Creative writing - The Meeting

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V.Poyntz                                                                          27.01.2002

The Meeting

They were coming to get him, creeping through the undergrowth towards him. As they drew near he jumped up to run on, but tripped. He had been spotted. The savages drew in, their spears all pointing at him, moving around him as he stared up at them, chanting ‘Kill the pig. Cut his throat. Spill his blood.’ As the chanting got louder, and the spears nearer, he screamed.

He woke up breathing heavily, covered in sweat, his hair adhering to his forehead. A nightmare. The same nightmare it always was. He was back on the island again. Except this time the officer hadn’t saved him, the savages had killed him. Ralph sat up haltingly and went to fetch a glass of water. He checked his watch, six forty-five in the morning. No point going back to bed now, his appointment was at seven thirty. He knew why the dream had come back this time. Today he was going to meet Jack Merridew for the first time in fifteen years.

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As they stood outside the door the psychiatrist quickly briefed Ralph before he entered.

“Remember everything we’ve talked about. This is for you to sort out what happened. To sort out, if you can, why it happened. Let the anger out. Don’t let him intimidate you into not saying anything.”

Ralph entered the room alone. Jack was already there silhouetted against the window. He turned and surveyed Ralph as he entered, holding out his hand in greeting. Ralph was tall and thin with fair hair. Jack was bigger and looked stronger, with brown hair and dark eyes. They ...

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