Creative Writing: Prequel

Before the Flies

Sarah Doughty (2025)

Ralph

“Ralph! Wake up, come eat breakfast!” The shout from downstairs awakens a young boy from his dream. Groggily, he blinks as the dream fades. Something about a dragon? He shakes sleep away and rolls out of bed, feet landing softly on the carpeted floor. “Ralph! Now!” she yells again. 

“Coming, coming! Relax,” he yawns, stretches, and heads downstairs. 

The news is on the television in the corner, reporting on some supposed UFO sightings. “These people are crazy,” Ralph’s father murmurs into his cup of coffee. “Absolutely insane. UFOs! Ha! They should get a job and do something that helps society.” 

Ralph walks past his father, who fluffs his paper in indignation at the TV, and sits at the table while his mom makes him a plate. 

“Honey! You’re not dressed yet! Eat up and put your uniform on. I want you to look sharp for your first day,” his mom scolds. Ralph groans, stuffs his mouth full of food, and gets up from the table to obey. “Don’t forget to brush your hair, too!” she shouts as he hops up the stairs. 

When Ralph, gussied up in his new uniform, comes back down the stairs, he sees his father packing up to go. “Dad!” he calls, desperate. 

His father turns, impatient. “I need to go, Ralph. A weird missile thing has triggered the radars off the coast. I don’t have time to waste!”

“Sorry, sir,” Ralph whispers, ashamed, “I just wanted to say goodbye.”

His father sighs, “You be good, today, son. I expect nothing but the best from my son.” Ralph straightens up and nods, but the Navy commander is already gone. 

Jack

“WAKE UP, SUNSHINE!” the voice screeches right next to Jack's ear. 

“Ahhh!” Jack jerks awake as his brothers dissolve in a fit of cruel laughter. “Get out! Get out!” Jack howls. The trio of boys pull themselves together long enough to stumble, shove, and exit from the room, but their residual laughter can still be heard through the walls. 

Jack gets out of bed and begins to dress. School has been in session for all of a week, and already his brothers are ruining it. All four of the Merridew children attend St. Joseph Boys School, and so far, Jack’s eldest siblings have made school a constant struggle with their endless pranks. 

On the first day, they cut the straps on his knapsack, so when he tried to grab his bag, all his stuff fell out, and he was late. Next, they tied his shoelaces to his chair during lunch break, and he looked like a fool, flopping around in the middle of the cafeteria! Yesterday was the worst, though. Jack had been auditioning for the choir, one of his favorite extracurriculars, and his stupid siblings switched his music, so he had to stand on stage and fix it while the Director watched! Fortunately, he still managed to retain his title as chapter chorister; no one else can sing a high C as well as him. His belongings keep disappearing, too, and, though he can’t prove it yet, he knows those beasts are behind it. They always mess everything up! One would think since there were four of them, the teasing would be evenly spread, but no, it all falls to him! Jack can’t really blame the middle two, Daniel and James. James is occasionally decent when the others aren’t around, and Danny is just too dumb to think for himself. The real villain is Thomas. He masterminds every scheme, and the others are just goons doing his bidding. Oh, how Jack envies him! Thomas has so much power! Once he goes off to college, there will be no one stopping Jack from taking his place, and then Jack will have the life he so desperately craves. 

For now, though, Jack must settle for searching every cabinet for his stolen toothbrush, while his brothers eat all the pancakes. Someday, he tells himself, someday…

Ralph

His mom drops him off at the front of the building, but Ralph, hesitant, stays in the car. “Hey, Sweetie, you’re going to do so well today,” his mom says with a smile. “You’re going to make so many new friends!”

Ralph looks at his mother, “Are aliens real?” he asks, curious. His father would beat him senseless for this kind of crazy talk, but his mom just smiles and shakes her head.

“Have fun at school, love.” she plants a kiss on his forehead and whispers, “Please behave, okay? No head standing.” Ralph grins, hops out of the car, and promptly flips upside down onto his noggin, giggling the whole time. “Ralph!” his mom scolds. Ralph stands upright, waves goodbye, and flees into the school building. 

Once inside, he is greeted by dozens of sweater-clad children. Ralph pushes his way through the throngs of students and heads to his first class. On his way, he hears students gossiping about war and the rumored fighting that's happening between Britain and an unknown enemy. Bunch of crazies, Ralph thinks to himself. His father would have known if a fight was afoot. 

The day goes by as expected: classes are boring, potential new friends are met, and Ralph is pretty happy with his new school. He’s just sitting down for lunch, chatting with a kid from his math class, when the staticky intercom crackles to life. “Ralph Wiggin, please report to the main office. Ralph Wiggin to the main office!” A chorus of oohs arises from the table of schoolboys as Ralph quickly packs up his lunch, only to realize he doesn’t have a clue where the main office is. He stands for a second next to the table before a boy– possibly named William– catches on, and gives Ralph directions.

The walk to the office is long and quiet. Every hallway is deserted, and Ralph's palms begin to sweat as he imagines the trouble he’ll be in when his father finds out he was called to the office on the first day. But… I haven’t done anything wrong! No, that can’t be true. He must’ve done something out of line to warrant a summons from the principal. Frantically, Ralph wracks his brain, trying to find a fault in his behavior. Was I joking around too much? Did I get a really poor grade? Ralph doesn’t know, but it’s too late now because he’s arrived at the office. After a deep breath, Ralph lays a hand on the knob and turns.

Jack

School is a total waste of time for Jack. He sits and listens while an old teacher drones on and on about a history long forgotten, and spouts about complex math subjects that nobody will ever use, while his brain daydreams about revenge pranks and choir practice. 

When the bell finally rings, he leaps from his seat and takes off down the hall to the music wing. Choir is the only aspect of his life Jack has real power in. His singing is the best, and all the boys listen to him. With this power, Jack makes sure his choir is the best and most organized group in all of Britain! 

