Piggy Lord Of The Flies

Piggy

Bloody imbeciles they all are! With their stealing of specs and picking of pebbles. Throwing stones to miss! Oh why? Auntie would never allow such a thing.

How I wish Auntie was here. They would never get away with this pitiful, shameless murder. Simon... did he truly deserve the bashing? Like a sounder of wild pigs trampling over him, till the ocean turns pink, and the fish have their first feed. Thinking like that will do no good! The thieves of my dear specs are nothing more than squealing pigs. At Jack's side of the island I draw up my legs up on the rough rocks'. My lip wobbles uncontrollably. I hear the crashing sea and its power to sweep me up. Warrior cries rattle my ears. God, can't those kids just shut up?

Ralph announces again to assemble the little savages. The bloody personality of Jack advances from the forest. A masked hunter on either side.

With a thud, they drop a headless pig like meat for a dog.

With ludicrous care, I embrace the rocks, weeping for Ralph to not leave me above the sucking sea. The sound of snickers and laughter mimicking the crash of waves come from the fools.

Jacks voice is tumbling out once more, the air around falls dead. With boiling blood Ralph furiously retaliates.

I watch Jack plunge at Ralph with a spear, but he misses by a hair. The fight is senseless. Jack swings at Ralph, with little intent to dare the lethal points.

I cry for Ralph's attention, still clutching to the rock. He bends down without bringing his eyes to me.

Remember what we came for.

Ralph orders the masks to give the specs. The boys giggle.

He defends, "you're a beast and a swine and a bloody, bloody thief!"

Before I knew it, the two were charging, panting... grunting. I couldn't take it no more.

I lift the conch and announce a game of "which is better...?" for the ignorant children. I continue, against the clamber of voices, "Which is better, law and rescue, or hunting and breaking?" Island booming, Jack's powerful voice overpowers Ralph's of reason. Jack and his tribe gather with spears, intentions of charge. I stand near Ralph holding the talisman, now fragile shell. With a mixture of fear and pride we stand against the incantation of hatred.

Why, they didn't come for the conch... He didn't want the conch, no more than Ralph wants the spear.

The earth shivers harshly beneath my feet.

Looking up at breaking stones, a monstrous red rock flies down from the cliff. Paradise throws shadows over my sunken eyes, till I succumb and drop dead. Drowning me in the same hues of the conch, my last grunt washes away.

452 words