Refuse to Fall
A/N: Hello everyone! This is my first Lord of the Flies fanfiction. Go easy on me. :)
Ralph lies curled at the base of the tree trunk, cold and tired and utterly alone. His clothes are in a pitiful state of being, pathetic to the point where they may as well not exist at all. The misery of having to run and hide is taking a toll on him; but it is not the hunt that has shattered Ralph's hopes, or even the forced betrayal of Samneric. Rather, it is the reality that his rescue was just a dream, and a rather heartbreaking one at that.
Ralph sniffles, drawing his knees closer to himself. His ribs poke out harshly from beneath his dirty, tanned flesh, but he can no longer remember a time when it was any other way- back when his skin still smelled of soap and sunshine. He smiles bitterly, supposing he should be somewhat thankful for his narrow escape, then remembers that it is only temporary.
Days ago he had slipped and fallen down a steep embankment- injuring his ankle, knocking himself out, and getting stuck in a muddy ravine in the process. Two days have passed since then -the third one ending today- and he feels his body growing weak with hunger and thirst. As he sits and massages his twisted ankle, Ralph's tired mind replays the dream over and over again:
"Jack's a stupid, stupid savage." Ralph thinks. "With a stupid, stupid, stupid spear. But...he would never be dumb enough to kill himself too."
He pauses, swallowing hard.
"There was no fire. There was no boat."
The scent of decay.
"There was nothing."
The taste of blood.
The feeling of grief.
"I want to go home..."
He stiffens, ignoring the timid, pathetic little voice resonating from behind.
The voice grows urgent, wrought with worry. There is undertone of barely-suppressed fear.
"Jack, Jack please-"
He turns around: slowly, patiently. His voice is calm.
You look so scared.
"Do you need something, Maurice?"
The air between them is stifling.
"...why are you doing this?"
And the question is so sudden; so simple. He is at a loss of what to say.
Maurice winces, stuttering nervously.
"I—I was just wondering. I mean, why? You're chief now, J-Jack. We're following you. Ralph doesn't matter anymore...and it's been two whole days...we're all so tired...let's just go home and r-rest..."
"Why don't you go talk to Roger?" Jack says smoothly. "I'm sure he'll be happy to take you."
The boy pales visibly, cringing at the name and the memory it brings.
"-Roger!" he calls, and almost instantly his right-hand man is by his side.
You are the worst.
"Yes. Go take Maurice home. Home- you hear me?"
But understand this:
"My pleasure." replies Roger. His gaze is dark, unwavering. Maurice shivers.
"Let's go home then, Maurice."
We're all the same.
He slumps, somberly hanging his head down in defeat. Maurice's bangs have obscured his eyes- but even so Jack can tell that the tears are flowing. He walks off as Roger rests a hand on the small of Maurice's back, guiding him in the other direction. A small smile flits across his face.
But the world is mine-
Cries of pain echo deep from the depths of forest: groans and moans and half-choked pleas for mercy.
Jack looks to the horizon, where the sun sets once again.
-and mine alone.
A/N: eh, so how is it so far? review? :D