Journal #8

Chapters 11 and 12: ...

Piggy

Words cannot express my numbness from the past 24 hours. I'm not going to hide the truth. The journal you are reading is that of a dead man. At the moment I'm not even sure how my ethereal self is able to write this. Alright I realize this journal is starting to make as much sense as the past 24 hours so I'll explain what happened. "You were supposed to be the intelligence of this group, the lone voice of reason replacing their absent conscience. And now look what you've done, they've all fallen apart into savages and you've even bloody broken your specs." Auntie tells me. Suddenly she starts fading away, her sternness never departing from her expression. "Don't leave me Auntie!" I cried. I sat up suddenly, realizing I was having a nightmare. As much of a nightmare this island was itself, I wish I could see. See the barren never ending horizon, see the vibrant hues of the sun rising unopposed by the gray dim clouds. But I doubt I'll ever see again. Yes, I'm afraid my sight has come to a cessation I told myself. It was depressing but true. I felt like yelling an ululation, one that would go past this puny island and be free, free to stretch across to the heavens. Too bad I can't scream that loud. I sit miserably and wait, until eventually Ralph wakes up. He calls a meeting. "We're going down to Castle Rock boys"