It’s been years on this Island. Any semblance of humanity stripped away by the ferocity that infested this island. That infested their souls. Perhaps Simon was onto something. Maybe, just maybe, there was no beast—maybe, it was only them.

The boys did everything the adults would. Tried to build a society, create the pillars of rules to live by, the Conch equaled control, the fire equaled safety.

Ralph was still the leader, somewhat. He tried his best, attempted to maintain control or at the very least a facade of it. Simon was the sense of morality, keeping others sane when he himself could feel his own sanity slipping away. Jack was the sense of fighting, giving the littluns a sense of safety, support. Piggy, although shunned by most of the island’s inhabitants, still remained the smarts that kept the island running.

You walked along the path Sam n’ Eric had dug out with the help of some littleuns. Canopies of lush greenery hung over the sky, gaps between leaves allowed streams of sunlight to peer through, speckling across your skin. You were going through the motions. Sweat-doused skin that was clung to by unforgiving granuals of sand—was something you’ve accepted as unavoidable.

Somewhere beyond amongst the thick trunks of tropical forest, you could hear the shrill cries of the group of hunters, careening along the edge of savagery as they indulged in the pursuit of meat. “Kill the pig, cut its throat, spill its blood—“ You hear Jack start that accursed chant that haunted your conscience.

Jack was probably at the forefront of the clan. At the edge of the forestry you could see Simon sitting under the sliver of shade a jutting out frond provided him. Ralph and Piggy were standing on the flat of a rock decorating the shore, discussing something in depth. Probably about how pissy Jack has been as of late, and how to avoid an eventual divide.

Years on this island have given you and the others a rhythm to fall into. The littluns had their own rhythm as well. Able to be corralled like cattle, to help out for ultimately, everyone’s survival.

You can only hope you survive more than physically, that perhaps your humanity may be preserved as well. Because, yes, you all were humans, but no, you couldn’t say for sure whether you were humane.