Ralph sighs as he looks up at the ceiling of his hospital room after doctors had come in and wrapped new bandages around his abdomen, covering the scar from his stomach to his chest from Jack’s spear on the island. His hair had also just been cut for the first time since the plane had crashed, which he occasionally touched with his fingers; however, this seemed more like a nervous tick than casual movement.

Now that Ralph was back home, he somehow had assumed things would be back to how they used to- he couldn’t have been more wrong. He had the urge to break down anytime he saw anything that reminded him of Simon or Piggy. He couldn’t face any of the boys who were also admitted to the hospital without feeling the immense anxiety that also prevented him from sleeping. They gave him the irrational fear that someone would beat down the door of his room if they didn’t light it on fire first. He was exhausted, but the thought of sleeping sent more adrenaline through his body.

“Ugh…” Being reminded of this, Ralph shifted to the side of the bed, facing the window and getting caught in a daze. Clouds reminded him of smoke.

Suddenly, he heard a knock on the door.