A True Wise Friend - Lord of the Flies Epilogue AS
Deviation Actions
UPDATE: Once again, Im leaving this here to transfer to my other device for school. But I might make an actual fanfiction of this so eh. If its shit, tell me so I can get an A. And also- DONT STEAL GOD DAMM
UPDATE: I FINSIHED IT YAYYYYY
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“A True Wise Friend”
- Lord of the Flies Epilogue -
A crisp soft breeze carried the blonde's strand hairs with its current as the man in coal-black attire made his way along the craggy pavement. A heavy paced beat cracked upon concrete as the man hustled with his polish dress shoes. He carried a bouquet of coral pink camellias and carnations in his hands, once clenched of grievance, turmoil, a conch; a spear. He clutched the flowers closer to his pulsating heart, his legs, throbbing and pleading for rest. The man in coal-black attire began to grow timorous as goosebumps plumped on his forearms and the blood sloshed in the vessels of his heart. A familiar metallic taste wavered in the air with a pounding wave of dread knocking in; It resembled the cry of the sea, the wrath of the ocean as it clobbered at white sand of the island’s shore—NO!!!
“..No, I must f-forget the mark we've burned on ourselves for only the sake of one’s selfish desires.” The man in coal-black attire cried in his thoughts, the soles of his shoes continued clapping on concrete.
Moments ago, the taxi he'd taken abruptly broke out in the middle of a intersection, leaving the man in coal-black attire half a mile from his desired destination. Stupidly enough, he was somehow led astray within the smoky suburb and murky alleyways. Strides down streets, with near fatalities of potential run-overs in middle of crossways and twist and turns down rack and ruins of five-story apartments and classic British cafés felt sickening, blacktop roads never seemed endless. Lampposts bolted into the pavement dimmed a goldenrod essence, as vermillion and scarlet leaves cluttered sewer grates. Stratus clouds floated overhead of small towns and villages with hazy fog slightly damping the blond’s hair. Townsfolk were dotted all over the streets, walking or blathering or plainly taking in the pleasure being along side with their beloved ones.
The man in coal-black attire once understood that pleasure, that fulfilling and light-hearted enjoyment of spending those homesick days with a beloved one.
With a friend. With—
“Piggy..” The man whispered out, feeling wretched and doleful.
The name screeched in his ears as hot tears burst out like waterfalls from crumbled remains of a dam and stream down his face, his eyes started to ache and swell. The muscles of his chin trembled and let out a string of pathetic whines and moans, drool seeping from the corners of his mouth. The man in coal-black attire wiped away the tears bubbling from the lids of his eyes with his white sleeve cuffs. His breathing was ragged and let out harrowing sobs. The bundle of flowers’ stems crumpled at his grasp, hissing its blood and oil onto the man’s hand, with pollen swarming clean air.
A predatory instinct attacked and racked shivers down the back of the man in coal-black attire, as the stare of clustered eyeballs watched the man with perplexity and ignorance. Children were hauled by the hands of their guardians, being driven away from the opening scenario strangers walk past. Adults casted their attention to the weeping man in coal-black attire, not needing to see the whites of their eyes to know judgement and ignorance were thrown in the playing table. Their gaze scraped racks down the man’s spine like talons of a beast, a constant stares of ignorance never parting.
A sudden voice crackled against the man in coal-black attire.
“Parted? IT never parted from you, never had, never will,”
The man’s interior guts churned as it squelched and gasped, another stab of a needle punctured at the thick walls of his heart. Fear took over one more as the voice in his head left him trembling.
“The beast, ThE beASt!!—You’d-d think leaving the island will mAgICalLy make your wrong-doings disappeAr; as if anything you've done that has cause a world of utter beauty to crisp ashes never HAppENeD?!?” The voice claimed, pinpointing the man in coal-black attire to a shaking mess on the pavement.
“The beast was always with you, with Roger, even with Samn’eric. Just. Like. JaCK!—You’re just. like. HIM!—”
“NO, NEVER! I’M NO SAVAGE—”
“Oh yes, but you aRE—You k-killed SiMON, you let them burn the island to ash, you let Piggy die!”
“NO, I DIDN’T— HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW?”
“You would've known if you CaRED aBOut HIm— YoU leFt hIm To roT with the island, you SAVAGE!!!”
“—QUIET!”
Questioning looks and concerned call outs melded into a twisted perspective, crowds of civilized mutuals warped to seas contaminated of plain, filthy ignorance. They could never comprehend the madness that consume his innocence. His cheeks flushed a merlot red of distress, puffy eyes swollen from the intense meltdown. A nauseate blotch of mucus and droll paint the cuffs of his sleeves a dim gray.
