A/N So here is my new story! Yet another girl-on-the-island fic, but there aren't enough that have been completed! Did you know there are 60 results when you look up 'girl' in the Lord of the Flies category, but there are only 7 that are completed? And two of them aren't even girl-on-the-island fics. So, when I post this, it will make 61 stories, and hopefully soon enough, 8 completed.

I called this story Definitions because at the beginning of each chapter, I am going to give a definition that relates to each chapter. Original, eh? Not really…

This story will be based off the book.

Ages are as followed:

Ralph 16

Jack 16

Roger 16

Piggy 15

Riley (OC) 15

Samneric 15

They're the only ones who are really important enough to have an age. So, please read and REVIEW! I would love to hear what you think. :)

Now (FINALLY), no more rambling, on with the story!

Disclaimer: I almost forgot! I own… (drum roll)… NOTHING! Except Riley. She's mine, in a way.

Home: An environment offering security and happiness.

My head pounded, every inch of my body ached. My eyes were shut tightly as I tried to figure out how to move my limbs once again. I finally lifted my hand to my face. I felt my cheeks wet. I must've been crying – subconsciously, of course. My mother would never stand for tears.

Tears are for wimps, I heard her harsh voice whisper into my mind. Then would come the slap. Logic would indicate that pain would come after, but my brother and I had become immune to the pain. It came so often, we could barely feel it anymore. Only when it was extremely intense pain could I actually feel it.

Suddenly, my whole world came crashing down as I realized what had just happened. I had been on a plane with my brother, Roger, and a bunch of other boys. We were being evacuated because of the war, and Roger had somehow gotten his hands on an extra plane ticket to the boy's plane. The authorities didn't care that I was going on their plane – there was so much commotion going on, they were just happy to get the kids out of the country.

And then, the plane was hit. With a bomb. Our plane came crashing down. Now, I didn't know where I was, who had survived. Maybe I was the only one! If I was on a deserted island alone, well, I was screwed.

I tried to collect myself. I wiped away the numb tears and rubbed my sore forearm. I had no clue what I was supposed to do. I walked through the jungle, pushing away creepers that were in my way. I saw a beach as I pushed through the trees. Then, came a loud, trumpet sound. It sounded close to me, maybe on the beach. Maybe, just maybe, that was a sign of humans!

I started to run, in the process, tripping over a vine, and definitely spraining my ankle. I pushed myself up, and limped to the beach. I saw boys. About ten of them! I limped over to where they were assembling.

"Look!" a fat kid shouted, "a girl!"

I walked passed him, going directly to the good-looking boy holding a conch shell. Maybe this fat kid had never been in arm's length of a girl. Why else would he freak out just at the sight of one?

"Shut up, Piggy. She looks hurt," the boy with the conch shell said. He jogged to me, putting his arm around my waist to support my hurt foot. I couldn't help but smile.

"I'm Ralph," he told me, grinning.

"I'm Riley," I replied, smirking a little bit as well.

Ralph led me to a log and helped me sit down without letting my foot hit the ground.

"Thanks," I whispered lightly. He smiled again. He had a beautiful smile. I was about to ask him what we were going to do – the survivors of the plane crash, when we spotted them. The choir! My brother! They were wearing black capes, their uniform, and coming towards us.

Though my brother Roger was part of the choir, I had never actually met any of the other members. After a performance, all the boys promptly left. I didn't understand why – I would've loved to meet them. Especially their lead chorister, Jack Merridew. He was tall with red hair and toned muscles. His blue eyes were so deep, they conveyed his every emotion.

They finally reached where we were sitting. Roger, standing on Jack's right flank, made a move to approach me, but something in Jack Merridew's eyes stopped him. Jack then locked eyes with me for a moment, and then turned his gaze towards Ralph.

Jack interrogated Ralph about the conch and who he was exactly. The tension between them was thick – I could see they wouldn't get along already. Jack finally ordered his choir members to sit down. Roger sat quickly beside me, giving me a half hug with one arm. He seemed to be in a decent mood even based on what had just happened. At least he was controlling his temper.

"I'm so happy you're okay. I thought you were a goner, for sure!" he whispered when Jack turned his back on us.

"I could say the same for you," I replied, speaking at the same noise level as him.

Finally something Ralph and Jack were discussing – arguing – about caught my attention.

"We need a chief, a leader. Someone who can keep everyone in order so we can get rescued," Ralph announced to the group.

"Ralph's right. And I'm right to be chief. I'm leader of the choir and I can sing in C-Sharp," Jack seemed very proud of this talent. I just rolled my eyes. Being able to sing doesn't mean you're fit to be a leader.

"Well I think the boy with the shell should be leader!" one of the multiple little ones called out. I personally agreed with this, and it seemed most of the group did, too. Everyone could hear the sounds of approval flying around.

"Alright, we'll take a vote then. How many want me for chief?" Jack asked, his voice daring anyone to say no.

The hands of the choir members flew up, including the hand of my brother. When I didn't raise my hand, he stared at me in disbelief, anger in him already starting to build up as he tried to convince me to raise my hand. I wanted to, to make Roger happy, but I just couldn't. Ralph truly seemed like the better choice, so when everyone was raising their hands for him, I raised mine.

The fat kid, now known as Piggy, counted hands. He didn't need to count – it was clear that Ralph had won the election.

Jack seemed mad about this, but took a seat in a defeated sort of anger. He clenched his fists with his light blue eyes icy and glaring. I tuned out of my surroundings once again, until both Jack and Ralph started to leave the beach, with another choirboy named Simon with them. They were going to explore the island.

When they left, I looked around the beach – also known as my new home. I saw only five older kids on the beach, eight in total, when the other boys got back. There were a few more kids who were about ten or twelve, and a bunch of little kids about six years old.

I sighed. Although this island would be incredibly annoying, I couldn't help but think it may just be better than my old, abusive home. Roger nudged me, hard. Hard enough that my sore arm started to hurt again.

"What?" I hissed at him.

"Why didn't you vote for Jack?" He almost shouted at me, furious.

And here is where the first crack in our relationship since home originated.

A/N Don't worry! I won't ramble this time! I have a bad habit of doing that.

So, love it? Hate it? Should I continue? Or never, ever, write another word of this story again?

I'm just kidding about that part. Please don't be that harsh. Just tell me you don't like it. Thanks.

I hope you enjoyed it! DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!