him warm as the sun began to fade and the dusk air blew in. It was peaceful, sitting here by himself, thinking. He thought about Simon and Piggy, but he quickly moved his thoughts along. He didn't want to be sad right now.
He thought of Jack and how his eyes seemed the same, even in his war paint and how regardless of what Jack looked like, there was something inside Ralph that was glad Jack kept him alive. Something that wanted to thank Jack for keeping him alive. He thought about what Jack had said. Did Ralph want to be Jack's plaything?
Ralph blushed softly, but smiled. "It wouldn't be so bad."
Suddenly a cry knocked him back into reality. The cry sounded like it came from halfway across the island, but it was carried lightly over the air, like a song. He couldn't pick out anyone's voice but Jack's. Jack's soared above the rest. They'd caught the pig.
Ralph smiled and closed his eyes. They all sounded so happy, the hunters. They had something to celebrate. It was their chief's "birthday." It was Jack's fourteenth year. And that made Ralph thirteen. When they landed on the island, Ralph wished they'd get rescued by his birthday. His birthday was one month, one week and three days from the day they crashed.
Jack's birthday was a few months after Ralph's. So if it was Jack's birthday already, Ralph was thirteen. He'd missed his own birthday, and never got a party.
He heard the hunters, extra loud, crashing through the forest. He heard something else too, something he couldn't quite make out. It would stop, then start, then stop again, this noise. There was something different about this kill.
But still the sight shocked him.
The pig wasn't dead yet! It had a vine around its neck, tied very tight, so the pig couldn't break free. But boy, was it a big pig. Jack pulled it toward a tree close to the fire. The pig wouldn't move, so Roger stabbed it from behind to get him to run forward. It ran, and squealed, but Jack had control over it. He led it to a tree and tied it up. After a few, frantic minutes of being tied, it seemed to calm down. Accepting his fate.
Jack stepped to the crowd of hunters. Their masks had been faded from sweat and blood. 'Must be some of them got hurt during the hunt,' Ralph thought.
Jack threw up his arms and yelled. The hunters mocked him, all crying and cheering in celebration.
Jack kept his arms up for silence. "It is my fourteenth year and this pig is for my celebration."
Another loud cheer erupted from the crowd.
"Is there anything else to be given to me?"
It wasn't a spoken command, to get something for Jack, but the hunters knew it must be done. No one spoke at first, and Roger looked sick to his stomach. Finally, Maurice crawled forward on his hands and knees, kneeling before Jack.
"Oh, Great Chief." Maurice had a way with speaking to Jack. "We know that the cave gets cold at night, and a Chief such as you should never sleep uncomfortably. A Chief of your magnitude should have a castle! The hunters would wish to build you a better place to sleep, for your fourteenth year."
He bowed down, being overdramatic, in Ralph's opinion, and the hunters held their breath. If Jack didn't like this idea, who knows what he'd do.
Luckily, Jack loved the idea. "Yes, yes. That's a wonderful idea. We shall start the plans tomorrow."
There was a relieved cheer from the hunters.
(NA: Okay, I know it's a weird spot to end it, but I'll try to update fast. Though it might be hard, as I'm getting braces tomorrow, I'll try. So thank you again, and review, please! This means you: Manda and John.)