LOTF post # 1

Cream-Colored Conch
Perspective: Ralph

After the great thud of landing, we have emerged to find ourselves on a beach with no grownups to boss us around, or tell us to go to bed. The smell of burned fuel and rubber still lingers near the crash site, and a boy named Piggy and I have gone to explore. We made our way through the intracacies forest to find a lagoon so effulgent and beautiful I thought I was dreaming. After more exploring, we came across what I originally thought to be a large stone, but Piggy explained to me that it is a Conch shell and went on and on about not being able to blow it because of his ass-mar. I decided to blow on an opening in the shell, which produced a large noise. This noise unexpectedly drew the attention of all the other boys on the plane with us. Piggy began to take the names of all the children who arrived, some of them as young as 5 years and as old as 12 years. The conch also attracted a group of boys dressed head to toe in togs with a hambone frill. Jack, the leader of this choir was somewhat stuck up, but was also a good leader, as I was elected the chief of the children on the island, and I appointed Jack and the choir “hunters”. After this I told Jack and another boy, Simon, about my theory that we are actually on an island. We decided to form a group and go explore our surroundings. I did feel bad for Piggy, he wanted so badly to come along, but he knew as well as I did that he would only slow us down. We left him with the rest of the group Simon, Jack and I walked along the beach for a while, talking and laughing, but then we decided to head up the rocky slopes and scale the mountain above our island. As we reached the top of the mountain, we could see what seemed like forever stretching out below. We could see the entire forest at our feet, and even the group of boys, a small black smudge interrupting the beautiful motif of the landscape. As we descended, we heard a small rustling noise, and so we went to see what was happening. We discovered a small pig, throwing itself at the creepers that entangled it in a frenzy. We encouraged Jack to kill the beast, but he could not. I cannot say I would have been able to do so myself, the thought of all the blood, the wet, sticky blood… I feel faint at the thought. We have arrived back at the camp now, and I can see Piggy rushing towards me. I will write again soon in this record of our newfound life away from the grownups. Until then.
-Ralph