They’ve been together for quite some time, and, since their group was nominated for some prestigious award, they’ve gotten to go all over Europe, performing in front of hundreds of people. And Jack, as a head boy for his grade and the chapter chorister, got to have solos! Jack marched with his head high and posture perfect into the music room where his followers awaited. Instead of the usual chatter and joyous atmosphere, Jack is surrounded by a somber, heavy feel in the air. “What’s wrong with you all?” he asks, put off by their mood. The boys look at him and move aside so one child is pushed towards the front of the pack. “Simon? What have you been saying now?” 

The smaller boy, thin and frail, says, “There is danger! We need to get out of here!”

Jack stares at Simon for a beat, then throws his head back and laughs. “Shut up, Simon! Danger, ha! You’re crazy as a loon, and we all know it, right guys?” The group joins in on the laughter, remembering now how batty Simon is, and the fear is momentarily forgotten. 

They make it not three minutes into rehearsal when a woman pops her head through the door. “Sorry to bother you all,” she begins, “but you’re needed in the office.”

The boys look at Jack. Relishing the control he has, Jack straightens up and says, “Well, we’d better follow her.” He struts out the door and saunters down the hall with his disciples in tow. 

Oddly enough, when they arrive at the office, Roger, a tenor in the choir who Jack thought was sick today, is standing there next to a large, older version of himself. Roger resembled the man in the color of his eyes and the shape of his face, but the most prominent similarity was their aura of intensity and mystery. Jack deduced that the two were related, most likely father and son. 

“Hi, guys. We have to go,” Roger says, interrupting Jack’s internal analysis. 

Jack, confused, holds up a hand, “I’m sorry, what did you say was going on?” 

The large man clears his throat, “I apologize. I’m Major Johnson. An unprecedented event has occurred, and we must evacuate you all immediately. We have enough room for about a dozen of you, and Roger decided you were his choice of companions.”

A long silence engulfs the room as everyone processes this shocking turn of events. “What’s the emergency?” Maurice, a tall, broad-shouldered choir boy, chimes in from the back. A buzz of questions accompanies this inquiry. 

“I’m afraid we don’t have the time, or safety to delve into the details, right now,” Major Johnson says, “So, are you coming or not?”

Jack was ready to dive head first into this adventure, but a little voice inside begged him to stop and think about the consequences. He has very little information to work with, and that in itself is a concern. If he agrees, he’d also be heading into this situation forced to trust this tall military man with his life. Does he want that? Not really, but if there really is great danger, he has a chance to escape and save himself. Another added bonus: he gets to leave his awful brothers and this awful life behind! 

Confidently, Jack says, “I’m in.”

Once Jack throws his name in the barrel, most of the choir follow suit, deciding to trust Roger's father without much thought. Those who don’t agree stand off to the side, looking doubtful and nervous. Jack glances briefly in their general direction and decides none of them are worth bringing anyways. 

The military man strides out of the room, leaving the boys scrambling to follow in his wake. He leads them down corridor after corridor at a brisk walk, forcing some of the more vertically challenged boys to hasten their pace. 

At last, he ushers them out a side exit where a huge armored truck sits parked at the curb. Roger’s father seems more agitated now, and he keeps checking his watch. “Move, move, move,” he grunts under his breath. 

Jack clambers into the spacious vehicle, and watches as the thick, metal door slams shut, sealing them in. 

Ralph

The office is empty, save for one man with excellent posture and a crisp uniform, staring out the window. “Father?” Ralph asked incredulously. 

“Ah, Ralph, come, we need to leave,” the Navy Commander spins Ralph around with a hand on his shoulder and shoves him towards the door a little too roughly. 

“Father–” Ralph starts.

“We can talk in the car; we don’t have time to chit chat, Ralph,” His father’s voice ends in a note of panic that makes Ralph freeze.

“What is going on?” he demands. Now that they are standing face to face, Ralph can see the unkept state his father is in. His hair is disheveled, like he’s run his hands through it one too many times; his normally spotless uniform has a coffee stain on the collar, and part of his shirt is untucked. The scariest part is the panicked look in his eyes, like a dog, forced into a corner. This is not Ralph’s father, the man who always saved the day and has total control over every situation. This man is scared. Really scared. 

“Ralph, please, we have to go!” his fearful father begs.

The pleading tone shocks Ralph so much that he relents and follows his dad as the words sink in. The sound of a car door closing brings him back, and he watches his father slide in the seat beside him. “What’s going on? You– you say begging is for weak people,” Ralph whispers somberly as the car peels out of the lot. 

After an eternity, Ralph’s father clears his throat and speaks, “You’re right. I’m sorry, Ralph. I need to get a hold of myself.”

Ralph ponders this while his father sits straighter and tidies himself, finger-combing his hair and re-tucking in his shirt. Something bad has happened, Ralph thinks, something really bad. 

“Okay, Ralph, let me explain,” his father begins. “Everything will work itself out in the end, but right now, things aren’t safe for young boys like yourself. My superior officers have been made aware of a threat that must be dealt with. For this reason, we’re at risk of going to war. All children under the age of sixteen are being taken to a safe place. No exceptions. Do you understand, Ralph? You are going to have to be strong.”

Ralph takes a long time to absorb that new information. “But what is the threat?”

“We’ll arrive soon, just stay by my side,” Ralph’s father replies, deflecting the question.

Ralph gives up the interrogation, for he’s not actually worried. He pictures this as a short vacation with his new friends while his dad fixes whatever is wrong. Fun and games await! 

Commander Wiggin parks the car, puts on the final touches of his uniform, and turns to Ralph. “Alright, follow me.”

Ralph hops out of the car and rushes to catch up to his father, who has already begun to stride away. When he catches up, the commander glances down and reprimands Ralph for his poor posture. Ralph’s spine snaps up into a more worthy position, and the two enter the building, Father in the lead. 

The building is huge. Warehouse-sized and filled to the brim with people talking all at once. One garage door is open on the side, looking out onto an airfield full of small passenger planes. Already, an endless line snakes out from each plane as people desperately try to get their kids to safety.

