Abele 4

Emily Abele

Doeblin

English 10H

1.11.2009

Silence and the Sea

Ralph tossed and turned, pulling the coarse blanket closer around his small frame. The cruiser rocked gently, happily bobbing along with the waves, but even this could not lull the tired boy into slumber. Inside his little room, pipes creaked and droned, the footsteps outside magnified in the darkness of his bunk.

He itched at the heavy clothes one of the officers had given him to sleep in. The garments were scratching his sun-tanned skin, skin that had become so unused to the feeling of proper clothes. The bed springs protested with another groan when Ralph decided it was time to roll over again. He lay there for a moment, mind wandering where it should not. Ralph closed his eyes and let his thoughts take recognizable shape.

"You'll get back alright. I think so, anyway." Simon's lopsided grin and happy look melded seamlessly into a roaring fire, ringed by miniature, dancing savages. "Kill the beast! Cut his throat! Spill his blood!" The chanting played over and over again in his head, rising in an overwhelming crescendo. Ralph felt tears sting his eyes, his head pounding in time to the chant as he desperately covered his ears.

It was no use. Ralph curled in on himself, trying to disappear under the heavy blanket as the voices surrounded him. He was alone, completely and utterly alone in his dark hole with the savage chanting and haunting images of the island. The fair boy laid by himself, trapped within his own memories and thoughts, his pitiful whimpers going unheard.

A weighty thud sounded from outside his door, pulling Ralph back from the pain and guilt. He lay very still as the door creaked open, just wide enough for two small, dark forms to slip in like shadows, soundless and weightless. His entire body tingled in fear and he knew the shadows could smell it, the reeking stench of fright.

One of the shadows pulled out a glinting knife, silent and deadly, like the smile that flitted across the dark face.

"I'm going to finish exactly what I started, Ralph," Jack's voice slid over him, enveloping him like the omnipresent darkness in his mind.

A harsh laugh from the other shadow made it recognizable as Roger. Jack held up a hand, effectively silencing him and Roger both. "You should have realized that this would happen. Sooner or later, I was going to get you." A crazed giggle escaped from Jack's chapped lips. "You're the only one left! Piggy and Simon are gone, it's just you, just you!"

Roger grabbed Ralph's wrist and twisted his arm behind his back, eliciting a strangled cry from his captive. Jack's smile loomed above, a taunting reminder of Ralph's compromised position. "Bring him outside, to the bow of the ship." The red-haired boy stepped silently out into the hall, followed closely by captor and captive.

No one was out of doors at this hour, Ralph noticed, finding it strange that he could think of such things at a time like this. The only noises now were the serene lapping of the waves and the crisp tapping of Jack's feet on the boards. The shuffling pace of Ralph and Roger were almost nonexistent.

The bow of the ship loomed before them, a hulking shape in the darkness. A particularly large wave upset the rhythm of the cruiser and Ralph stumbled, noticing quite clearly that Jack tripped as well.

"So this isn't a dream." Ralph said this more to himself than anyone else, but Jack heard him.

"What was that?" Jack flared with anger.

"This isn't a dream, or else you wouldn't have tripped."

"What does that have to do with anything?" The other boy's hands rested on his hips in a childlike display of inference.

Ralph looked up as much as he could from underneath Roger's grip. "You're human."

This simple statement caused Jack's anger to peak. He lashed out at Ralph, landing a hard punch into the fair boy's stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Ralph hung his blonde head, defeated and dejected. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jack's hands grip the knife tighter and tighter, his tanned knuckles turning white and almost ghostly in the night.

Cold metal pressed against the hollow of his throat, making a line of crimson blood appear on the sun-browned skin. Slowly, ever so slowly, Ralph looked down at the very tip of the knife and saw his blood gathering at the point, threatening to drip and splatter on the pristine deck.

"Caught you, Ralph," Jack whispered. "I am more than human. And I won."

The knife flashed in the gray light of dawn and Jack heaved the body overboard, into the rolling sea and watched it sink down until it was no longer visible, having sunk so far into the depths that there was not even a trace of blood on the pale water.

He looked at the knife, the bloodied piece of metal in his hand. Casually, he tossed it over the side of the cruiser and began to walk back to his bunk.

It was over.

He had finally won.