Epilogue: Lord of the Flies

His voice rose under the black smoke before the burning wreckage of the island; and infected by that emotion, the other little boys began to shake and sob too. And in the middle of them, with filthy body, matted hair, and unwiped nose, Ralph wept for the end of innocence, the darkness of man’s heart, and the fall through the air of the true, wise friend called Piggy (Golding, 290).

Even now he could remember it so clearly. He could still remember savage calls echoing through the trees, and the pounding of his heart in his chest.

Ralph heard the night watchman call lights out. The moon gleaming in the window was the only source of light within Ralph’s room now. Even in the dim light he could make out the sink and toilet. The room was padded, and the door had a glass window that reflected fluorescent light into the room. The combination of the artificial and natural light created a faint glimmer upon the mirror that hung above the sink.

Ralph sat on the edge of the old bed, a sigh leaving his lips. He always had a hard time sleeping after he and the other boys had been saved nearly two years ago. Over the course of the two years, the war had ended with both sides realizing neither could win. Moscow, London, Washington D.C., Paris, and Berlin had all been obliterated, leaving only a ghostly set of ruins, and violent memories.

Ralph’s head pounded lightly, and he rubbed at his eyes. He hadn’t gotten much sleep since he was rescued. How could he in such a cold, uncomforting place?

A flicker of light caught Ralph’s eye, but he ignored it. Somewhere deep in his mind, though, he sensed something familiar. A feeling of fear enveloped him and sent chills down his spine. He squeezed his eyes shut, and began rubbing the sides of his he...

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...hing over him.

“You let me fall!”

“No, Piggy!”

“You let me die. You let me lose my glasses!”

Ralph shook his head rapidly, standing up, and grabbing a hold of the mirrors frame. “No, Piggy, I didn’t! Honest!”

“Yes, you did! You did!” The screams pierced Ralph’s heart like a dagger.

“Piggy, please! Please!” Ralph

“I can‘t see, Ralph!”

The image of Piggy slowly began to fade to the black silhouette from where the image came. Ralph was shivering and sobbing uncontrollable, sinking back down to the ground, pulling his knees up to his chest. “Please, Piggy, don’t go. Piggy! I need to know, Piggy…”

Ralph wept and pulled at his hair. His last words before the everlasting pain was washed away into his subconscious once again.

“What was your name?”

Works Cited

Golding, William. Lord of the flies. Kindle ed. New York: Coward-McCann, 1962. Print. 290. 179.