“FORM EVEN LINES! NO SHOVING! NO SHOVING! GIRLS ON ONE PLANE, BOYS ON ANOTHER! IF YOUR KID IS IN THE WRONG LINE, THEY DON'T GET ON!” A large man in a uniform is perched on a wooden crate, screaming into the megaphone in his hand. “ONLY MILITARY CHILDREN! IF YOU DON’T HAVE CREDENTIALS, NO ENTRY!” The man’s speech goes on for some time– no shoving, higher ranks mean higher priority, no shoving– but Ralph isn’t listening anymore. His father grips his arm and drags him towards the correct line. 

Kneeling down, Commander Wiggin stares into his son’s eyes, “Ralph, I–” he falters. “Ralph, I’ll keep you safe, okay? Whatever happens, I’ll always protect you.” He looks like he wanted to say more, but he doesn’t. Instead, he stands up and pats Ralph on the back. 

Ralph stares up at his father, the strong, confident, charming military commander, in admiration, believing every word he says. Even if the world ended tomorrow, it would be worth it just to hear his dad speak those words. 

Jack

The car door cuts off all outside sounds, and silence fills the cabin. Jack looks from face to face. They sit, pale with fear, and Jack realizes this is his chance. He’s waited his whole life for a chance to take charge. Here it is sitting right in front of him! Now is his opportunity to twist this mess into a situation that makes him look like a hero! He’ll make them forget that it was Roger who saved them and have them kissing the ground he walks on!

Invigorated by his genius plan, Jack cleared his throat. The boys jump, startled, but Jack ignores this and goes ahead with his speech. “Look, guys, I know these circumstances aren’t ideal,” Jack figured it’d be best to sound smart and use sophisticated words, “but don’t worry, I will take these new responsibilities in stride! As Head Boy Chapter Chorister I, Jack Merridew, will lead you into the unknown and keep us all safe!” 

The boys stare, silent, and a blush begins to blossom across Jack’s cheeks. He expected applause or at least some kind of support and encouragement for his great declaration. Jack’s about to try again, thinking maybe they all had a temporary lapse in hearing, when Bill, a backup singer, speaks up. “Uh, Jack, shouldn’t Roger lead? He did save us, right?”

Jack glares daggers at the kid who threatens his opportunity to hold all the power. “Roger isn’t a leader,” Jack seethes. “I am. I can sing a high C, and I have been the leader for years! I will do a much better job, right, Roger?” Jack says, turning to the boy, “I’m still in charge, right?” Jack needs the power, craves control. If Roger doesn’t respond the correct way, Jack is going to have to prove he is the one in charge, and it won’t be pretty. 

Fortunately, Roger just nods. His eyes burn with an inner intensity, but Jack disregards this, for he got the answer he wanted. “See? It’s settled, I'm the leader.” Satisfied, Jack starts to relax. He’s in charge now. He won’t get bullied by his brothers, or anyone else, from now on. 

Jack sits there in the rumbling military vehicle, musing about how great it would be to be a king, when he suddenly has an idea. “All great leaders have titles, so from now on, call me Head Merridew, or just Merridew for short, okay?” The boys shrug, used to Jack’s fanciful dreams of royalty. 

They sit in silence for a while, each child lost in their own thoughts. When the constant rumble of the engine begins to lessen, all the boys snap to attention, anxious. The engine dies, and quiet descends. 

“Jack?” Maurice asks, breaking the silence. Jack turns and glares at him. The younger boy corrects himself, “I-I mean, Merridew, what do we do now?”

“Well, now, we go.” Jack stands up to the best of his ability, and shifts towards the door. Right as he makes it to the door, it pops open, and Jack is met with the older version of Roger. 

“Come on, boys! We’re almost too late! They’re nearly finished admitting kids!” The boys scramble out of the armoured car and leap down on the sidewalk. Together, the group hustles up the walk. 

Ahead, a young military man begins to close the warehouse door. “Wait!” Roger’s dad bellows. “Wait!” The young man looks up and hesitates. Jack can tell by the conflicted look in his eyes that the man isn’t supposed to let any more people in. “Please,” Roger’s father says, slowing as he approaches the man, “you have to take my son.” He lowers his voice as he continues his plea, but Jack gets the gist. Roger’s father is begging the man to let the boys in, or maybe just Roger, but Jack really hopes that's not the case. The young soldier is refusing, probably because his boss wouldn’t allow it or something like that. 

Roger’s dad is pulling out a wallet, now, resorting to bribery. The young man looks up towards the sky as if asking it what to do. He shakes his head. I guess that's a no to the bribe, thinks Jack. The man is slowly retreating into the building, and Roger’s father can tell he's getting more agitated and desperate. 

Jack’s about to cut his losses and see if he can break in, when something Roger’s dad says causes the man to freeze. All the boys hold their breath, awaiting the final decision. Finally, the man nods. Roger’s father breaks into a grin and claps the man on the back. The soldier doesn’t seem proud of his decision, but he steps aside to let the group through. Jack walks briskly to the front, strutting like the leader he is. Naturally, the choir falls into formation behind him, as if they were going to perform.

The young man seals the door behind them, preventing anyone else from being allowed access. For some reason, this thought brings a smirk to Jack’s lips. With arms crossed in front of his chest, Jack surveys the room. It’s a huge building, with high ceilings and giant bay doors, looking out upon a private airfield. Hundreds of people mill about the room, but every adult is uniformed in military colors. There is a noticeable age gap between the kids and the adults, too. The oldest Jack can see is about sixteen, maybe seventeen, and the youngest children are infants, being handed away to board a plane. A man stands in the center, on a platform shouting inaudibly into a megaphone, trying to organize the people around him. 

Looking back, Jack sees the group he arrived with is hovering at the edge of the room. Roger and his dad are having a discussion in the corner of the room. Jack assumes it’s a tearful goodbye or some wise departing words. He doesn't really care, but their conversation looks serious, so that gives him time to explore. 

He strolls towards the open doors to stare out at the planes. The wind blows, picking up some loose leaves and throwing them about. The air is full of tension, like before a storm, but that does not deter any of the workers from prepping their vehicles for flight. 