“Ignorant, ignorant, ignorant—Ignorance of man I tell you,” the man in coal-black attire cursed while pushing against the throng ahead of him.
“You are no less ignorant from man, I tell you. You’re no lesser than a savage.”
“Noooooo..” He whined pathetically.
Cornered, the pavement blurred beneath him a surge of adrenaline spiraled to the nerves of his legs. The steady thump of footsteps echoed went in synth with veins pumping to his ears, as a bead of sweat roll down his forehead. He felt as if the beast followed, ironically being the shadow stretching from his shoes. His heart thumped loudly as it pumps the sloshing bloods through its veiny vessels, a pang of trepidation surged through like taking an arrow to the knee. The bracing breeze ran through his hair as lampposts and ramshackle apartment buildings past by the man in coal-black attire, were only blurs and shapes. The petals of the flowers were soon drifting away from the stem, all tousled and crumpled. The shades of dull gray of the disgraceful skies, monotonous suburb blocks, and blacktop roads merged into forest floors lined with mahogany brown trees instead of lampposts, with leave-carpet path and lush canopies; The air contaminated with a smoky-cigar murk.
He was back at the island.
Clumps of moss and jurassic ferns instantaneously burst into flames, spreading like literal wild fire as the canopy crackled into ash. An awakening familiar fear told him to run, being chafed from crackly branches and thorns. Instead of coal-black attire, he went back to his grimy cargo shorts with his belt hanging loosely; Instead of a man, he become a child again. The bouquet of flowers were wilted and yet was a spear at his hands. The blonde turned his head as a ululation echoed through the shrubbery of the woods, tumbling boulders down onto mother earth, a grasp of fire in their hands. The beast chased him once more, mocking that our man will be driven onto both ends of a stick. His legs screamed from the non-sense running, the pain swelling in his ankles. Breathing became ragged and labored as smoke seeped into the tube to his lungs. Savages came from all sides, flaring death threats and throwing their spears at the runner’s toes. Their leader, a red head who wore the remains of a black cap, smeared with streaks of red and white clay chased along side his horde of manipulated savages; A spear on his left hand, a pair of spectacles in the other.
The memory only presented purgatory, a deep meaning of distraught and repression. The blonde eyes start swelling again, an open cry escaped his lips as he ran. His foot twisted over a misplaced rock, toppling down onto the white sand and frantically staggering to his feet, the tension between craggy rocks left scabs of blood to dribble from his chest. Rocks, no thats not it, the ground felt more smoothing and—
The man in coal-black attire looked down to notice the polish pavement, the ravaged camellias and carnations were sprawled across from his hand, the end of his poise dress shoes hooked onto the leveraged part of the sidewalk. A gathering of distress mutuals helped the 27 year old bloke, the only respect back being a crinkled snort covered face and a thank you. The in coal-black attire peered up at the metal archway and walked into the foundation, its bended iron letters welcoming visitors to Brookland Cemetery. A crisp soft breeze carried the blonde's strand hairs with its current as the man in coal-black attire made his way along the craggy stone path. A crunch beneath heavy paced beat cracked upon snapping branches and crawling leaves as the man hustled with his polish dress shoes. He carried the remains of now tussled pink camellias and carnations in his hands that now held grief and sorrow. The man in coal-black attire clutched the flowers closer to his pulsating heart and began to grow somber as tears as the blood sloshed in the vessels of his heart. A familiar dismal taste wavered in the air with a pounding wave of depression knocking in as he was met with an old friend; The grave of Piggy.
The man kneeled to the gravestone in front of him, dusting off the wilted flowers and leaves from his last visit, placing down the newly bouquet.
“I hope you love these flowers I brought, sorry there a bit dirty—Rough morning, heh.” The man in coal-black attire softly chuckled.
After the naval officers finished the rescue and searched the island for remaining survivors, they managed to scrape up the bloated corpse of Piggy and trace his actual identities. His name was Oliver Pedersen. He was buried with his broken spectacles and fragments of the broken conch twisted into a small bottle.
“There camellias and carnations, especially pink ones—I know you wouldn't be able to be near flowers since of your asthma,” the man rambled once more.
“I miss you so, much..” The man in coal-black attire confessed, sending unspoken words with true feelings through his watering eyes.
“I can't stop thinking about you, or-r what happened all those years ago—”
The man in coal-black attire dusted off the dirt on the plate of the tombstone, revealing one sentence carved in that shattered his heart.
“I’m so sorr-ry..” Ralph clutched his chest as wrapped himself with both of his arms attempting to resemble Piggy’s grasp, as he wept, as said in the stone, for his true wise friend, Piggy.
-----------------This a LOFT Epilogue Assignment with Piggy x Ralph because why not (DONT NOT STEAL)
