Here's chapter 3! Sorry if it's slightly boring and uneventful.
Thanks to everyone who reviewed!
The way I describe a certain someone in this chapter is how he is in the 1963 movie, hair color atleast. I'm not sure if that's his eye color, I never really looked, but it's how I see him, and since William Golding didn't exactly give us an extremely descriptive profile of said character, he's how he is. Although he does have the same 'joking' personality he has in the book. Sorry if he doesn't exactly live up to your view of him.
I wouldn't mind some constructive criticism either. Anything needs to be improved? I greatly appreciate it!
***
Roger blinked, dumfounded at the discovery of the eyes. Being eyes, they blinked back, a pool of chocolate highlighted with steel blue. Blonde hair fell in front of the eyes, dancing quietly in the wind.
"Roger, you should see your face!," the voice laughed loudly, "You look like a-"
Roger dove through the bushes and covered the loud, smiling mouth.
"Maurice." Roger practically hissed his name. He looked down at the boy below him (for he was sitting on his stomach). He had gotten a haircut, but nothing drastic. His face was clean and devoid of any dirt. He looked almost completely different than the boy he had gotten used to on the island, the dirty, savage boy. Although, Roger had always sensed that Maurice was different from the rest of them. Sure they were all bent on having a good time, but Maurice seemed to enjoy things more than the others. Not so much the hunting or blood, but the games, the swimming, the…socializing. (Roger scowled at the idea) But unlike him or Jack, he wasn't bent on destruction of Ralph's lot. He even had attempted to persuade us to go back and try to get Ralph to join us, to ease the tension between the Jack and Ralph. He liked them. He liked everyone. He always tried to make everyone happy. Why did he join Jack's tribe, Roger believed it was mainly for the playing, it's what Maurice liked to do, he liked Jack's idea, to have fun. Where was Jack?
"Rhawuh." Roger snapped out of his current thought and focused his eyes on the boy below him, his own hand still over the blond boy's mouth. He took his hand off his mouth and got off him.
"Roger, what are you do-" Roger clamped his hand back over Maurice's mouth, for he talked quite loudly.
"Shh, talk quietly."
"Why are-" Roger shot Maurice a venomous glare. He brought his voice down an octave. "Why are you hiding behind the bushes? Why are all these police men here? Why is your mother crying?" Why is she alone? Where-" Maurice stopped in quiet realization, "Where is your dad?"
Roger sat quietly, watching the policeman through the thick of the bushes.
"You didn't." Silence. "You did. Why?"
"He did some things."
"Well what things?"
"Some things."
"Come on, tell me."
Roger sat quietly, his unfocused eyes still watching the men in the yard.
"Honestly, I think you're overreacting. What did he say? He wishes you died on the island? I mean I know it's bad and everything, but really, why did you kill him! Did you even think of the things that would happen after? Now you're probably going to go to jail for life! Or go to one of those places, you know where they hold those insane people? You're not insane Roger. I know you, you're just…"
"I'm what Maurice? What am I? A monster?" he felt cold inside.
"A monster? No. You're not a monster. Why would you think that?"
"S'what he called me."
"That's why you killed him?"
Roger turned violently towards Maurice, tears pricking his eyes.
"Of bloody course not! I killed him because he tried to kill me!" Roger was nearly yelling.
Maurice sat shocked at his friend's sudden outburst. Roger never yelled at him, much less talked to anyone.
"All I remember was him calling me a monster for killing Piggy, I don't know how he found out, and then I remember waking up, covered in my own blood. But no, I got him right back. I took my hunting spear and drove right into his chubby flesh. He was much softer than a pig, it broke the skin easily. And the blood." Roger laughed quietly.
"Roger, you're starting to sound like Jack. Let's go, we best find you some clothes.
Roger looked at his soggy spear and waterlogged clothes.
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure I heard some voices over there!"
Roger's body became rigid at the sound of the police man. For the first time, in a long time, he felt panicked. It was a new feeling for him, hearing his heart in his ears out of fear, instead of excitement and exertion.
"Roger, hurry let's go!" Maurice beckoned quietly. Seeing his friend wouldn't move, he grabbed his arm and pulled. They ran, staying low near the bushes without making a sound, a skill they picked up hunting pigs.
"Wait. Wait, Wait. My spear." He pulled his arm out of Maurice's hands, and despite the calls of the boy, ran back towards their previous hiding spot. He stopped meters from a police man, searching in close proximity of the weapon. Roger blinked, and looked for a distraction. He found one in something he knew well. He took up the medium sized rock and threw it into the bushes, a bit higher up the driveway.
Being the predictable human Roger knew, the man ventured off towards the sound, giving the generally monochromatic boy a change at the weapon. He grabbed it and bolted back to Maurice, who was waiting behind several large hedges.
"I was thinking about going back to my house? Is that ok? We can get you some clothes there. I know I'm a bit bigger than you, but hey, clothes are clothes" He finished with a grin unique to him.
Roger nodded.
"I know a short cut to my house, but we need to go 'cross the driveway."
"Look, over there, there are all the cars."
"Yes."
"We can sneak around behind those; no one is over there anyway."
With that the two boys slunk over to the cars with the roving lights. Roger occasionally glanced over towards the house, to make sure they aren't spotted. Maurice, being naturally curious, gazed into the police cars. He looked at the radio and he numerous food wrappers, he laughed quietly at the thought of the men stuffing their giant, fat faces. He walked over and the sun reflecting off the side-view mirror caught his eye. He looked in the mirror, and began to make funny faces in it, when he heard a small popping sound. He noticed Roger, on his knees next to the tires.
Maurice raised an eyebrow. "What're you doing?"
"Slowing them down." He muttered unemotionally.
He watched on for a few seconds as Roger dug a small pocket knife into the tires.
Maurice grinned. "Wizard. Where'd you get the knife?"
"They aren't as smart as society gives them credit for." He motioned over to the nearest police car. Maurice followed this motion to a car with an open door.
"Ha ha, evil."
Roger continued working on the tire.
"Well I am a monster."
***
Hope it lived up to your expectations.