Lord Of The Flies Story

This essay has a total of 1455 words and 6 pages.

Lord Of The Flies Story

The war was over, but not without casualties. Numerous ships, planes and factories had
been bombed with regular bombs, and London was totally destroyed - by a single atomic
bomb. Only derelicts lived there now, not knowing of the harmful radiation that surrounded
what once was the great capital.

Slowly though, things were getting back to normal, shops began opening, and the war
started to shift to the back of people's minds. Life was becoming more normal, but the
memory of the war was still there, and always would be. Unfortunately, my memories of our
time on the island would never shift to the back of my mind - I would never forget what
the war meant to me. I might not have been killed, though I wish I had been, I might not
have lost my home or seen London go up a huge mushroom cloud of bright red light, but I
had lived with people that hardly deserve that title, people that became animals, people
that were worse than animals - murderers. And I myself, was one of them.

I was slowly getting better, but I never got through a night without hearing the chant and
Simon's furtive screams as we jabbed, attacked and mauled him, without seeing Piggy's fat
body flying into the air and then crashing down on the rocks. I had never recovered from
those experiences and at no time had a job. I live in a small, damp apartment above a coin
laundry. The greatest pleasure I had in life was feeding the pigeons in the park. I would
get what stale bread I could from the bakery to feed the birds. They would rush at me when
they saw me and fight for the small scraps of bread before it had even hit the ground.
They were animals, but not like Jack and the others, they were kind animals, they never
hurt anyone - they went about their lives regardless of us. Many times I wished that I too
could be a pigeon. I wanted to lead the simple life that they did, I wanted to forget what
had happened, I wanted to escape the plaguing memories.

It was Tuesday morning and I was feeding pigeons in the park. They were fighting for the
pathetic scraps of stale bread I threw on the ground as usual, looking at me begging me
with their eyes for more. I emptied the crumbs out of the plastic bag and the birds broke
into a frenzy. As I stood to leave, someone on the other side of the pond caught my eye.
He was tall, red headed and wearing an expensive suit with a woolen overcoat. He walked
briskly, taking no attention of the natural beauty around him. It took me only half a
second to recognise him. His was a face I would never forget. I could not believe my eyes;
I broke into a run, following him onto the street, as he stepped into a long black car,
and as he did so, he turned to me and I saw his eyes - his evil, evil eyes. I fell to the
ground. I felt sick in the stomach as I saw Piggy's body fly into the air, this time with
more detail than ever before. I collapsed.

I woke hearing the chant "Kill the pig. Cut her throat. Bash her in. Kill the pig. Cut her
throat. Bash her in." It was a painful sleep, even more so than the one's I had every
night. I could see the shocking memories again and again, each time more realistic than
the last. I could clearly hear Simon's voice over the other yelling and chanting,
frantically trying to explain about the 'beast' on the hill. If only I could have heard
him then. The sound was clear, but my vision was a frenzy. I could see what seemed like
hundreds of sticks poking and jabbing at every part of Simon's thin body, and I saw his
face - I could see the pain and I could see that he didn't understand why we were doing
this to him, and I saw eventually, him give up and collapse on the beach, a small trickle
of blood flowing from his body.

I also saw Piggy shouting at Roger about his 'specs'. I saw Roger lean forward on the
lever under the rock, and heard, with frightening realism, the creaking of the rock as it
lurched towards Piggy and myself. The rock fell and hit Piggy square, throwing him upwards
into the sky, and as he hit the hard rocks by the ocean, I heard his bones crack, before
he slid slowly into the ocean without a trace.

I had a rotten taste in my mouth and felt sick in the stomach. I was so angry I was
shaking, moving almost screaming. I felt terrible and there was nothing that I could do to
make me feel better - no pills I could use, no action I could take to make me feel better.
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