The woods are lovely, dark and deep, but I have promises to keep

And miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep. Lord of the Flies ask/RP blog for Simon's ghost upon the island, amongst other versions of Simon. Please read rules and muse pages.

[sunsetquotes]

Whatever someone you become, and wherever you are in the world, I’m sending you love. You’re my friend to the end.

Spike Jonze; Her

[simons-ghxst-blog]

Sweetheart, it's ok. Somewhere out there, someone misses and loves you. It doesn't matter how long it's been. In the end, it'll all be OK.

A weak smile crossed his face at the kind words, but still Simon’s chest ached with the words. It was a kind lie, but a lie nonetheless.

“I think... I think I’d prefer if they forgot me... I bring nothing but bad memories forth for many...” 

[simons-ghxst-blog]

No one cares, not anymore. How long has it even been? Years, decades? Are they all dead and gone? No one misses you. No one even remembers your name.

Simon had long since lost count of how long it had been. He had no way of counting the days, no way of marking them off, and it all seemed so hopeless to try. It didn’t change anything, and it didn’t make the days pass any faster. He had no doubt by now all those who had known him had at the very least moved on, if not passed on. He had no doubt there had been no stories of the boys that had died on the island, an unpleasant topic, and he would have been pleased for them all to have let all the horrors of the island slip from memory.

Certainly, they weren’t stories to share with anyone else.

And so, Simon was forgotten, asides from a myth of the child ghost on an island nobody visited. At least, the wildlife and trees flourished under the protection of a new civilisation, untouched by those who would seek to use its land. His loneliness was insignificant when compared with the islands need to recover. He could take some solace in that.

“That’s okay… I remember them… and that’s enough.”

Some days, he swore he could still see Ralph playing on the beach, littluns splashing in the shore edge, could hear Maurice cheering up crying littluns, and hear Jack’s sharp commands to his choir. He missed the noise most of all, the hubbub of daily life, of children, before everything had gone so terribly wrong.

[simons-ghxst-blog]

The universe is cruel. Any goodness turns sour, any happiness ripped away. Protesting is useless, and everything ends in pain. You struggled against it while you could, but they broke you for it. Boys with spears and malice in their eyes.

Simon smiled weakly, nails digging into his arms as he tried to hide his distress.

“Th-that’s such a bleak outlook... and it’s n-not true... Goodness, and happiness always wins out in the end... You’ll see... you’ll see...” 

[simons-ghxst-blog]

If you really were a good person, then why are you here? Why aren’t you in heaven? Why are you stuck in this hell for eternity, with no escape?

Simon was silent for a long time, the question one he’d asked himself many times. Tortured himself with for days and nights. There was no sleep. There was no reprieve. It was endless. Why was he here? What was there left to do?

“I...” He started softly. “I suppose... there’s something still left for me to do... This can’t really be Hell, can it?” He looked up, eyes wide and pleading. “B-but- I guess if it is... then I must have done something to deserve it. I must have done wrong by God... I wish I could go back and fix it...”

After all, who was he to argue with God? A silly little child, nothing more, nothing less, he would take what he was given. 

[simons-ghxst-blog]

Ralph didn’t care. Didn’t care enough to help you. Didn’t care enough to save you. He was there, you know? That night. He joined in. He enjoyed it.

Simon’s eyes teared up at the very mention of Ralph and he shook his head furiously.

“N-no- It- it was an accident- and Ralph- Ralph apologised- he- he certainly d-didn’t enjoy it- he suffers for it-” He chewed at his lip. He was so fond of Ralph, perhaps even more so than the boys he’d known longer. He had noticed Simon far more than anyone else had, had appreciated his help, and Simon had greatly enjoyed his company. Ralph tried so hard to keep everyone together, and to keep everyone safe and happy.

“You- you clearly... don’t know him like I do...”

[simons-ghxst-blog]

Jack never cared. None of them did. If they'd really cared, they wouldn't have killed you.

“Jack c-cared!” Simon protested, finding his voice once more against all the odds. To him, that was irrefutable fact, at the very least. Jack had always taken care of him - he had never abandoned Simon when he’d fainted, and he had fed him even when Simon had willingly given his food away. Many times, Jack hadn’t had to do anything for Simon, but he had, and he had never asked for anything in return. 

“He’d never have knowingly hurt me... never.” Simon murmured, trying to reassure himself of as much. “It- it was an accident. He didn’t kn-know it was me... it was my fault...” 

[simons-ghxst-blog]

You good?

Simon smiled weakly and swallowed, hands wringing against each other nervously.

“...Why wouldn’t I be?” He murmured, quite unable to lie but quite unwilling to appear rude or to upset another with his sadness or loneliness. 

[simons-ghxst-blog]

They knew what they were doing. It wasn’t an accident. You know that, right?

