of order out of the children, rather than having to do so themselves. After all, if it wasn’t for Edmund’s influence, who knows, maybe the children would be stronger as a group, more able to rally against the neglect they suffered at the hands of the matrons.
Yet, despite the fact that none of the children dared stand up to Edmund, it was clear enough that they didn’t actually like him and up to now they were rooting for any underdog that presented itself. Oscar thought back to the admiration he’d received after his escape from the Institute, short-lived though it was. It was a stark contrast to his current standing within the group. But even mulling the potential reasons for this over, he remained baffled. The incident at the pond did not entirely explain it and the motives for the scene that had unfolded outside the toilets with Flynn were even less clear. The more Oscar dwelt on the unfortunate turn of events the more it needled him, stirring him to a state of anger. Edmund was getting away with this and no one seemed to be able to see it any more; no one believed him.
Sitting repairing the dents in tin helmets at that afternoon’s work session Oscar became heavier handed, his actions notably more aggressive. If anything he was causing more damage to the helmets than he was repairing, though the Institute did not really have much in terms of quality control so it mattered little. As long as the children worked hard and silently, that was all that mattered.
“Psst, Osc what’s the matter?” Piggy hissed from an adjacent workbench. Oscar was so wrapped up in thought he had failed to notice Piggy sitting on the workbench next to his.
“Nothing, I’m fine.” Oscar was not in the right mood to disclose any feelings, and his thoughts were too confused to be worth talking about.
“Come on Osc, who else you gonna speak to?” Piggy whispered in a jovial manner but the implications of this question only received a stern stare from Oscar, comprehension finally dawning on him. Jokingly though it had been said, it was true – Flynn had already seen to it that the few people who had spoken to him at lunch time were thoroughly put off doing so again.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t…” Piggy stopped as the matron walked past.
“I know ,” Oscar interrupted once the matron had moved on and before Piggy could finish his point. “This Edmund situation has got the best of me, no one seems to buy my story. Or…” he added “ …if they do, they’re too scared to say anything”.
“Hmmm, someone really needs to confront him.” Piggy said thoughtfully, his furrowed brow suggesting he was at least attempting to formulate a plan to this effect.
“Perhaps, though I hardly think he’ll change.” Oscar said glumly, looking towards the bench where Edmund slouched at the rear of the workshop. He didn’t bother repairing the helmets and instead chiselled chunks out of the wooden desktop with his trusty knife. A gang of youths of similar age sat in close proximity and Oscar wasn’t surprised to see Flynn in amongst them. It would seem that Edmund had formed the beginnings of a formidable army within the Institute grounds.
At the end of the work session Oscar felt drained. It was not just the laborious chore of hammering out the helmet dents but also the realisation that one could only sustain a certain level of anger before it became tiring. He now had to resign himself to the current mood of the Institute, feeling alienated by the other children who had unjustly been poisoned against him. Not wishing to eat but merely return to the dorms for an early night he was surprised by the scene that soon unfolded before his eyes as he left the workshop.
Oscar’s relationship with Piggy was one that had been formed on forced terms. The two of them had known each other for only a short while and the camaraderie they had developed was more a result of circumstance and limited
Yet, despite the fact that none of the children dared stand up to Edmund, it was clear enough that they didn’t actually like him and up to now they were rooting for any underdog that presented itself. Oscar thought back to the admiration he’d received after his escape from the Institute, short-lived though it was. It was a stark contrast to his current standing within the group. But even mulling the potential reasons for this over, he remained baffled. The incident at the pond did not entirely explain it and the motives for the scene that had unfolded outside the toilets with Flynn were even less clear. The more Oscar dwelt on the unfortunate turn of events the more it needled him, stirring him to a state of anger. Edmund was getting away with this and no one seemed to be able to see it any more; no one believed him.
Sitting repairing the dents in tin helmets at that afternoon’s work session Oscar became heavier handed, his actions notably more aggressive. If anything he was causing more damage to the helmets than he was repairing, though the Institute did not really have much in terms of quality control so it mattered little. As long as the children worked hard and silently, that was all that mattered.
“Psst, Osc what’s the matter?” Piggy hissed from an adjacent workbench. Oscar was so wrapped up in thought he had failed to notice Piggy sitting on the workbench next to his.
“Nothing, I’m fine.” Oscar was not in the right mood to disclose any feelings, and his thoughts were too confused to be worth talking about.
“Come on Osc, who else you gonna speak to?” Piggy whispered in a jovial manner but the implications of this question only received a stern stare from Oscar, comprehension finally dawning on him. Jokingly though it had been said, it was true – Flynn had already seen to it that the few people who had spoken to him at lunch time were thoroughly put off doing so again.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t…” Piggy stopped as the matron walked past.
“I know ,” Oscar interrupted once the matron had moved on and before Piggy could finish his point. “This Edmund situation has got the best of me, no one seems to buy my story. Or…” he added “ …if they do, they’re too scared to say anything”.
“Hmmm, someone really needs to confront him.” Piggy said thoughtfully, his furrowed brow suggesting he was at least attempting to formulate a plan to this effect.
“Perhaps, though I hardly think he’ll change.” Oscar said glumly, looking towards the bench where Edmund slouched at the rear of the workshop. He didn’t bother repairing the helmets and instead chiselled chunks out of the wooden desktop with his trusty knife. A gang of youths of similar age sat in close proximity and Oscar wasn’t surprised to see Flynn in amongst them. It would seem that Edmund had formed the beginnings of a formidable army within the Institute grounds.
At the end of the work session Oscar felt drained. It was not just the laborious chore of hammering out the helmet dents but also the realisation that one could only sustain a certain level of anger before it became tiring. He now had to resign himself to the current mood of the Institute, feeling alienated by the other children who had unjustly been poisoned against him. Not wishing to eat but merely return to the dorms for an early night he was surprised by the scene that soon unfolded before his eyes as he left the workshop.
Oscar’s relationship with Piggy was one that had been formed on forced terms. The two of them had known each other for only a short while and the camaraderie they had developed was more a result of circumstance and limited
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