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Lord of the Flies: Simon's Journal (short story)

Posted on July 30, 2009 at 1:15 AM

  I went out again today. I don’t know why, to get away from the others I suppose. I’ve been walking in the forest more and more. Just walking, alone. Thinking about things. I decided to venture up to the mountains today. As I made my way up through the rocky crevices the sun was just rising up over the wet canopy of the forest. The others would be getting up soon, wondering about me. Maybe. But I kept moving, I don’t know why, I just had to find out what was up there.

  It was almost noon by the time I made it to the top. I began to wander into the caves. It was dark, and wet, but I moved in deeper. Suddenly I had a terrifying feeling that I was not alone. The Beast! I thought at once. I spun around and began to sprint towards the entrance. Whomp! My foot hit something soft. I lost my balance and tumbled into something sharp.

  “Ahh!” I cried. I could taste blood, as tears welled up in my eyes. It was still pretty dark; I had wandered further than I thought. For a moment I felt like everything was lost. That I was lost in a cave; lost on an island; lost in an ocean. I pulled myself together and began to feel around for something to hoist myself up. As my hands moved across the damp, rocky floor of the cave I felt something thin and rough. Some ropes, perhaps. I followed them until I came to a smooth, cold object. At first I thought it was the Beast. But just as I was about to scream and bolt I noticed something. It wasn’t moving, or breathing. And it was soft. This was the thing I had tripped over. I picked up a handful of ropes and began to drag whatever it was to the outside. I thought maybe it could help us. Like it could be some airplane debris, or maybe even an abandoned dinghy. It was a long shot I know, but worth checking out.

  As I moved further and further towards daylight, I looked over my shoulder to see if I could make out the object. No, still too dark, keep moving. Check again, no. Keep moving.

  Eventually I made it outside. I heaped the tangle of ropes and orange material into a pile and began to pick through it. I noticed it was past midday. The sun was gliding steadily towards the horizon. I hoped the others weren’t worried. Suddenly I made a horrible discovery. The object wasn’t an object at all. It was a body. A dead body. The corpse of a Russian paratrooper. He must have come here after his plain crashed. All of a sudden everything made sense. The lights we saw in the sky a few nights ago were fighter plains. A plain must have been shot down by enemy fire and the creature the twins saw was not the Beast at all. It was the parachuter, probably crawling into this cave for shelter. In fact there was no Beast, I reckoned. It had all been in our heads. I have to tell the others, I thought. Quickly, before the groups become any more violent. Without another thought I dropped the parachuter and began to make my way down the mountainside.

  I reached the bottom just before dusk, with only one thought on my mind; reach the others before it’s too late. The Hunters had planned a big chase today, so I figured most of the boys would be at Jack’s Tribe tonight for a big feast. Jack’s area was roughly northwest through the forest,so I began to run that way.

  All I could hear was the thrashing of ferns and branches as I sprinted along the trail. The heavy sound if my breathing and my furious heart beat. Don’t stop, I told myself. I could hear the chanting of Jack’s tribe, and I knew I was almost there.

  It was dark now. The sun was almost completely gone. I was breathing hard; I had a stitch that was starting to sting me. So I slowed down to a steady jog. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw something, in a clearing nearby. I approached it carefully. It was the head of a boar, standing upright on a sharpened spear. Its eyes were sunken, and its fur was all mouldy and splattered with blood. Millions of fat, juicy flies covered it. This must be a treat for them.

  “The Lord of the Flies,” I whispered unconsciously. A chill ran down my back, I didn’t like it. I knew it was dead, but I felt it was watching me. What if it spoke? I felt the same feeling, that I was not alone. Maybe this was the Beast, maybe not; either way I didn’t want to stay a moment longer and I had to tell the others what I had seen. It was dark now, no doubt. I pulled a glow stick out, gave the eerie head another glance, and ran towards the beach; and the chanting of hunters.

Categories: WRITING, Short Stories

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