Untouched Serenity ~Simon's Journal~ Ch.5

I sit in solitude at the corner of the platform. I watch the littluns’ scramble towards the grass. They appear to be running from something that I cannot see. Perhaps they are running from the haunting of their once angelic lives. I am overwhelmed by the muttering of the boys and curl myself into a ball of perpetual protection. Ralph appears out of the darkness with a stern face. His voice echoes through the midnight breeze. He tells of our mistakes and the way we mistreat the little that we have. My mind wanders easily, carried away towards the calm waters. A ripple glides across the waters edge and the moonlight shimmers as if it were about to drip on me straight from the horizon. I wondered about my secret place. I thought about every flower resting there at this very moment. I remembered the way the vines would tangle with my limbs as if trying to greet me, hug me. It was the only bit of serenity left on the island that hadn’t been destroyed by these boys.

Suddenly, the wails of a young boy filter through the spaces in the canopy. Every limb of his body contracted to a strange form. He was homesick. The word beastie slipped out of his chapped lips and whispers traveled like bullets. The boy claims he saw it, lurking at night. Perhaps it lived in the ocean.

Then I spoke. I did not say there wasn’t a beastie, as Ralph had expected. My lips would not tell lies. Honestly, I felt the spirit of a strange creature was more than possible. At the climax of the conversation, they were speaking of motion in the vines the night before. I don’t believe this is what we should be discussing at black hours with the littluns’. To save the tears, I stand before everybody and admit to wandering the forest that night. They asked where I went. I did not say much, only that it was a place I have been before.

Ralph pulled me aside. Perhaps he wishes to discipline me about my wrongdoing. He says I should never step foot in the forest after sunset because it will frighten the younger children. But what does he know about that? Is that what we will preach after killing one in his own fire? But, I do not speak. Thoughts and emotions are simply personal. I will continue venturing to my place because it’s the only place I find a peaceful state of mind. He has no idea what I’m going through. I’m here to help but my emotions are stirring inside.