Simon: not the average choir boy

Lord of the Flies
William Goldberg

Simon is a member of the choir, the group of boys that have taken on the responsibility of hunters, but he stands out from the other boys in the choir, stands out from the other boys on the island. Most noticably, his physical attributes make him stand out from the rest, he is short, skinny, and faints often. However, Simon has a different mentality than the rest. He thinks things through, something that none of the other choir boys seem capable of. He notices things that no one else does, but most importantly, he is intelligent.

No one is perfect, and Simon has his flaw, his Achilles' heel: Simon is shy. He has trouble speaking in public and putting his opinion into words. He knows what Jack is thinking because he has spent time with him, and knows him,knows what he is capable of, knows what he will do.

Simon changed since the beginning of the novel, he has become stronger, but at the same time he has withdrawn. He no longer faints, but he is scared to say what he knows is right. He also changed loyalties, from an uncomplaining choir boy, to on of the few trying to keep everone alive. Simon's role in the story is the boy on the sidelines who must come and stop chaos from ruling, he will be the one who will finally stand up to jack, because he knows that he has to, but he must over come that Achilles' heel first

Fishing Failure

I sat in the car: sleeping, or at least wishing I could. The car bumped along the curved, rocky road, my head banged against the window, I kept my eyes closed, trying to make up for the fact that I woke up two hours earlier than I normally would have. Our automobile, our horseless carriage felt like it was being pulled by a team of badly trained horses. We finally came to a stop. I opened my eyes and rubbed my head: we were there. I opened the door and brought our fishing gear down the ramp. I grabbed poles, lures, snacks and drinks. I grabbed gasoline, glasses, ice chests, and hats. I got ready for a day of fun, a day of catch after catch, a day well spent.

“Get the stuff in the boat,” My dad told me as he hopped into the car, “I'm gonna go park this, then I'll be back. I obeyed, grabbing a bucket of lures, a fishing pole, and a couple of life jackets.

"This is going to be fun," I thought, " I hope I can catch the biggest fish." I hopped in the boat and waited for everyone else to get in. We were off!

The choppy water bounced our small boat like a basketball on a trampoline, but we moved forward, trolling, or letting the line drift behind us while the boat was moving. I held the pole between my legs anticipating a strike. None came. After twenty minutes, my dad said, "Reel it in, let's try another lure." He pulled out a pink striped lure and put it on my pole. I let it drift behind the boat.

"Come on," I thought, " Take the bait. " They didn't.

My dad spoke again,"Let's try a different lure." He picked out a bright green one. I let the line drift.

"Hey Dad," I said, trying to break the silence, "Would you rather sky-dive or hang-glide?"

"Sky dive, Hang gliding kind of scares me."

"You're not afraid of jumping out of a plane, but you're scared of running off a cliff attached to giant wings? I'd rather hang-glide," I responded, "How about para-sailing? Or how about wind-surfing?"

"I don't know."

We continued fishing, switching our lures every twenty minutes. We caught nothing, but we had fun. I realized that I have more fun spending time with my dad than actually acomplishing what we set out to do.

Until the End

"It's over, no longer, I feel it growing colder, I knew this day would come to end"
Breaking Benjamin: Until the End

Vacation is coming to an end, it closes in like the walls of a trash compactor, the timer is ticking, I find myself trying to fit as much as possible into the last few days. I find myself dreading returning to my normal routine. I dread when I'll be able to say, "It's over, no longer."

Christmas

Christmas was different. It was a white Christmas, but it was like ninety degrees outside. It was a white Christmas if and only if you consider that dirty mix of white and black sand "white". Still, it was unique: you never truly know someone until you've spent a week with them in a small room. Spending a week with my friends was torture. It's not like I hated anyone, they just get on your nerves when you're around them 24/7. Still Christmas was fun

BOOM

That's the sound I'm gonna hear all night long tomorrow. Hopefully we leave without making a crater or killing anyone, but those can be considered acceptable losses. What's not dangerous about letting off over three hundred bucks worth of fire works? I'll need a hearing aid come new year's. All I'm gonna do is light stuff and run. You would too if you had the equivalent to a quarter-stick of dynamite in front of you. If all that was between you and an explosion of epic proportions was a short fuse, a few seconds, and hopefully, a few hundred feet. Hopefully I go home with all twenty digits. If you happen to see a big flash of light, and you're within a five mile radius of me, you'll know its midnight