I miss my father; I wish I could talk to him right now. Last night our group decided to go to Jack’s feast and things went savage. My body has became more frail and eating that meat that night made my mouth water and all it made me think is I want more, I wanted to help hunt. While we were eating, the group and I were dancing and chanting to this chant, “Kill the beast! Cut his throat! Spill his blood!”(Golding 152). As we were chanting, we saw something scary crawl out of the woods, and we thought it was the beast. All we wanted to do was to kill it. All I remember was the thrilling and relief feeling of killing the thing that terrified us all the most. Today, when we woke up, we saw the figure up close. As we scrutinized the dead body, our