Simon was silent for almost a full minute, his mind at war with itself. He knew it to be an accident and yet sometimes a voice inside himself said otherwise. ‘They heard you.’ it mocked him, and taunted him, leaving the poor ghost split in two.

“I- I d-don’t want to talk about that...” 

[simons-ghxst-blog]

How can they forgive you? They are murderers now, their lives fractured because you surprised them in the dark, scared boys on the lookout for a beast. They thought it was you, and you know what? They might not have been wrong.

Simon’s eyes widened, mouth gaping open for a second in pure shock. He- he wasn’t- Although he had said us, and the us had included him. But Simon wasn’t- he hadn’t- had he?

But then, hadn’t the boy’s still been afraid of a beast after his death? Hadn’t they still hunted it? Let it fuel their fear and anger?

“B-but-”

He had no excuses. No reasons. No response. What could one say to such an accusation?

“I- I was trying to tell them there was no b-beast, and- and that they had nothing to be sc-scared of. I w-was trying to h-help- I j-just wanted th-them to not be scared anymore-”

“I- I know I h-hurt them, and I d-didn’t m-mean to- a-and I’m s-sorry. I’m so sorry.” His eyes began to water, tearing up. 

[simons-ghxst-blog]

Did your family even care that you died? Did they care that the weak link was gone, the disappointment? Never quite up to the standard, were you? Never good enough.

Simon very visibly flinched away, and tried to walk away from it, although the words followed him. He covered his ears and tried to shake it away, trying to rid himself of the anguish. But the words simply took hold of his soul as mould took to bread, breeding and growing until it threatened to choke his entire being.

“N-no- I- I- I t-tried- I-” His voice got softer, barely audible as he spoke again. “They... probably didn’t even notice I was gone...”

What a terrible thing to say, to think. Simon truly was a wicked child.

[simons-ghxst-blog]

It was your own fault, you know? You brought it upon yourself. You weren’t the same as then, you weren’t as good as them. There’s no use blaming anyone else, it all lies with you. You should have done better.

“I- I know- I don’t blame anyone else.” Simon chewed at his lip, staring at the ground. “I w-wasn’t thinking... I shouldn’t have surprised them all like that... I- I asked for it..”

Stupid, stupid child. What a mess he had made.

“Do... do you think they’ll ever forgive me...?” 

[simons-ghxst-blog]

How did it feel to die? How did it feel to know that your only true friends had betrayed you, had seen you as dangerous, had hated you enough to kill you?

“Wh-what?” Simon’s bottom lip trembled, the words washing over him and leaving a bad taste.

“I- They- they- it w-was an accident. Th-they didn’t hate me. N-not even- Especially- Jack didn’t- He m-might have been... annoyed... at times b-but he didn’t hate me. A-and Ralph- he d-didn’t hate me either-” Oh, he was beginning to ramble and Simon hated that. 

“Y-you d-don’t know-” 

[simons-ghxst-blog]

i still like you the most. you'll always be my favorite ghost.

Simon smiled slightly and tried to shuffle his feet in the sand, shyness overcoming him. Well, that was nice in a strange sort-of way.

“Th-thank you... do you know.. many ghosts?” 

[simons-ghxst-blog]

‘Cause it’s too cold for you here, now, so let me hold both your hands in the holes of my sweater

Simon tilted his head, confused, although a shy smile drew across his face.

“It’s okay, I don’t feel the cold anymore. I guess that’s one advantage to being a ghost. The storms still come and the winds blow, but I don’t get cold...” Simon glanced off at the sky, airy expression on his face. 

[simons-ghxst-blog]

A girl’s voice, distinctly American--and much too cheerful for this situation-- answered him. “Nope! No survivors, just total carnage and destruction and death.” A hatch opened up somewhere near what used to be the top of the plane, and a girl with chopped-short, bright purple hair and soot-covered skin poked her head out.

Simon gasped a sigh of relief that at least one person had survived, even with the conflicting account given of no survivors. Although dread at the same thought filled him, he wondered where on earth they were supposed to get food from. The island was too sparse and too lacking in resources right now to feed anyone without seriously risking the recovery of all the species there.

He chewed at his lip even further despite having already destroyed it. It stung slightly, the ghost evidently able to hurt himself.

“I- W-well- Ah- They- they don’t come out here anymore...” 

[simons-ghxst-blog]

What do you think happened to your family? Do you miss them?

“I- I don’t know... they probably assumed I died in the crash a-and moved on...” Simon murmured, fingers anxiously pressing against each other. Honestly, he hadn’t considered it, almost... at all. Which filled Simon with shame and guilt. He was a wicked child.

“I- I miss them... I’ve always missed them, s-since we set foot on the island... I miss home...” Simon chewed at his lip, anxiety raising. He did miss his siblings, and his mother, and at times his father.