The Lady and the Flies

Chapter 16

However, the dwindling numbers of their former tribe had not gone unnoticed, Clare thought as she lay beneath the cool shade of a shelter. The tension was thick and strenuous, causing only the slightly rifts amongst the few that remained. Some went about their daily duties as normal, others quietly bickered the contemplation of leaving. As a whole, the feathered picture was awfully awry.

Piggy lay beside Clare thumbing nervously at the wedged edge of his dirtied, white shirt. A thick amount of dirt accumulated on the soiled thing, but the boy refused to rid of it. As to why, nobody bothered to ask. There were few preferences that some children attempted to keep; some kept their socks, others refused to let go of their ragged caps, and in Clare's case, she tried her best to keep her face clean. At least then people could see her properly.

She felt Piggy fidgeting from beside her and lifted her head in slight amusement.

"Are you troubled?" she asked after a voluntary pause, watching as a smile played on the boy's face.

"I'm not," Piggy replied honestly. "But he is."

"I don't know." She knew she'd answered too hastily, for Piggy looked no more faithful than she in her sham. Swallowing, she pressed on. "I-I...he's just... stressed.

"I jus' always knew this was a bad place." Sincerity marked what little gloss of his eyes Clare could see. Piggy drew a breath and peeked back over at Ralph, shaking his head solemnly. "We just shouldn't do anything irrational, you know?"

"Irrational?" Clare's throat was dry. Piggy nodded.

"It's a bad place," he repeated. "It seems to turn all the darkness out from us. All of it." Piggy stared at his friend, hoping and wishing for all good and grace upon her. She was innocent. And she deserved to at least retain that. "I just don't want you to do anything that you might regret."

His words stung. They were grave and sickly infuriating, as if to accuse her of such vile things as-

No. Ralph and her were just friends.

She understood her friend, but her compliance was running thin. Already guilt was web upon her heart. She felt angered and somewhat humiliated, but of course Piggy wouldn't understand. No, no - she was making excuses again. As always.

"You're right," she said abruptly, turning away from Piggy. "And I promise that I won't do anything I regret, with anybody."

"Ralph's nice and the others well-"

Others!

"What are you trying to say?" She hadn't meant to snap, but Piggy was teetering on the edge of annoyance.

His eyes met her is a shadowed drear of muddled confusion before his lips fell into a frown. "Clare-"

"Forget it." The girl had already arisen, and with her had gone the blithe, light feeling of sincere childish wonder and the beauty of unconcerned impassion.

Piggy sat alone.

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"Where's Simon?"

Sunlight flitted and grazed the tips of knotted brown hair, illuminating the dirt that encased the majority of Clare's drawn face. The twins sat below her, drawing pictures in the muddy grit of wet sand, staring up at her in bafflement. It was a usual sight  for Clare to be so demanding or presumptuous, so there she stood, lips set in a thin line of disdain and eyes shadowed in the formidable tale of contempt.