Most of the airplanes have long lines snaking out, but a few are sealed up and beginning to depart. Jack watches as one drives down the runway, picking up speed. Going faster and faster, until the wheels leave the ground and the plane rises into the air. He stands a moment longer, tracking the plane until it winks out of sight into the building clouds. Then, without moving, he tunes into the conversations around him. Someone has to know what's going on, thinks Jack, because it’s obvious that Roger’s dad doesn't really know. 

People around him chatter. Mostly it’s about who made it on time, or how hard it is to say goodbye to your kids, but one pair of deep, serious voices piques Jack’s interest. 

“–when the Major let it slip… Gosh, I thought he was joking!” a man murmurs.

“I know, I didn’t believe it, either. Aliens aren’t supposed to exist! They're just something from a sci-fi movie, right?” another man replies. 

Wait, what? Jack’s mind screeches to a halt as he replies to the conversation again. There is no way he heard that right. Aliens? That's what these men think the big threat is? That's insane! He has to find out the truth. 

Determination emboldens Jack, and he pushes back through the crowd, straining his ears for any useful information. Jack walks by hugging families, tearful goodbyes, and one heavyset woman screaming at an officer. Jack pauses, distracted, to watch the argument. 

“Now you listen here, mister!” the lady yells. “My sister worked for you people and now she's gone, and I'm left to raise her son all on my own! I’ve always resented her for choosing her job over him, and now the only benefit, this protection, is being denied?! How dare you? You let my nephew on one of these planes, or there’ll be hell to pay!” The woman stops to take a breath, but it seems the argument is over, for the officer she was screaming at is speechless, shocked by her rage. 

Jack, remembering his original mission, moves on. He squeezes through the crowd until he sees a man with more medals than clothes, in an intense discussion with an equally decorated colleague. Jack subtly creeps closer, stopping when he can hear the words being exchanged. 

“–I know, but are you sure? I feel like these people should know why they’re handing their kids away. It’s not fa–”

“Not fair? Not fair? Do you think the aliens holding an atomic bomb above London care about being fair?

“N-No, sir, I don’t know why I said that. I just don’t like this whole situation.” 

“I know, Captain, believe me, I know. But here we are, so let’s just try to survive long enough to bring these kids home, okay?”

“Yessir!” the Captain salutes and walks away. 

Dazed and lost in thought, Jack makes his way back towards the front of the building. His thoughts race. Aliens, actual, real, live aliens! With an atomic bomb, too! Jack begins to panic. He has to get on one of those planes. Once he’s safely far away from England, he can start his new life. 

His new life, yes, one where he is the boss of himself, and hopefully the rest of the choir, as well. That lieutenant was right, though. If everyone knew about the aliens, they’d panic, and Jack would never escape. Even the idea of extraterrestrials invading sends Jack into a nervous spiral. There is no way an already scared group could handle that information. 

“Jack!” Jack’s head snaps up at the call of his name. “Jack! Over here!” 

Locating the owner of the call, Jack jogs over, plastering a confident smile on face. 

“Hey, guys. What’s up?”

“Jack– er– Merridew, we thought we lost you! We’re going to board the plane!” a flustered Bill says excitedly. 

“Hmm, okay,” Jack replies, distracted by Roger who is fiddling with something in his hands. “Roger, what’ve you got there?”

Roger looks up and mutters, “My father gave me a knife.”

A knife? Jack stares at the gift enviously, “Can I see?” He takes the knife without waiting for a reply. 

It’s a nice weapon, sharp and shiny. Jack nods and slips it into his waistband. Roger opens his mouth, but doesn’t get a chance to argue because an ear-piercing voice booms. “EVERY CHILD MUST GET IN LINE! LAST CALL FOR BOARDING!!”

Jack leads the boys towards a line, and they all wait, nervous, as the line creeps closer to the plane. A few spaces in front of them, Jack spies the fat lady, and chuckles at the coincidence. 

By the time they get to the front, all the other planes have left, and dark clouds loom in the sky. The boys board the packed plane and pick seats towards the back. The megaphone man follows them on, yelling the whole way.  “BUCKLE UP!” “GET IN YOUR SEATS!” “QUIET DOWN!” Jack tunes him out and stares out the window, saying goodbye to Britain and hello to the start of his new life.

Ralph

Ralph had been on the parked plane for at least two hours. He sat in the middle of the cabin, next to the window, watching the sky darken. They had slowly boarded kids of all ages, and two little boys who couldn’t be older than six, were now seated next to him. One of the boys started crying for his mum, setting all the little ones on the plane off.

Now, the kids have quieted down, and one is even nodding off to sleep. Ralph is twiddling his thumbs when the megaphone man from the warehouse boards with the last bunch of kids, yelling his way up the aisle. 

Ralph leans his head back against the seat. This is going to be a long ride, he thinks as the pilot starts the pre-flight spiel about plane safety. 

Tuning that out, Ralph thinks about his father. He knows with absolute certainty he will see his dad again. They just have to sort out whatever this threat is. He imagines their destination as a beachside vacation home with a pool and those fancy coconut drinks. Ralph and a group of friends play and run along the beach until they're tired, then go back to the hotel. When his dad comes to pick him up, Ralph will tell him all of the adventures he had, and his father will be proud and happy. Ralph sits up straighter in his seat, knowing his dad would like that. 

The plane begins to rumble down the runway, and the small child to Ralph’s right whimpers. Ralph yawns and stares out the window, lost in thought. He must drift off because his thoughts take on a dreamlike quality. Time stretches and shrinks fluidly. 

A loud scream awakens Ralph from a deep slumber. He jerks up and looks toward the source of the sound. The megaphone man is hunched over, and spasms shake his body. A loud groan fills the cabin, causing a few boys to start crying again. The man convulses one last time before straightening up. Ralph joins in on the screaming this time because the sight of that former man is appalling. 

