Jack

The creature stepped from mirage on to clear sand

The darkness was not all shadow but mostly clothing

Marching in step

Inside the floating cloak he was tall, thin, and bony

His face was crumpled and freckled,

Ugly without silliness

Out of this face stared two light blue eyes,

Eyes that in this frustration seemed bolting and nearly mad

His sinewy body held up a mask that drew their eyes and appalled them

The mask was a thing on its own, behind which Jack hid,

Liberated from shame and self-consciousness.

A thin wail out of the darkness rose, remote and unearthly

A thing, a dark thing, a beast, some sort of animal

His laughter became a bloodthirsty snarling

An inarticulate gibbering

If there’s a beast we’ll hunt it down! We’ll close in and beat and beat and beat-!

Bleeding and mad the hunters followed, wedded to her in lust,

Excited by the long chase and the dropped blood

The crowd surged after it, leapt on to the beast, screamed, struck, bit, tore.

There were no words, no movement, but the tearing of teeth and claws.

Kill the beast! Cut his throat! Spill his blood!

We are going to have fun on this island.

Understand? We are going to have fun on this island!

What are we? Humans? Or animals? Or savages?


Lines taken from William Golding's Lord of The Flies, pp 19-20,48, 64, 83, 91, 94, 135, 144, 153, 186