In my literary class, we were assigned a LOTF project where we had to pick a specific prompt and write about it. Each prompt had something to do with the story, and the one I selected was that I had to write a collection of journal entries from the POV of a character of my choice. Naturally, I chose Simon. So here is my class project on LOTF that I really should have posted a while ago, I suppose. Feel free to give me feedback, if you so choose. I also apologize for its length, I may have gotten a little carried away, heheh;;
We crashed landed in the plane last night. I’m not quite sure how it happened; most likely it had something to do with enemy fire and dark clouds. I woke up this morning tangled up amongst ropes of shrubbery in some place I didn’t recognize. I was confused out of my wits before I stumbled upon some of the other choir members scattered around in the greenery. They looked just as dazed as I probably did. We grouped together, the nervous atmosphere rather obvious, and that was when Jack found us. He didn’t seemed fazed at all by the situation, in fact, he ordered us around with his usual demeaning shouts and air of superiority. He directed us into our two routine lines—which was hard to keep together considering all the roots and vines we had to squirm through in our togs—and currently Jack is having us track down the source of a mysterious hooting noise coming from beyond the trees ahead. I think we’re on an island, but I’m not sure.
I’m curious to find out what that sound is. –Simon
Turns out the thing causing the noise was a shell. You have to blow from one end to get it to make the sound like a trumpet. By making all that noise, lots of the other boys—some of them I remember seeing on the plane—had gathered and formed a group around the one with the shell. Only at the time I didn’t get much of a chance to look further because the last thing I remember before my head felt light and the world went black was our troop coming to a halt in the heat that was unbearably suffocating in our sun-absorbing, black cloaks. I came to not long after, realizing I was propped up against the trunk of a tree and found we were now giving introductions. It was discovered that the boy blowing the shell went by the name of Ralph. He seemed nice enough, and when it was my turn to say my name I was sure to give him a polite, though markedly feeble, smile. There was then a dispute about electing a leader among the group, the candidates being mainly Jack and Ralph, and although I probably would have voted for the latter on my own terms, the choir was—more or less— obligated to vote for our head chorister. Ralph wound up winning chief in the end, though he allowed Jack to remain being the leader of our small pack. It was decided we would be hunters, much to my dismay. I don’t like killing things. Maybe I’ll just resign from the choir until we get back home. I was also chosen to explore around with Jack and Ralph. We’re leaving now to investigate the rest of the island.
If this is actually an island, of course. –Simon
We discovered it is an island after all, and later that the blowing shell is called a conch. On our expedition we saw that the jungle around us is really vast and pretty, and that there’s the peak of a mountain in the center. From up there, one can see broad sheets of water surrounding the land on all sides. While we were returning back to the others with this information, we also spotted a small wild pig. Jack was very eager to slaughter the animal, too. I felt like protesting but thought better of it, and thankfully the piglet scurried off before it could be harmed. However, I couldn’t help but feel a bit concerned about how anxiously Jack wanted to kill it. He seemed almost too ambitious it… When we got back to the rest of the group, we started discussing things. There was then a boy with a smudge-like birthmark across his cheek who came forward and, through another boy who was referred to as Piggy, mentioned that there was some beastie he saw in the night. I felt bad about how scared he seemed to be, though we all agreed that it was just a nightmare of his that spooked him. After a while, it was decided that there would be a signal fire set up so we can be rescued by a passing ship or plane, and now we’re all gathering wood and piling it up at the top of the mountain.
I hope we can go home soon. –Simon
It’s been a while since we’ve first arrived here. Nonetheless, I’ve realized that a lot of the others don’t seem to have a passing thought about this fact. I’ve been helping Ralph build shelters most of the day. I only left him to his own devices when he began a conversation—really more like an argument—with Jack again. I didn’t feel like playing with the rest of the boys much, not at the moment at least, so I warily decided to go to that one place I know. I don’t mind being around other people, even if they can be mean to me at times, but lately I’ve realized how much I enjoy going and being alone in this place of mine. On my way I was beckoned by a cluster of littluns who pleaded to have some fruit reached for them, since they were a bit too short to reach the ripest above. I was happy to oblige. It’s a part of my principles to offer a hand to those who are in need of it. Once they were content and had their fill, I made my leave, and soon I reached my destination of a small, barely visible entrance in a clump of trees. That’s how I get inside. It leads to my hidden space. I’m thankful that the rowdy—almost destructive—playfulness of the others hasn’t tainted this sanctuary yet. The brilliant, tranquil air of nature surrounds me now, in all the trees and flowers and butterflies.