The beast straightens up as best it can in the cramped plane. It’s easily seven feet tall, maybe more. The human face had been burned away, showing a disgusting creature beneath. Red eyes with slits for pupils bulge out and sit in a misshapen head. The thing’s skin is a sick, bruised purplish color; mottled, cracked, and reptilian. Two long antennae protrude from the center of the thing’s forehead, and a scar marrs the side of its face. Ralph watches, horrified, as a long, forked tongue snaps out and snatches a fly from the air. Kids whimper, cry, and try to escape. Ralph is one of the attempted escapees, but he realizes quickly his seat belt won't come undone. In fact, the harder he pulls, the tighter it gets. 

The monster stares at the plane full of children. A loud buzzing fills the plane, and Ralph grips his ears trying to block out the noise, but the sound is coming from inside his head. The kids around him seem to be having the same problem, and the panic intensifies. 

The vibrations in his brain morph into audible sounds. SILENCE! The words are jarring. Ralph knows the command came from the creature, but its mouth did not move. The kids in the plane cry louder. SILENCE! This time, a hush descends upon the passengers; the only sounds they make are the sniffling and whimpering of the very youngest among them. The buzzing increases again, but Ralph has already begun to get used to it. 

YOU HAVE BEEN CHOSEN. Ralph’s heart leaps. “Chosen” does not sound like a good thing to be right now. YOU ALL REPRESENT YOUR PLANET IN OUR EXPERIMENT. IF YOU PASS, WE WILL LEAVE YOUR RACE ALONE. IF YOU FAIL, HUMANITY WILL BE DEEMED A VIRUS, AND OUR KIND WILL ERADICATE YOUR SPECIES. 

Nervous chatter fills the cabin.

“Go away!”

“–erradicate?”

“MOMMY!”

The alien shifts, and the boys fall silent. IT IS PROCEDURE TO EXPLAIN THE TEST BEFORE EXPERIMENTATION BEGINS, BUT YOUR MEMORY WILL BE ERASED BEFORE YOU ARE DEPOSITED IN THE STUDY ZONE. 

What? Memory erased? No! Ralph struggles against his restraint, but it's useless. The bug-eyed alien walks up the aisle, and kids tremble away from its gaze. It moves out of Ralph's line of sight towards the back of the plane, and a few moments later, a hissing fills the cabin. 

Sickly, green mist spills out from under the seats. The kids scream and thrash as the mist gets closer and closer. The panicked sounds fade away from the front of the plane as the children disappear into the fog. 

The green tendrils creep closer and closer to Ralph, and he grunts and struggles against his restraint. The Mist covers his face. Ralph holds his breath as long as he can, but his lungs burn and spots dance in his eyes. No… He thinks as everything fades to black. 

Ralph gasps as his eyes fly open. Where am I? What’s going on? His memories are fuzzy, but the last clear image he can make out is the view of the airfield as they flew away. Ralph glances out the window and sees nothing but angry, dark clouds sliced by lightning. Rain lashes the glass and Ralph shrinks back, afraid for a moment that the window will shatter. The plane drops a few feet, and kids are thrown from their seats. 

The little boy to Ralph’s right is curled in a ball, screeching and sobbing. Ralph sits up and glances around the cabin. The lights flicker, and kids are screaming. One boy, a few aisles ahead, stands up, Ralph yells at him to sit down, but the plane lurches again, throwing the kid off his feet. 

The lights go out. A single beat of silence occurs before lightning crashes, the sound of metal tearing assaults Ralph's ears, and the screaming reaches a crescendo. The cabin continues to jerk and rock, dropping or speeding up at random. Luggage flies through the air, smashing against seats, walls, and kids. Ralph gets a faceful of clothing, and the third boy in his row is hit with a suitcase. The boy stops his yelling. 

The pilot comes on the intercom, “Don’t worry folks, just a bit of turbulence. We should reach our destination soon.”

Suddenly, with no warning, the plane drops. All the boys are yanked in their seats, and the screaming is so loud it forms a single, blood-curdling roar. For a minute, Ralph is reminded of the fair rides his mom took him to when he was younger. His stomach tingles and leaps up into his throat. The sounds ripped from the vocal cords of the passengers are reminiscent of the cries of fairgoers. Well, kind of. It only takes a millisecond for the fear to grip him. That tingle in his stomach is multiplied tenfold, and it doesn't stop. Ralph's heart is beating its way out of his chest, and his eyes are screwed shut. A high-pitched crying reaches him through the suffocating terror. Dimly Ralph's aware that the cry is his own. He grips the seat and tries to block out the fear. The pilot said we’ll land soon. The pilot said we’ll land soon.  

All the boys pass out one by one, and the plane drops towards the ocean. The force of falling tears the wings off, and it spirals in the rain. Lightning strikes the cockpit, and arcs of electricity dance along the plane. 

The plane breaks through the cloud cover and falls toward a lush green island. When it hits, it tears through the trees and leaves a deep gash in the earth. 

High above the island, protected from the storm by some unknown technology, an orb hovers. The computer inside the ship determines that ninety-six percent of the subjects survived the crash. A program boots up, and phase one of the experiment begins. In a few hours, the boys will wake up, and they will show if humanity is worth preserving. 

The Search for Belonging

Simone Miller (2022)

“It’ll just be for a few months; you don’t have to be so bloody dramatic about it,” Ralph’s dad ruffled his son’s hair. “Once I’m off duty, I’ll pick you right up and we’ll have a mighty fine cuppa tea together.” Ralph stared glumly out of the cab window. Raindrops and condensation glimmered with caught light on the glass like liquid stars.

On the ride to the academy, he had drawn two parental stick figures on either side of a child figure feeding a shoddily scribbled horse. The cavemen-like sketches held the artistic prowess of a particularly uncoordinated 12-year-old. Ralph was going to draw their beachside cottage in the background. He was interrupted when the car puttered to a stop.

“Why do I have to go away? Why can’t I stay with Mum?” Ralph’s bottom lip quivered slightly. His father sighed and looked off into the distance. 

“You know how it is, son. Your mother and I have been…out of sorts lately,” he said, not meeting Ralph’s eyes. With a start, he lurched out of the car and into the pouring rain. A minute later, he returned with a rusty leather suitcase and thrust it into his son’s arms. “Don’t be narky; make your Mum and me proud, son.”

