Blog 8- KILL THE Simon?

Grey sky trickled down into the broken sea. Were the two of them met, was hard to determine. My body drifted with the on-going waves. Thunder cracked and popped with every flash of bright lightning. The place I had recently called home slowly drifted farther and father away from me. Below me the earth’s peaceful underwater creatures made their own society's and colonies. Forming together, and breaking apart. Finding friends and foes, and figuring ways to escape the water’s frightful beasts. Soon my body would become a home or food for one of those creatures. I was glad that I was able to sacrifice myself for them. Just like how the pig sacrificed her life for the other boys and me.

Some say, when you die, your life flashes before you. Not for me. My life, more, unrolled itself in my head. I remembered all the way back to when I was with my mother and father. Their faces, which had blurred in my mind during my time on the island, were crystal clear. I remember hugging them, their warmth seemed to wrap around me as I slowly reached the white light. I remembered my dog’s playful bark. The way we used to run through the snow, like a pack of huskies. The deep blue sky surrounding us; millions of small lights brightening our open playground. Then came the crash. The big, powerful plane jolted and ran among those very stars I once gazed upon. Turning them into a great blob of colors and fear. I remember the scream that couldn’t come out of my mouth as the ocean got closer and closer to me. I knew I was going to die, right then and there. And for some reason, I was okay with it. I let the water swallow me; I let nature take me back to its depths. I remembered the voice that told me to keep swimming. It told me not to fear the island. But I shouldn’t have listened to it. Obviously, I was supposed to end up in the ocean, I just should have let it take me, instead of joining the corrupt society that waited for me.

The island images came with the movie as well. I remembered that first hike up the mountain, that Jack, Ralph and I made. I had no idea then what fights would fall between them. I remembered my secret place in the jungle. The butterflies that fluttered through the light blue sky. Then the blackened pig’s head rushed through my memory. I should have listened to her advise and not gone back to the beach. I should have been afraid and not tried to act mighty and powerful. The hunters’ unkind, perverted words and actions filled my mind, making me want to puke. Then I thought of, when I did puke, way up on the mountain. The smell of the poor parachutists rotting body came once again. I remember my joy, of figuring out the real story behind the bulging beast. All I could think of was telling the others. The thought of the pigs warning didn’t even cross my mind. As I stumbled down the mountain, my mind was steadfast, on telling the other boys about the“beast”. I thought of how happy they would be, to hear the good news. I walked tremulously over there, in the pouring rain, which made it almost impossible. As I got closer I could Jack’s cruel game of Kill the pig;their chants, rising over the sound of the storm. I never thought I would become the center of their chants. But as I crept out of the dark forest, the noises of the overhead storm and chanting boys overruled my good news. Suddenly my skin was tearing. The weight, of what I thought to be my friends, or acquaintances, pushed down on my frail, weak bones. Pushing my deeper and deeper into the sand. Their chants got louder and filled with pride. I could feel my warm, thick blood spilling out onto the sand. Dyeing it a deep red.

My last sight was the parachutist, flying out to sea, to join me in our watery, secretive grave.