Diary Entry

Samar Al-Ansari 11.5
Sep. 18,’04
Objective: Written Task 1, diary entry

Dear Diary,
Fear doesn’t even begin to describe the state of absolute terror that I’m in. How I long for the days when it was accepted for me to openly cry and not be condemned for it, how I wish I could be a littlun that could cry freely and have someone reassure him. I am scared of being in charge, I am scared of the fact that we might never be rescued, and I am scared of people turning against me. But, I can’t show the others my fear, because then they will underestimate my abilities as their leader. My tears will show weakness, and my strength is all they admire.

Maybe I am not supposed to be the leader. I have been trying so hard to make the others feel comfortable in this unpleasant setting, but I feel that I am failing them. As the days diminish so does the state of order and civilization, no one seems to want to listen to me anymore, especially Jack. I am desperately trying to do things with the peoples’ best interests in mind, while Jack is going about things in a selfish manner. I snapped at him the other day, I know I shouldn’t have; a good leader is tolerant. Why did they choose me as their leader? Was it because of the damned conch that nobody seems to know how to respect? I am not going to lie, it felt incredible when I saw the majority of hands go up to vote for me. I felt accepted, admired, even liked, but now, with Jack on the rise, what if people forget about me, because Jack might promise them their wants and not their needs? I am not saying that I am a great leader, on the contrary, but I know that I am better for these kids than Jack. Only the ignorant will go with Jack, but then again, everyone is somewhat ignorant.

Piggy would make a good leader, he is smart, very smart, but unfortunately leaders must obtain a certain image, which Piggy doesn’t have. I don’t like to admit this to him, but without him, I don’t know what I’d do. His comments have truly helped me, and his glasses did start the fire. I could never tell him this though, because I don’t want him to have a big head, like Jack.

I lay here on the shore with the starlit sky as my only source of light, while everyone is sleeping, thinking about paternalism. I try to be a fatherly figure to the littluns, I try to be their confidante, but I need a fatherly figure of my own, I need my father. My father wouldn’t condemn me for wetting this entry with my suppressed tears, on the contrary, my father would squeeze them out of me. NO, I can’t cry, I won’t cry….

Ralph