And with that endearing statement, Ralph was tossed out onto the curb. The car door slammed shut, driving away with a consistent put put put. It rounded the corner and disappeared behind the neat rows of rowan trees and fancy houses. The only sound was of the rain pouring down from the skies and the sloshing of it inside the gutters. The little boy, fair hair darkened by the rain and clinging to his forehead like a squid, turned around to cower before the looming brick building.

---

Ralph shuffled nervously in line, the uncomfortable starchy gray fabric of his uniform prickling his skin. Hundreds of boys were standing in a wobbly single-file line headed for the same place: the barber. Ralph had been waiting anxiously for the past two hours, scuffing his feet on the campus lawn. There was an early autumn chill in the air, one that blew past children and sent papers flying. Wind seeped through the thin fabric of their knee-high socks and ruffled soon-to-be chopped-off hair, a solemn farewell. Twenty peers remained between Ralph and the door. After receiving their haircut, the children streamed out of a heavy door to the left of the line. They were experimentally touching the coarse stubs of their buzzcuts. He sighed and stared at the passing clouds in the sky, imagining the wispy clouds merging to form different animals. 

A gruff voice broke the daydreaming, “Next!” He stumbled forward, pushing through a squeaky wooden door worn down by thousands of child's hands over the years. The barber, a balding stocky man with a gray stubble of a beard, directed him to a metal chair in the middle of the room. Yellow ceiling lights flickered dimly, and Ralph wondered how the barber could give proper haircuts in the lighting. It turned out that he didn’t need light to lop off a schoolboy’s hair. As soon as he slid into the freezing metal chair, a buzzing sound filled the air. Ralph felt his hair shaved off in haphazard clumps. Blonde wisps of hair fluttered to the floor, laying to rest with the mountains of brothers, doused in the cold golden light. 

The barber growled at him to leave. When Ralph didn’t respond, he gave the chair a sharp shove and sent the schoolboy stumbling out the door. Just as he regained his balance on the doorstep, a strong wind slapped him. Icy fingers gripped Ralph’s neck, devoid of the familiar locks of hair. Blinking tears out of his eyes, he stared at the brilliant blue sky, wondering if he would ever belong in such a heartless world. 

---

“This is a golden opportunity for such young men like you,” Mr. Lewis announced. “The winner of the talent show will join the traveling choir of the neighboring school on their way to their next performance in Greece. The fellow will not get off scot-free, however. A special project will be assigned to him alone. The details will be disclosed privately.” Ralph’s class chattered excitedly, their eyes bright with possibility. The traveling choir was an elite group belonging to their school’s rival, Pinkerton Academy. Everyone knew of them, but nobody knew them. Most of the students had stars in their eyes for an all-expenses-paid trip. Ralph, however, sought the escape. 

He had made a few mates, sure. But good old Tom and Peirce were always in different classes. Tom’s reckless demeanor also inexplicably disturbed Ralph. His constant wisecracks and stupid stunts got on his nerves. Ralph was (as many of his peers called him) a teacher’s pet. He figured out that by sucking up to the teachers for a few years, he could graduate with a clean slate and never have to go to school again. But he was getting tired of trying so hard. So naturally, Ralph wanted to get away from Penthurst Academy as soon as possible.

Even though he hated being at the school, the fair-haired boy was getting accustomed to his environment. His sloppy buzzcut was growing on him, the stray pieces that used to poke him in the eyes shaved off. Sometimes, Ralph relished the feeling of tugging on the uniform gray sweaters and assembling them in neat lines for attendance. The consistent routine and order appealed to him. Hopefully, Ralph would win the talent show. The only obstacle now would be to figure out his act.

---

Ralph’s shaky breath sent faint clouds of condensation floating around the cold stage. The black curtains were closed, but he could hear the bustling hum of the audience hiding behind them. He imagined them sitting restlessly in the cafeteria chairs, talent show pamphlet in hand. In bold letters on the second page: first act, Raplh Henderson, piano. Ralph assumed the editors intentionally spelled his name wrong, but it was too late to change it. Said piano was an old grand rooted to the center stage; the wooden cover the rich color of rust. It seemed to live and grow in the spotlight as if it belonged there all its life. A layer of dust wiped off when Ralph’s fingers made contact with the cream-colored keys. He took a deep breath and pierced apprehensively on the cracked leather piano bench.

"Gentlemen and ladies, welcome to the 34th annual Penthurst Academy talent show!” Mr. Lewis exclaimed. His voice boomed over the microphone, and the audio feedback made an ear-bleeding screech noise. Ralph jumped a little in his seat. He could almost see the audience wincing. “Tonight you will bear witness to the works of these talented young boys. They have been practicing for months for this very show. So I kindly ask you and your mates to show the utmost respect to our performers. And without further ado, our first performance by,” Mr. Lewis paused. The sound of rustling papers shuffling through the microphone. Ralph knew he was looking at the pamphlet. “Ra…plh Henderson on the piano!”

The curtains whisked open. A blinding spotlight illuminated the stage, making the once annoying dust specks glow like fallen snow. The schoolboy could feel prying eyes pinned to his back. He took a deep breath and placed his fingers on the keys. 

The notes resonated through the room, echoing through the cafeteria walls and the audience's souls like ripples through a still lake. Fingers fluttered across the keys, from the lowest octave to the highest pitch. Every chord sent a buzzing vibration through the floor, dancing up his feet and into his soul. Underneath the rhythm, he could hear the soft tap of the keys pressing down. Ralph lost himself in the melodies, floating like a butterfly in a summer breeze. The audience disappeared, and it was just the pianist and the piano. 

Too soon, the song ended. The schoolboy struck the final chord with satisfaction, and the audience erupted. Ralph turned around into the blinding lights, his face flushing. He could barely make out the silhouettes of a standing audience, clapping and whooping. Bowing down, Ralph’s face cracked into an infectious smile.

