Another Lord of the Flies fanfiction! :D Roger x Simon is my favourite ship! :D Just a quick baby fic because I've been writing in Filipino, I think my English is not practised very well. A rated M fic because... hehe, gay smut :D When was the last time I banged one? Oh well, enjoy?

Trauma

Roger's mind fleeted off to something deeper than mere mathematics sprawled on the chalkboard. The blackness was heavily dusted with white writings, but all he could see was redness. Red was all around him. Red walls, red tiles, red tables and red chairs.

Red people. They were painted red.

His pen was red, until he realised he was holding a stick. A long, sharp and pointy one. The texture felt familiar, as if his grip was simply ordinary, as if sticks were his favourite things in the world.

Screams banged the air. They were distant, but loud enough to understand the panic running in each high-pitched note. There was fear. And fear held the children's throats until their lungs burned with it.

His black locks danced in the air. With eyes shut, he tried to get the scene out of his head. "Push it back," he told himself. "Push it back, back, far away."

The crisp sound of running feet and fire melded into a cacophony. The shrill screams seemed to get louder. "Back!" Roger shouted, but the memory did not fade away.

Thump!

Blackness greeted him. He opened his eyes to see a half-naked boy, black hair down his shoulders and bright green eyes. The child smiled and ran off, disappearing in the deep green folds of the trees and creepers. He tried to run after the boy but claws held him back, heavy and draggy. They were long claws with pointed black nails, and it snatched him, only to throw him in a bottomless pit of more blackness.

"Mr. Elwin!"

The pale ceiling and a dangling florescent lamp welcomed him back to the real world. The cold tiles were beneath him, but these weren't the white tiles of the classroom- they were the checkered blue and white tiles of the corridors of the second flour. The diry walls of his classroom were gone and rows of florescent lights dangled above him. Now nothing was red.

Faces of people hovered. His vision started to become more lucid. They were ordinary-looking people, not a touch of red at all. Except for Jack Merridew's hair. But no one was painted red. No one was bathed in blood.

"Rog, you alright?" Jack reached out to help him sit up. But the raven retrieved his arm at the slight touch of physical contact. His friend shied away and gave a silent nod. "Can you stand up?"

The bodies that circled around Roger slowly backed away. He picked up the pen that sat beside him on the floor and stood up, wordlessly. On wobbly legs, he walked up to the classroom on the fourth floor.

The boy who fell of his chair and suddenly ran outside the room whilst bellowing something at the top of his lungs entered the room. As if nothing happened, he went back to his seat. The professor lowered her glasses and indifferently asked if he was fine. The boy lied and squirmed comfortably on the armchair.

Jack and a couple of his classmates entered and took their places. The old woman then proceeded in discussing Geometry. Shapes, angles, congruence, sides... terms jumbled all in his head. Roger couldn't understand something, but it was because he kept on hearing something besides the woman's voice. Someone was screaming his name in the distance.

Walter: Got plans to write short stories/ flash fiction to create a whole concept. I'll try to make it as short as possible, yet full with emotions? I'll also try to finish it ASAP because it's still Hell week for me and this is just me taking a nice break.