Primitive Impulse

Disclaimer: The Lord of the Flies belongs to William Golding, but of course, I'm sure you all knew that. (:

Chapter 1- Salty Tears

I felt a sudden sting quickly travel up the length of my pale arm, now marred with angry scratches, crusty with day-old scabs. It was met with a peculiar wetness that didn't belong within my dream. This quiet darkness was hardly worthy to be called a dream… more like an unadorned state of unconsciousness. The tranquility was watchful, almostwaiting for the chance to claim its cold eternity over my feeble frame. The iron-clad determination that I shared with my father rose up to confront this foreign proposal, snubbing the defeat of rest. It bellowed in my chest and rose to the small opening of my unmoving lips. It came out as a pathetic moan, but it was enough to be followed by the flutter of my eyes. Everything was blurry, but the colors were instantly recognizable as the sky.

The sky?

My mind raced at the mismatched information that collided within my head. My last memory was of the stuffy plane, of my uncomfortably scratchy wool dress, of my father's close colleague murmuring words of security to me as I rung my hands, and of the tumultuous horror that had ensued. I felt the same salty wetness from before now trail into my slightly open mouth. My enflamed arm was now engulfed with the assaulting sting as the wetness reached my side.

I felt all of my energy burn my body into instant action. The amount of energy that I had tried to muster up that would have normally been enough to spring my upper half upright, only allowed me to turn sideways, away from the torturously briny water. I felt my right side being pinned under my body and it sunk into wet sand. In a way, the coolness was nice, yet the graininess was unpleasant against my overly-sensitive wounds, causing some of the scabs to crack under the pressure.

The outlines of the world began to focus. I could now see trees. Though they were certainly nothing like the trees in England. They were strange in the way they twisted in growth. And their colors were more vibrant, wilder somehow. I felt a small bit of revulsion in the pit of my stomach. It was savage… untouched by the care of humanity. The sight caused me to raise myself up in alarm. I was quite weak despite the effort; I noted when my arms began to shake.

What is this place?

For a stimulating moment, I thought that I had died and gone to heaven. And yet, this place seemed far from what heaven would be like. I was also feeling pain up both my arms and a growing, throbbing pressure within my head. I knew that there was no pain in heaven. My silent elation at still being alive came to a stop when I reconsidered whether I really wanted to be alive in a place such as this. My lips quivered, as did the rest of my body.

I looked down at my trembling arms. They were tainted with multiple grazes and dark bruises. A couple of the deep ones were bleeding, though it seemed to be coming from the freshly fractured scabs from before.

Perhaps I have been laying here for awhile… The thought discomforted me greatly. My injuries were instantly forgotten as I thought of the others on the plane. Those boys in uniforms. And the grownups.

The idea sent volts of energy throughout the rest of my body. Surely I must not be the only survivor. I told this to myself mentally in order to keep my sanity. I knew that it was one of man's best assets; it was tied with logic and strategy. At the moment, however, I didn't feel particularly logical. I wildly clung to the prospect that I was not alone, despite that nothing else seemed to move around me. If I truly were alone, then perhaps my journey to heaven would come quicker than expected.

The blood rushed to my head a bit too quickly as I finally stood up. My surroundings seemed to sway dangerously as I attempted to focus on a particularly ugly tree in order to keep from mentally falling away.

My hand came up to gingerly inspect my forehead. I flinched slightly when my fingers probed a large swell just over my left eyebrow.

"Oh, just bloody great." I scowled. My father would have been ashamed by such language, but my duties to being a respectably young woman like my mother were definitely one of the farthest of my concerns at the moment.

I looked down at my soiled, torn dress. My sleeves received the most damage. They were practically torn to ribbons, which would explain the condition of my arms. A new wash of misery came over me when I realized at the beads of sweat mingled with grime crawling down my body. The air in this place was as thick as steam. It was a fact that I detested with a ferocity that I rarely publicized.

I vehemently pulled the thick dress over my head, leaving me in my significantly lighter under dress. The coolness was instant and wafted through the thin fabric, which also cooled my sour mood for the time being.

The torturous dress was tossed aside as I began to make my way towards the thicket of the vegetation. The mere presence of it was almost overwhelming.

I held my white-blonde locks away from my sweaty neck as I pondered for a moment. My normally wavy tresses were straightened by the heavy dampness of the air. I let it go and it dropped against my back. My thoughts never strayed from the thickness of the jungle as I started to walk along the tree line instead of plunging headfirst into the mass. It seemed like the smarter thing to do, rather than walking aimlessly in circles amongst the strange trees.

Perhaps my logic isn't as screwed up as the condition of my body at the moment.

At that moment, I gave a silent thanks to God for having my shoes in a more preferable condition than my late dress.

I walked closer to the line of foliage, using it as a guide, but also as a way for protection in case I decided to hide myself from something unpleasant coming my way.

The air seemed quiet, despite the breeze that cooled my sweating brow. It hung densely in the air, as if it had not the strength to rustle the thick leaves that hung from the large trees. I sighed, trying to ignore the slight tremble. I hated my fear. It was a trait that had been a constant companion for most of my life. If only my hatred for it would threaten its existence. I smiled briefly before a sudden noise met my ears.

I jumped and skittered towards the trees, as I felt the adrenaline pump through my veins. My suddenly alerted ears picked up on the noise again and my mind was startled when it had recognized it as human voices. My heart fluttered with anticipation and a short lived joy as I peeked through the leaves. The source of the noise had come from a pair of identical looking boys, rushing past my hidden spot towards the direction that I had originally been traveling in.

I couldn't catch their words, for they had run past me too quickly. Yet I wasn't about to let them out of my sight. Before my thoughts could catch up with my actions, I sprinted out from the bushes and began to run. I ran with all my strength, which wasn't that impressive at the moment. After about fifteen minutes of the run, my strength began to fail me and I slowed to a stop.

My breath was coming in short gasps. The incoming of the wet air seemed to torture my dry throat. Water sounded heavenly at the moment. My body reacted on impulse towards the thought of acquiring something to drink and I instantly looked towards the large body of water.

I remembered the agonizing sting that that water had forced my arm to endure before my awakening. My enthusiasm was immediately dampened, for I had also remembered the taste.

Salt water… it is most likely the sea. How stupid of me to think otherwise.

I then turned my attention to the wood once again. I reasoned that fresh water may be hidden within its wild depths, or at least I hoped that it was. My body found a small resort of strength to make it back to the tree line. With a deep breath of courage, I plunged in.

The wild life instantly came to life. The insects… the birds… even a stray wild pig ran past me. My skittish mind could care less at the moment, as my goal was only water.

In my feverish, mindless pursuit, I couldn't detect the strange way that the earth had slightly begun to mound beneath my feet. How it was soft, as if freshly dug. Before I could let out a more than a strangled squeal of fright, I had fallen into the hole. My fingers pulled a pile of recently torn branches and leaves to soon follow me down.

The feeling of the almost animalistic terror as I fell to the bottom was too much for my weakened state. Blackness clouded and finally shut out my vision before I hit the soft bottom where more of the freshly upturned earth had laid.

Had I been conscious for a moment longer, I would have detected the faint cries of triumph that echoed in the distance.

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A/N: Comments are welcome, but be nice as this is my very first fanfic. ;)