This Is a Short Story writing 10 years after Lord of the Flies by William Golding. I own nothing. Thanks for reading.

He was running from the fire. Running, running, running. He couldn't stop. He looked back. Kill the pig, cut her throat, spill her blood. The chant pounded in his skull. He searched frantically for the beach. he somehow knew the beach would save him. The forest would never end. The fire kept on coming. The ravenous flames licked his arms. The vines scratched his knees. Kill the pig, cut her throat, spill her blood. He knew he would surely die. He couldn't run any longer. Sweat dropped off his body like rain. His breathing became laborious, his legs started to give out. He knelt down and looked up at the fire. The flames, taunting him, formed a face. The face of his worst enemy. ¨I ought to be chief, Ralph." The monster cackled and the flames disappeared.
¨Crap!" Ralph sat up in bed. His dark hair, damp with sweat, obscured his vision. He breathed out a string of curses. Ralph was two and a couple decades old now. He never stopped getting nightmares. Everything in life reminded him. Reminded him of that island. After being rescued by the naval officer, who went by Captain Joe, the long boat ride home had began. It turns out that they were stuck on an undiscovered island near the bahamas. Ralph remembered the sailors muttering about this triangle of islands he’s never heard of. Jack was in bad shape. Adults were there, he had no power. He kept hallucinating, yelling, screaming. Finally, when the boat was about a day away from England, he hung himself. By then the sailors whispered rumors about our origins. The words “Devil children” were not used rarely. After returning home, none were willing to confess for Simon and Piggy’s deaths. The general consensus was to blame it on Jack. After a month though, Ralph couldn’t take the guilt. He turned himself in and told everyone the whole story. He was given the mandatory life sentence when he became of legal age, and so did the rest of the former islanders. Each and every lawyer of the children pleaded asylum. The charges were overturned and they were all put on medicine and given monthly psychiatric reports.
Ralph was alone. His mother had died three years after he had returned home. His father couldn’t take the guilt and abandoned Ralph. He got a job doing menial tasks and knew he would die without leaving a memorable legacy. As Ralph put on his suit and tie, and combed his hair, he realized he had lost that spark that was in his eyes. He wasn’t normal. He had longed for normalcy for years. By now, he had given up and accepted what he was. A misfit. Ralph walked to work. He had no money for a car. Besides, the hour walk kept him fit. After walking through from the suburbs, he had to walk on the side of a highway to get into the city. After walking about 45 minutes, a car had sped within 4 feet of him and honked wildly. Ralph dropped down to his knees and felt nauseous. The car had reminded him of the wild pigs who had run past him during the fire. He tried desperately not to remember, but that only made him remember more. He could hear the faint laughing of the man who was in the car. It was Jack’s laughing. Jack suddenly stopped the car and got out. He carried a long spear, crudely made. “Who’s a thief?” Jack sneered. Ralph got up, and he suddenly regained confidence. “You are.” Jack ran at Ralph wildly, his spear aimed at Ralph’s heart. Ralph quickly picked up his spear and deflected it quickly. He scraped the side of Jack’s face with his ear and brought his spear up against Jack’s. They looked into each other’s eyes. They were so close now they could hear each other’s breathing. “Thief!” Ralph yelled. Jack slid his spear out of the stalemate and turned it around. He held the end with the blade. They silently agreed on using the spears as swords now. Jack slapped Ralph’s fingers with the butt of his spear and switched places with him. “Come on, then, Ralph.” Ralph replied the same, substituting his name with Jack’s. Jack’s face became monstrous. “I’m chief!” he yelled. A rock hit Ralph in the side of the head. In the corner of his eye, he saw Piggy run away. With that, everything went blank.
Ralph arose from the side of the highway and hurried to work with a sad look on his face.