For the time being, I feel at peace. –Simon
A ship passed by today, but there was no smoke from the signal fire. Sam and Eric, the twin boys who were in charge of looking after the fire at the time, went instead with Jack to hunt down a pig, leaving the flames to dwindle down to a pile of ash. I felt very distraught at this, though Ralph seemed more so. I’d never seen him so angry before. What made things worse was when Jack appeared then with a butchered pig, and his boasting and excitement made Ralph practically shake with rage. I must admit, the tension I felt between the two unnerved me greatly. The pig was then cooked and the meat handed out, though Piggy, despite his complaints, was never given any. I was rather troubled by this, and I gave him my share, feeling bad about how the others always treated him so terribly, hurting him, tearing his glasses away, depriving him of food… My action was met by a furious scolding from Jack. He threw more meat at me, and I suppose I couldn’t help but feel daunted and ashamed. Now, the hunters, my former group, have started up a barbaric dance. They’re chanting words now. Words about how they slaughtered the pig, over and over again…I feel appalled…
Ralph’s calling a meeting now. I’d better go. –Simon
What Ralph talked about at the meeting I agreed with. He talked about how things are “breaking up”. How we first planned to do things but they were never gone through with. Then the topic of the beastie was brought up again. They were saying how the beast came out of the sea this time. All the talk sounded scary, but I still couldn’t bring myself to completely believe in it; I wanted to tell the others what I thought. I gathered my courage then and motioned to Ralph that I wished to speak. He seemed surprised. Speaking publicly is far more terrifying than any beast in my opinion. I found it hard to put my thoughts into words, though from the moment I began I already knew I had been defeated. I was laughed at harshly, and it shook the very core of my being. All I wished to say was that perhaps the only thing we had to be afraid of was us in ourselves. If we keep up the way we’re acting now, I feel that inevitably we’ll end up as scary as this beastie we’re describing, but no one would listen; no one ever seems to listen to me. Later, Ralph mentioned privately to Piggy and I that maybe he should give up being Chief, and we did our best to convince him otherwise. If he stops being chief, I’, certain the last remnants of peace here will shatter.
The night later ended with another bout of that savage dancing. –Simon
Sam and Eric saw the beast. They said they really saw it. They described it having teeth and claws and that it was fearsome looking; though, this made me very confused. If this supposed creature was so vicious and terrible, then how would it have not been able to catch the two boys? Ralph decided we would go hunt it down; Jack seemed to agree. He said that the only place he hadn’t been on the island was a cluster of rocks at the end, and that’s where we opted to go. The search began. We walked on for a while and I was soon left to my own thoughts. I later saw Ralph by himself towards the back of the hunting party, so I went to walk in pace with him, partially wondering if he’d be willing to talk. Instead, he merely cast me a sidelong smile of acknowledgement, but I still couldn’t help but feel slightly relieved by this. He didn’t seem bothered at all by the fact that I had practically humiliated myself in front of the assembly just a while before. I felt comfortable, a pleased feeling passing over me as I finally was accepted amongst someone.
Then I crashed into a tree. –Simon
It all started off well I suppose. I noticed earlier that Ralph seemed distraught in his thoughts, so I decided to reassure him with something I felt I knew as a fact. He’d be okay after all this…I could feel it. He didn’t seemed to believe me when I told him, but I was almost certain about this much at least. He’d get home all right. Later, our group came upon another pig and we—excluding myself—nearly caught it. Ralph was rather excited about the fact that he had wounded the animal, even more so when the others praised him about it. Then before long another dace manifested and this time Robert had reenacted the part of the pig. It seemed playful enough at first but then a sniveled cry was heard and regardless of his yelps of complaint the others suddenly held him down and continued to prod at him vigorously with their spears. I stood by, helpless. After another bit, he was finally set free and I remained quiet, still partially in shock. Particularly at Ralph; he had become a savage for a moment there as well.
As the day grew later, it was soon realized that we might not make it back to camp before the sun set. When Ralph asked if someone would go warn Piggy about this fact, who was the only one left back with the littuns, I quickly volunteered. I didn’t want to have to see any other changings in the others.
I left before Ralph, or anyone else, could protest. –Simon
Ralph, Jack, and Roger said they saw the beast now. They said it sat up and looked at them from on top of the mountain. There was a time of more quarreling when we all discussed this, then after Jack called for a reelection for leader and lost once again, he up and left the group. He was on the verge of tears. I felt pity for him. Even without Jack, the meeting continued. It was then an idea formulated in my head, partially. I pulled myself together and wished to speak. In response was a shrill bleating of laughter from the others. I shrank; speaking before other people continuing to be my downfall. However, I still managed to word what I wanted and suggested we climb the mountain again today. We didn’t exactly have any other choice. I thought, in the daylight, we might inspect the beast for a second time. Once again, no one heeded my words. So I decided to go and try on my own.
What I came across was far worse than any beast I could have expected. As I had left, multiple boys had also apparently followed Jack into his tribal separation, and they hunted down another pig. I caught sight of the entire ordeal from where I crouched in the underbrush; it nearly caused me to feel faint again. It was horrific. The pig’s desperate screams are still ringing in my head. This wasn’t hunting…this was murder.
I fainted again. I woke up just now and found that the other boys have gone and taken the carcass with them. Or, most of it. The head of the sow is resting on the point of a stick and is positioned upright in the ground. It’s now staring straight at me now with grim, accusing eyes. I can feel a voice murmuring in my head.
I’m going to go up to it. –Simon
It spoke to me. The Lord of the Flies spoke to me. I think I fainted once more, and now my nose is bleeding. It scared me. I knew it all along. The beast really is something to be feared, but it doesn’t have a physical form—not really. It’s us. The beast is us. It’s that feral part inside people that is triggered, for better or for worse, by fear in itself. It can still cause harm to others though. That’s what worries me.
I’m going to find this trigger now. –Simon
I found it…It looks like the dead body of a man with a parachute. I suppose he was in one of those fighting jets before he was shot down from his plane, just like us. I wrenched him free from the strings that strapped him to the tree and seemed to make him move. I have to tell the others so they won’t be scared any more. I can see a column of smoke in the distance; they must have moved camp
I have to go tell them.—Simon
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