Lord of the Flies~Journal Entry #7

Chapter: Murder
Ralph's Journal

When I was talking to Piggy today, we both agreed that we should go and check on what Jack's tribe was doing. So, we went to the feast, and we lost some more people from our tribe. We expected that would happen, but as long as we had each other, Samneric and some littluns we were fine. The feast tasted to good.
All of a sudden we saw a dark, corpulent figure immerse from the forest. For a brief second, I thought it was one of Jack's, trying to scare us. But, when Jack starting beating the thing, I realized who it was. That it was Simon. I wasn't sure however, so I got caught up in killing it and joined the circle. I made sure not to get too involved so that if it really was Simon I wouldn't feel so guilty afterwards. Once it was over and we returned home, I realized that it had to have been Simon. But how was I supposed to know?
I did know that it was Simon while I was killing it, and that's the part that was eating me from the inside out with guilt. I killed Simon. I tried to deny it, but it was murder, even though I don't believe in anything theological. Since we landed on this island, I didn't know it would end up like this. I kept trying to say I wasn't involved, but I didn't try to stop it, therefor I was involved. I was supposed to be the responsible leader, but what kind of a responsible leader was I being.
The guilt kept bothering me, but I started to try to focus more on the rescue and our future, rather than the murder and the past. That night, I heard something in the bushes. I couldn't tell what it was, but I assumed it was the beastie. He might have seen us thinking that Simon was him, and come back for revenge for all I knew. All of a sudden it was attacking. I got a good punch or two in, but I also took a few, including a very painful knee. The whole shelter fell down sometime during the short fight; exposing the phosphorescence of the bright moon overhead.
When the barmy fight was over, I knew who it was. It was them. Jack's tribe. I hoped that we wouldn't loose anymore people to them. Also, when it was over, we realized what they came there for, Piggy's glasses. No more fire, no more rescue. I would have to talk to Jack. Soon. Hope purged out of me and I felt anger. Not towards them, but for myself for not being responsible, and for techniacally committing murder. I would get those glasses back soon, no matter what it took. Nothing could be as painful as the guilt of comitting murder.