This story takes place after the boys get home. Because of what they have been through, they are required to go to a Psychiatrist. This is one one of Ralph's meetings with the Psychiatrist.

Ralph looks around nervously and shifts in his chair.

The Psychiatrist enters.

"Why hello Ralph. My name is Dr. Giratte." The Psychiatrist says kindly.

"H-hullo..." Ralph stutters.

"How are you today?"

"G-good." He's beginning to feel more comfortable in this environment, talking to this woman.

"Just good?" Dr. Giratte inquires, trying to get him to talk.

"Yeah..." He's slightly confused. What was she getting at?

The Psychiatrist nods and scribbles notes on a pad of paper she had brought in.

"So how does it feel to finally be home? I know you were on that island for quite some time." She continues with the questioning.

Ralph's eyes cloud over and he looks distracted. How does it feel to be home, to be safe in your own bed?

"Ralph?" She's perplexed by his reaction.

He snaps back to attention upon hearing his name.

"Sorry?" He asks.

"How does it feel to be back home?" She inquires again, more cautious of his reactions now.

She continues to write down notes an her pad of paper.

"Okay, I guess. It's kinda lonely without my dad at home, but it's nice to see my mom." He sounds wistful.

"Is that all?" She pokes and prods for more answers anything to help her come to a conclusion.

"Well, I finally got to take a bath. And... And my mom gave me a haircut yesterday." He lightly touches his hair, smiling slightly.

The Psychiatrist cocks her head a little in curiosity at his statements and then scribbles on her notepad again.

His thoughts have gone to a happy place, but it would be replaced with horrid thoughts soon. She hates having to do this.

She smiles at him. "That's delightful." She turns serious. "So how about we talk about your time on the island."

He looks away and worries his lip. The memory of the island was still so fresh, even though he wished it not to be. Why did she have to bring this up?

"The man who rescued said that you were upset. What was that about?" She was opening the partially healed wound.

"No! It was an.... an......... accident........" He doesn't want to think about it, but his mind forces him to.

He looks distracted, his eyes have a faraway look in them.

"I don't know..." He whispers in agony.

"Why Ralph, whatever do you mean? What happened?" This was an odd reaction.

"It doesn't matter! No one can save them!" The wound was hurting.

"It doesn't matter...." He whispers, on the verge of tears.

"You can tell me what happened. You won't get in trouble. No one will hurt you." She's using her kind voice now, trying to compel him into talking.

He hesitates. He doesn't want to. but it feels like he should. "Well...." He trails off. He's silent for a couple moments until the Psychiatrist prompts him.

"Go on, you can tell me."

The words start flowing out of his mouth. "It all happened so fast. They had voted me chief, but Jack wouldn't listen. He was so mean, so obsessed..... " He trails off again.

"Obsessed with what?" She eyes him carefully.

He gets a distant look. "Obsessed with killing pigs, at first. But then it got worse......"

The scratching of pen on paper was heard in the background.

"Jack made the tribe savage, turned them against me. I only wanted to be rescued. But they were so obsessed with killing... Simon..... Piggy...... " He shudders, the images to horrid. "It was my fault, too. I should have stopped them before it was too late. I shouldn't have joined into the dancing and singing. But... But I felt so free.... I..... I don't know what happened." The wound is bleeding.

It's silent for a few moments.

"What happened to..." She peers at her notepad. "Simon and Piggy?"

He shudders again. "They.... died."

"How?"

"They were murdered."

Her eyes widen and she gasps. "By who?"

"By... Jack's tribe." Who else did she think killed them?

Pen was put to paper.

"Really? A bunch of children murdered them?" Disbelief was present in her voice.

He looks suspicious. "Yeah? I'm telling you, they really killed them!" The wound is scabbing.

"Young man, are you telling me the truth?" She couldn't believe it.

He's suddenly angry. "I am! Won't you believe me?"

"Calm down! Please! I am only trying to figure this out!" His reaction surprises her yet again.

She writes furiously on her notepad.

He shuts his mouth and waits, wringing his hands in his lap.

She looks up from her notepad, slightly shaken. "So, you're telling me that a bunch of children killed, not one, but two other children?"

He puts his head in his hands and looks at the floor. "Yes, yes.... That's what I am telling you..." He's tired.

She eyes Ralph then sighs. "So you said that.... Jack turned the tribe against you?"

"Yea..."

"Ralph, did this Jack try and hurt you?"

"Yea, he ordered the others to burn the forest with me in it."

She sighs again. She thinks: 'His mental state seems unstable. He's going to need more psychiatric help... He seems to think that the other boys would honestly kill others and try to kill him.'

"You honestly don't believe me, do you?" There is a pleading look in his eyes. He wants her to believe him.

"To tell you the truth, I find it hard to believe that a bunch of boys around your age would kill anybody."

"They aren't boys anymore, they're savages!! They killed Piggy and Simon! Piggy..." Memories fill his head, memories he wants to go away.

"What about Piggy?"

He quietly says. "He was my best friend on the island. He was so smart, smarter than all of us. He stuck with me until the end. I tried to stand up for him. It should have been me... It should have....." He starts sobbing. The wound is torn open again.

She waits until he is done.

He quits sobbing and looks solemn. He wipes his eyes.

"So you were close to Piggy?" She wants to know more, but she's not sure she should push him this far.

"Yes..." He doesn't want to talk about this. The wound is left gaping.

"Hmmm...." She writes on her notepad. She eyes Ralph again and notices his solemn look. "Let's call it a day, shall we? We'll meet again next week, alright?"

He mumbles. "Sure." He gets up and walks away, dragging his feet. Where was his savior when he needed one?

A/N:Thank you for reading this. If you would like, please leave a review. This story originally was a play that a friend and I had created for a school project. She suggested that I put it here, on Fanfiction, and I agreed. I hope you enjoyed reading this and tell me what you think.

Constructive Critisism and (nice) reviews only, please. Anything else wil be ignored.