---

The airport around Ralph buzzed with the happy chatter of humans. He was standing off to the side of the Pinkerton choir boys, clutching his boarding ticket in one hand and suitcase in the other. The fair-haired boy was starkly contrasting with the uniform black caps and cloaks of the choir. They had reached their gate for the Athens flight, and the rest of their fellow passengers milled about, making pleasant conversation. 

A boy with curly wisps of hair sat in the row of seats, his face scrunched up from peering at the world through thick-lensed glasses. He was clad in a rain jacket, clearly not of the British school-boy variety. Several seats away from him, a choir boy with dark hair peeked around the gate with bright eyes. Some other schoolchildren were there since they decided to treat the runners-up to the trip. Ralph had won first place, though. A few adult chaperones roamed around, making sure everything was in order. There were a concerning few of them. 

This thought plagued him for a few minutes, but he swatted it away like an annoying gnat. A peppy flight attendant with a red ascot herded them away and collected their boarding passes. She shepherded the rowdy boys into the aircraft and sat them down into seats. Their heads barely reached the headrests. They squirmed around under the tightly-fastened seat belts.  Ralph was assigned to a chair next to a choir boy with an alarming shock of red hair peeking out from his cap and a spray of freckles. He had yet to be acquainted with this boy, but he looked like someone who would make an interesting conversation. 

Just as Ralph was racking his brain for a conversation starter, the flight attendants stood up in the aisle and called for their attention. The boys turned their heads to watch as they demonstrated how to inflate a life jacket and wear oxygen masks. They only half paid attention because when would they ever need to know that?

---

Ralph wished he had listened to the safety instructions. What started as mild turbulence built into shaky turmoil that shuddered the plane to its core. It reminded him of the time when he was eight years old, bedbound by a terrible case of whooping cough. Every hack felt like iron fists were squeezing his lungs. Now, it seemed as though the stormy sky was clutching the plane like a long-lost toy. 

A tearing sound split through the screams of the children. The back of the plane was desperately clinging to the cabin by a few screws. The roof was on fire. Flight attendants frantically yelled out orders to each other. Ralph gripped the armrests of his seat so tight his knuckles turned white. The wind flung away tears that sprang up from his eyes. He frantically tried to recall blurry memories of the safety precautions. 

Oxygen masks dropped down from the ceiling. Ralph lunged for his. The choir boy adjacent to him lolled around in his seat, clearly unconscious. Ralph grabbed both of their masks and strapped his on. He fumbled around with the yellow band, almost losing grip of the second mask. Finally, Ralph managed to shove it over the boy’s mouth. He returned to his seat and jammed his eyes shut.

Ralph felt the tail end snap off before he heard it. His planted feet felt the echoes of the metal plates breaking. A terrible groaning sound reached his ears, almost washed away by the howling wind. Ralph did not look but knew that the other half of the plane was gone. Their awkward fall turned into a devastating plummet, and his stomach was left 3,000 meters above them. Ralph blacked out to the sound of screams. 

Ralph opened his eyes. He was lying flat on his back on a soft dirt floor. A fern

tickled his cheek. The brilliant blue sky peeked out from a canopy of emerald-green leaves. Birds chirped pleasantly. Ralph blinked, memories flooding back to him. Patches of his hair were ashen and burnt from the fire. His gray sweater, now uncomfortably warm, was in tatters. Miraculously, Ralph was unhurt. He shrugged off the woolen pullover. Stumbling to his feet, the small schoolboy ventured out into the unknown paradise, trailing his sweater behind him.

The Hunter’s Pillow

Jaylynn Valentin (2022)

The wooden bed frame creaked as Jack set down holding his blanket up to his chest as the sound of screaming and glass breaking flooded his ears. He fell back onto his pillow thinking about Saturday in which he will be on a flight to Manchester to attend a musical. He was lost in the ocean of thoughts until the screaming between an angry couple abruptly stopped. Fear filled his body from head to toe as he nervously and slowly arose from his bed to check on what stopped the arguing. 

The wooden floor creaked as he tiptoed to his door that towered over him. He grabbed the worn out gold door knob and opened the door. A dimmed yellow light from the living room filled the staircase that was across from Jack's door. He pointed his right foot outside of the door frame and placed it on the worn out floor. He took a deep yet shaky breath as the fear shot through from his toes to his head. He stood at the top of the stairs gripping the railing as he extended his foot on the next step. 

Jack gasped as a shadow interrupted the dim yellow light on the front door downstairs. As it was approaching the staircase, Jack quickly turned around and ran to his bedroom, quietly but quickly, closing his door shut. He let out a sigh of relief as the build up of fear was preventing him from breathing. He hid under his blanket again with up and over his nose. He jumped as the door opened with a loud and long creak. 

His mom poked her head through the door with a tear stained face and red eyes. Jack’s heart dropped but at the same time, he was relieved she was okay and walking. 

She stepped into the room and approached Jack. “I know you don’t like hearing when we argue but your–” the sound of a slamming door interrupted her effort to comfort Jack. He jumped as the vibrations of the slam raced through the floors of the house. Jack’s mom looked into his  wide, glossy eyes as she left to go downstairs. The screaming was muffled due to it being outside. 

Jack grabbed his musical pillow and hugged it tight. He closed his eyes and let the warm tears run down his face, leaving a salty track on his cheeks. His stomach turned which caused a whimper to escape from his lips. His face cringed and his mouth turned downward as he started to cry. He tried to muffle his cries by crying into his pillow. Thoughts of the argument filled his head. He cried harder as more and more thoughts took over his idea of sleep. 

As his lips trembled and his cheeks turned red, he felt the end of his bed dip. He took his face out of his pillow and checked to see what it was. His mom had a worried look on her face as she rubbed his legs assuringly. “Honey, your father and I had a misunderstanding, and he left to take a breath of fresh air,” she calmly said, hoping Jack wouldn’t question it. 

“Is that your way of telling me he’s gone for good this time?” Jack mumbled. His mom looked down at her feet and turned her mouth sideways and downward showing a guilt filled expression. Jack turned to face the wall and stared at it a burning sensation formed in his throat from holding in his sobs. 