He was one of those people that everyone hated. A door-to-door advertiser. After hurrying in his office building, he was greeted by his boss, Tim. He yelled in his thick german accent, “Late again, Ralph?! I’d be in the right mind to fire you, you know!” Ralph nodded. “Sorry sir.” Tim sighed and shoved a briefcase into Ralph’s hands. Ralph hurried out of the building to do his work. He walked around a suburban neighborhood. Most people spat curses at him or simply didn’t open their door. Finally, he rang the doorbell of a small house, build only for one person. He waited and just as he was about to leave, the door opened. Ralph was shocked. Jack had opened the door and faced Ralph. Jack yelled “It’s the beast!” All at once, a mob of familiar faces came out of the doors and ran towards Ralph. He tried to run, but Jack had kicked him to the ground. Lightning came down, the thunder boomed concussively. Kill the pig, cut her throat, spill her blood. The children bit him, stabbed him, punched him. He began to lose vision. He struggled to break the circle around him. The murderers laughed and jeered as he fell down. Simon looked down and him, and sneered. “Why didn’t you help me, Ralph?” A sharp cry was emitted from Ralph’s mouth as thunder boomed again. Then all was silent.
Ralph woke up in the while sterility of a hospital. No.. This was no hospital. This was an asylum. Ralph could hear faint laughter. A nurse came by his bed and smiled. “Hello, Mister Merridew, welcome to Sunny Days.” Ralph glanced at the bedside mirror, Jack’s face stared back at him. Ralph spewed an unintelligible cry and smashed the mirror.
The suited man was strapped into a bed, being rushed to the emergency room for self inflicted stab wounds using glass shards. He struggled to release his bonds and was swiftly injected in the neck. He cursed and lost his ability to move. Everything got blurry. Ralph began to see images. Simon.. Piggy.. Jack.. he didn’t forgive himself. He never could. Ralph was lost. What was his purpose in life? He wanted to live again. Back before the crash and the horrible island. This wasn’t life. This was torture. What if he had died on the island?
There was still a bit of glass left in Ralph’s sleeve. He slowly cut away his bonds and proceeded to knock out his doctors. Ralph bandaged himself and ran out of the facility. He ignored his pain. Only escape, he thought. He was lost. Somewhere in the woods. It faintly reminded him of the island. He heard the chant again. Kill the pig, cut her throat, spill her blood. The fire surrounded him at all sides. The pigs ran past Ralph. He didn’t know what to do. He knelt down and cried. He didn’t cry for himself. He cried for his two lost friends. He knew how they felt. Their dying moments. A mix of curiosity, dread, fear, and most of all, loneliness. He would welcome death, he thought. He would be with his friends.
Ralph awoke in the middle of a forest, and he cried. Why didn’t he die? The fire surely would’ve killed him. He crawled and stumbled and found his way home. He looked around for his bed and fell into the deep descent of sleep. He awoke, bloodied and bruised. He knew he wouldn’t live long. The bruises on his face kind of looked like a birthmark, he noticed when he looked in the mirror. Then he remembered. The littlun with the mulberry birthmark. He had died that day, everyone knew it. Nobody cared to point it out though. He imagined how the family must have felt. The boy was unrecognized, but to them, he was everything. Was Ralph really that evil? He tried to imagine him in Jack’s place. He only wanted what was best for his own tribe. Was Jack the good guy? Ralph cried. He didn’t know anything anymore. Ralph folded a strand of rope in half. He folded it again. He compressed the rope and tied 12 loops around the end, the pushed the end he was holding back. Ralph tied the end with a firm square knot to his bedside ceiling and wrenched the loop around his neck. Ralph closed his eyes and stepped off the bed. He felt as if he were falling in slow motion.
He saw Jack, stepping off the boat into the open world, his whole life ahead of him.


Fin~


Explanation:
Allo, Bob here. Have you wondered why Ralph keeps dying? Well, it’s pretty hard to explain. You may have guessed it already, though. Ralph is reliving the deaths of the islanders. Why? He blames himself. He wishes he could save everyone. Even Jack. Sometimes, it makes people feel better to imagine what could have happened instead of what really happened. That’s all for now. Ciao.