16 April 2013
The Everlasting Fire
The waves crashed against the lone island once more. Ralph sat in a covert, huddling himself for warmth. He closed his eyes. Flashes of his comrade and friend, Piggy, filled his wandering mind. Ever since he had died, Ralph never stopped thinking about it. A brisk, cold wind shocked Ralph and he quickly stood. Dusk was drawing near, and his wounds from the other encountering boys had ceased to stop. Noises from the jungle northwest of him began to sound with the sound of chanting boys and the crackling of the fire that had been consuming the island. Frightened, Ralph ran to the beach hoping for an escape. All he could do was pray to God that something would save him – a ship, a plane, anything. But he looked up into the clear night and saw nothing. There was no choice but to run. The savages were nearly fifteen meters behind him. Ralph felt his lungs conflagrate into burning flames and he could no longer feel his bony legs. He felt immensely exhausted and unaware to his surroundings, trips over the ragged rocks nearby, hitting his head. Ralph's body began to relax despite the horrible pain on the top of his head and a comforting darkness consumed Ralph quickly. Even though Ralph knew of the dangers that were after him, he couldn't help but enjoy the pleasantness the darkness provided. The world was black and dark when Ralph came to. All he knew he had fallen into the darkness and now was on the uneven soil of the jungle. Opening his eyes fully, he woke completely with shock. The savages were standing above him, their faces painted in the horrid war paint. The faces around him were ones without emotion. There was no regret, no guilt, and not even a hint of pity. The only thing that the faces cared about was the double-head spears held close to Ralph’s chest. In unison, they advanced closer. Ralph’s breaths quickened, eyes fastened on the deadly spears. However, the spears were not the only...