The bed lifted to its normal state as his mom gave him space to cry and process what happened. She left the room with her arms crossed and her lips hidden, pressed together with her eyebrows pointing upwards. 

Jack continued to face the wall and blinked. He was standing on a wide, polished wooden stage. Bright show lights were on Jack making him the center of attention. He was facing an area filled with red velvet seats that were split into three massive sections. There wasn’t a single seat that was empty. He looked at his hand that was holding a wired microphone. He was dressed in a suit and dress shoes, but he was confused. He didn’t know what to do until somebody shouted, “We want to hear you sing Jack!” The whole crowd murmured in agreement. 

Jack put the microphone up to his mouth and started to sing, “Don’t Fence Me In” by Bing Crosby. He closed his eyes and felt the music control his body as he felt alone even though the backup singers surrounded him. He was singing his heart out and belting the C sharp he always wanted to show off. The crowd erupted in cheers and clapping. He opened his eyes and continued singing with a calming flow as the cheers drowned out the backup singers and band. 

As he neared the end of the song, the crowd stood up and roared with cheers and whistles and bright flashes from cameras. Roses were thrown at the stage and landed around his feet. He picked one up and placed it between his teeth, bowing at the crowd. They started chanting, “Jack! Jack! Jack!” He gave a cheesy smile towards the crowd as he was shaken on his shoulder. 

    “Jack!” his mom whisper-shouted as she hovered above him. He opened his eyes and realized the clock read 4:30am. He quickly got up and rushed to the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror. His hair was disheveled and his face was filled with sleep. He grabbed the flat handle on his black tooth brush in one hand and in the other, he lightly squeezed the toothpaste bottle. Red blue and white swirled paste covered the bristles of the brush. 

His mother was in his room preparing his suitcase and clothes for his trip. He washed the foam out of his mouth and wet his hair. He cleaned his face and slicked his hair down. “Hurry Jack! We don’t have much time before the flight starts boarding!” yelled Jack’s mom. As he entered his room, his clothes were neatly placed on his bed, and he changed into them. He put on his cloak and topped his look off with his hat decorated with a gold badge. He grabbed his suitcase near the front door. 

He heard keys jangle and footsteps follow behind him. He opened the front door as moonlight struck him in the face and filled a narrow slice of light on the staircase. A taxi approached the driveway as his mom hurriedly locked the door and rushed over. The driver opened the door and popped open the trunk. He picked up Jack’s suitcase and placed it in the rear of the trunk.

“Thank you, sir,” Jack politely said as he blushed due to the kindness of the man. He sat in the back as the car took off to the airport. His head leaned forward as sleep struck him. 

                                      ★               ★            ★           ★

Jack was startled awake by the jerking motion of the car. Bright lights illuminated the figure of the windows on the black leather seats of the car. His door opened and his suitcase was awaiting him on the sidewalk. He quickly got out of the car and grabbed the handle on his suitcase. He walked quickly,  following his mother to his plane. They made it just in time as the stairs to the plane opened and lay on the ground.

Jack got in the boarding line with his mother as she grabbed his face. “I love you, Jack. Phone me when you land, please,” she said as she kissed him on his forehead.

Jack walked up the stairs and heard his name being called immediately. He spotted boys in the left center section of the plane wearing the exact same outfit as him. He placed his rectangular suitcase in the cupboard designated for suitcase storage. He had the outside seat and sat next to one of his choir members, Roger. They both sat in silence as the door of the airplane closed and was locked. 

Everyone buckled their seatbelts due to safety regulations and prepared for take off. The plane started up and moved towards the runway. A sudden burst of power forcefully pushed everyone's bodies back to their seats as the plane soared towards the sky. Jack pulled out his musical pillow and tightly held it as he closed his eyes. After a few minutes, the plane settled at an even altitude and everything was calm. Roger noticed the pillow. 

“Are you seriously holding a pillow right now?” he laughed. Roger took the pillow from Jack and he tried to grab it back.

“N-no my mom made me take it because, because she wanted me to think of her when I’m gone,” Jack clapped back. 

“Awww you want your mommy with you on your scary plane ride?” Roger taunted as he burst out laughing. Jack’s face turned red with embarrassment, and he quickly hid his face. He aggressively grabbed his pillow from Roger’s hands and placed it under his legs. Roger was still laughing until his stomach started to hurt. 

“Not funny,” Jack mumbled under his breath. Roger stopped laughing and stared out the window. 

“You know what would be cool? If we jumped out of this plane. I want to experience flying,” Roger seriously stated. 

Jack looked at him with disbelief. “You know if you jump, you’re falling to your death. You’re not flying,” Jack said annoyingly. Roger just rolled his eyes. Jack felt the floor of the plane rumbling. He didn’t think anything of it because it stopped rumbling shortly after. But then the plane started violently shaking. A woman’s coffee mug flew to the back of the plane, the coffee burning the passengers the mug passed over. Screams filled the plane as food and drinks were thrown to the back of the plane. Cupboards were opening up resulting in suitcases being thrown everywhere. Jack looked around him and saw a suitcase come towards him. He ducked and put his arms over his head for protection but the speed and impact of the suitcase knocked Jack out. 

                                   ★               ★            ★           ★

Green palm trees filled the sky as Jack slowly opened his eyes. He slowly sat up as his body ached, and he had a massive headache. He touched his head and his hat was still on. He took it off and felt around and on his head for blood or a bump but didn’t find anything. He saw Roger laying across from him. He wasn’t moving so Jack got up and shook him, worried he died. Roger gasped and sat up coughing. 

“Where are we? What happened?” questioned Roger.

“I don’t know. I just woke up and I don’t see the rest of our group,” Jack stated. They both got up and looked around. They didn’t see anyone but as they walked, they eventually spotted a few more boys from the group and shook them awake. The group were scattered near each other, they searched until the whole group was gathered. They huddled  together.

“Now boys, none of us know what happened but we need to find out where we are,” Jack said. They all agreed and walked in a big group. A low mysterious horn-like sound erupted from somewhere on the island, and the boys were startled at first, but headed towards it.