CCLordoftheFlysJournal

CC Ciaudelli Mrs. Laurencot LOFT- I Will Never Know Why CC's Homepage

My name is Linda Merridew, and I’m the mother of the infamous Jack Merridew. My son, Jack, was stranded on an island with only children around him. My son tormented the children on this island, murdered at least two of these children, and tried to hunt another. Jack was raised in a good English home, but he turned his back on all the values that I taught him to live by.

It was a quiet Sunday morning and I was making eggs and bacon for my husband. I was thinking about my son, I was missing him. Jack had been taken to a safer location because of the war going on in England. I thought England was a dangerous place and that nothing could be worse, but I was wrong. Then I received a telegram. It was the English government telling me that the plane my son's plane had been shot down, and there had been no communication from the aircraft. At that moment I fell, collapsed and threw down all that was in my hands. I began to sob and cry out, “WHY, WHY ME, WHY MY SON!?” I was shaking and my heart had stopped; I could barley breathe. My husband ran over to me in utter shock not comprehending what was going on. I couldn’t explain it to him. I couldn’t even begin to think of words to say to him. He then read the telegraph, and was in total shock like I was. He tried to comfort me, but it didn’t work. Nothing could have been done to make me stop those feelings except someone telling me that Jack was safe. The plane had been shot down I thought, so I figured he had to be dead. I tried to have hope, but in the back of my head I was thinking that there was a small chance he survived and was safe. Each and everyday I just woke up, cried, ate, and tried to sleep and did it all over again, each and every day. Some days I couldn’t move, I couldn’t even get out of bed, I just laid there wondering where Jack was or what he had gone through. I would wonder if he was still breathing air like me or if he was washed up on some deserted island like a dead fish. I never left my house except to go to church. That was the hardest thing though, to look up at the balcony and not see my son leading the choir in song, to not hear them sing the hymns I was so used to. I had to bite my lip every time I thought about him in the choir so I wouldn’t break down in tears and disturb the others in church. We didn’t have much money so there were only a few recent photos of Jack, I would stare at them for hours trying not to picture a dead body, trying to keep his spirit alive.

After two months the tiny bit of hope that lingered in my body withered away. After exactly two months, one week, four days, thirteen hours, and twenty four minutes later from the original telegram, we received another telegram. This time it started off saying that Jack had been rescued and was safe. My heart started to jump out of my shirt. I was jumping up and down screaming and crying, and thanking God. I couldn’t believe it, I couldn’t even understand how it was possible that he had survived, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t care, I just wanted to see Jack, and squeeze and kiss him so much that he hated me for it. I just wanted to feel this touch and see his face in person, feel his presence. Then, I heard the rest of the message. The second part of the telegram discussed something extremely vulgar and crude. It stated off saying that my 12-year-old son, who hadn’t even gone through puberty yet, had committed two murders, attempted a third murder, antagonized young children, and hunted kids his own age. I couldn’t process this information at first. I couldn’t even imagine that my son, the boy who came from me--my creation--could have done something like this. All of his life Jack had been a good boy, always did his chores, followed the rules, never got a detention, and always did his homework. I couldn’t understand how my precious son could turn into such a monster. Sure, he always wanted to be the leader and take charge, but never in a negative way. I couldn’t convince myself that what was being accused of my son was true. The police said that there were numerous witnesses who would testify to this statement and there was evidence proving that it was true. I have an older son who grew up in the same society, around the same people, but nothing happened to him, he is still a good boy, he never turned into such a terror like Jack did. I never believed that environment could affect someone so much, but now I see that that is indeed possible. This concept was not something that my brain could process at the time when first hearing of these horrific events.

I was told that the boys on the island were alone without any adults of any sort. I’m guessing that without any supervision or potential consequences the boys thought they could go wild. I believe that in their minds they thought it was all a game, a game that went too far. I think this environment plus being in the situation where numerous boys were going through culture shock caused these tragedies, and caused my son to lose his innocence. I think every child influenced every other in either good or bad ways, making this mess. The bad, unfortunately, took over and most of the actions on the island just took the children deeper into the transformation of barbarians. These children tried to smoke another child, Ralph, from the forest so that they could torture and kill him. What 12-year-olds do this? These kids weren’t just playing cowboy and Indians. This was reality. They so brutally tortured a pig that when the police were reading another child’s statement about it I had to ask them to stop because I couldn’t handle the picture in my head of this poor boar, who was suffering for these children’s pleasures. My own son, with his bare hands and only sticks, along with others killed another boy, tortured him so much he could barley crawl; he washed out onto sea. This child, Simon, was thought to be coming to tell the boys that there wasn't a beast that lived on the island. This is 100% true, but what I have concluded is that there was a beast inside all the children, and it came out on that island. Even the kids labeled as the “good kids” took part in the brutal murder of Simon. The beast in everyone rose up and took over. This I believe can only happen through influence of others and the environment around you, and these children were in a negative environment that guided them to do the vicious things that they did. To think that like an animal my son hunted other kids keeps me up every night wondering how someone like that could have come from me, could have even existed.

I will still never fully understand what occurred on that island, and I think I can only mentally and emotionally handle all that I know now. I don’t think anyone will ever know what really triggered Jack and the other kids to turn from good English boys into brutal savages. It’s a question we would all like to know the answer to, but it’s a question that is impossible to answer, and I don’t think Jack or any of the boys could truthfully answer it.

I think if this situation never occurred my son would have grown up to become a normal English boy. He would go to church every week, sing with the choir, go to school, do homework, and hang out with friends, all of it. Now I can’t even imagine bringing him to church after the sins he has committed. He went to confession but I still feel that he can’t walk into church and worship God when he committed those sinful and terrible crimes.

Jack is home with our family and we attend therapy every week. A priest does come to our home once a week for a private mass and to bless Jack in hopes of leading him to realize what he did was a horrible thing. He says he understands, but you can see in his eyes that he is lying. When he talks about the incidents he describes everything in such detail it’s scary; you can tell that he tries to hide it, but he seems to love talking about it. It scares me. I feel like this whole event has changed my son forever and turned him into some kind of monster that can’t yet return back to human form. I feel as if some of what happened on the island will be brought here, and people will get hurt.

Jack is only home for a few months while we wait for his trial to begin. Due to the fact that no adults were on the island, Jack and the other kids involved are being tried as children. Jack has changed because of this situation, and our whole family and relationship changed too. We can’t even look at each other anymore. We are speechless when it comes time to therapy. Each and everyday I still try to process all of this in my head. Everyday I wish that it was all a dream and I could just wake up from it, and realize that none of it is real. But then everyday I wake up and face this harsh reality that I now have to live with.