Lord of the Flies: The Start of Something

The Ghost of the Flies

BREE'S POV

The forest was the perfect place for a game of hide and seek tag. The thin trees were plenty enough to have many hiding places and the game kept my mind off of the issue with Jack. Ralph and I stayed at the west side of the island, in order to stay away from Jack and the hunters. I hadn't seen or heard from them since Piggy's death, and I was sure there was a big storm coming my way.

"You're it!" Ralph laughs, tapping my shoulder lightly.

Laughing, I whirl away from him and cover my eyes with my hands. "One... two..." I start.

Seeking was always my favorite part of the game. Hiding was fun, but you always had the feeling that you were never safe. Ever since I was little I found comfort in the blanket of safety that surrounded my life up until I was abandoned on this island. The little scrap of safety I find from this game stays inside my heart and warms it.

I hear Ralph rustling around in front of me.

"Ralph, I know where you are," I say, laughing. It's silent. "Ralph?" I uncover my eyes to see a boy with curly locks standing in front of me, stick in one hand and the conch, broken, in the other. His cold, brown eyes stare into my soul. I instantly know who it is.

"Simon," I whisper. "I'm sorry." He seems to flicker in the moonlight. I reach my hand out, trying to touch the boy's cheek. He steps back, and I pull away. A shiver snakes down my spine as the first sound of his monotone voice fills my ears.

"There isn't anyone to help you. Only me. And I'm the Beast."

His pale fingers stretch out like talons to snatch me and take me with him. I knew there was no escape, because he was a part of me that would never disappear. And I spiraled into an oblivion of darkness.

RALPH'S POV

"Wake up, Bree," I shake the sleeping girl. I came back from hiding for a while to find Bree lying on the ground. I was starting to think that she had been that mean little kid who let the other person hide, and then never found them. I had always been on the receiving end of that joke, and did not want to be ever again.

"Bree?" I nudge her arm with my elbow, then assess her unconsciousness. There seems to be no sign of head injury, but I notice a piece of glass sticking out of her foot.

"Oh shit, Bree I'll be right back! Hang in there," I tell her. I run to a nearby stream and tear off my shirt. I rip it in half and soak one half in the cool water. When I reach Bree again, she had woken up already.

"How are you feeling?" I ask her, kneeling down to clean her wound.

"I-I..." she starts, cradling her hurt foot.

"What?"

"Oh no, it was probably a dream," she replies, shaking her head. "Ouch!"

"Sorry, I need to pull this thing out of your foot so it doesn't get infected. Here, hold my arm," I say, clutching her foot. She grips my arm tightly and clenches her teeth as I pull the shard from her damaged foot. I look in my hand to see what had impaled Bree and I instantly recognize the cream and white pattern of the conch.

"The conch," I whisper, looking at the ground. How did the conch get over here? And how did it break? A noise breaks my thoughts.

Gasping, Bree's face turns white. "The conch. It wasn't a dream, it was real."

I finish bandaging Bree's foot and pull her over to a fallen log.

"What happened," I ask with concern in my eyes. Bree tells me of the ghost of Simon returning to her. Don't get me wrong, I trust Bree, but she was injured and I just don't believe in ghosts. Ghost stories never scared me as a child when my friends would try to use them to spook me into staying up all night. I guess I've always had a logical view of the world. Which is why Bree's story didn't just add up quite right to me.

"You don't believe me," she whispers quietly. She turns her head away to gaze at the trees in front of her.

"Bree, you're tired. And injured. There's no way a-"

"No, I saw him. I saw him in front of me," Bree rants softly. "He was standing there and I saw him. You have to be wrong. I saw him and he was standing right there..." A silent tear creeps down her forlorn face. I hold her in my arms and she sits, weeping on my shoulder. In that moment, I realize the emotional toll this has taken on all of us. Especially Jack and Bree. We had become adults in a small amount of days. In a few minutes, sobs rack my body as I hold onto Bree tightly.

Pulling away from her, we look at each other. "Maybe it's only us," I say, gripping her hands.

"What?" Bree sniffs, wiping her eyes.

"The Beast."

"What do you mean?" She asks.

"The Beast that you said Simon mentioned. Maybe the Beast is living inside of us. It's been turning us to savages, to emotional wrecks, to beasts."

Bree shivers. "I thought Simon was talking about Jack. But I think you're right. This island changed us. If we get off the island, nothing will ever be the same. Ralph, I've witnessed murder."

I take a deep breath. "Bree, I've been through things too. But I know we will get through this, as long as I have you. You tame the beast inside of me."

It's cheesy, but it works. Bree smiles and lays her head on my chest. We watch the sun set over the horizon.

Meanwhile, smoke fills the tropical air.