15. (a retelling of chapter eight from Simon's point of veiw)

Today just took the terrible events of days past and magnified them to the point of no return.  The island is becoming less and less friendly, and the tension between Jack and Ralph has reached the point of utter and complete turmoil.  It doesn't even matter what I say anymore, because nobody will listen to me, and Jack's practically out of his mind now anyways.  Today started with tension and fear, just like all of our other days lately, as we had just returned from our hunt from the beast.  We met back with Piggy to talk about our future (although I'm starting to think our future might be in serious jeopardy).  It really is looking bleak, I'll say, and that seemed to be the general conclusion drawn by Jack and Ralph back at camp.  They were having a conversation about how we should react, knowing what we now know about the beast, when Ralph made a bit of a  rude comment about Jack's hunters.  Knowing Jack the way I do, that was the last thing Ralph wanted to do.  Predictably, Jack threw a fit, and actually stormed off into the woods to start his own band of blood-driven savages.  Don't ask me where that's gonna go, other than downhill.  After the assembly, the pressure just started to get to me, and I knew I needed to take a moment in my spot.  It's always been such a safe haven for me, you know?  Just a place to get away from it all.  Sometimes I really need it, too, and today was one of those times.  However, when I got to my spot, rather than the usual majesty of nature, I discovered a truly horrifying severed pig's head which had been driven into the ground with a double-ended spear.  I went into a state of hysteria, and I started thinking about our future, and the beast, and how we're going to recover whatever is left of our society, and then I knew I was going down.  The last thing I remember was the world just going black.