The next morning we started by collecting wood. Our wary expressions were the remains of the last night’s scene; the grief was there and couldn’t be ignored. Ralph spoke with a voice filled with sorrow as he commented that what happened last night had been a murder. Piggy was in denial, he said that Simon had brought it on himself, that it was something that could have been avoided is Simon hadn’t been wondering around the forest at night. I think that maybe he didn’t want to believe that the boys were capable of such malicious acts; sadly we knew deep inside that they were.
The fire was our priority and we tried to keep it going as well as we could. At night we were taking by surprise by and ambush of the masked savages, Sam got mixed up in between the darkness, but I managed to hit one of them and defend myself and got a lose tooth, Ralph smashed a mask pretty good before the savages fled and Piggy lost his glasses. We thought that they came for the conch, but Jack instead left with triumph and dangling the specs on one of his dirty hands.
When we thought that things couldn’t get any worse, it appears that it can. We didn’t have fire now, we had a broken tribe and one was now lifeless marble floating into the vast sea. Hopeless as we were, we were in desperate need for a plan.
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