June, Day 8 on island still

Nothing is how its supposed to be. All the boys have gone mad and are dangerously close to turning into animals. This island aint as good as we first thot and I want to go home. Everything is dirty and worn and i'm sick and tired of watching my step every hour of the day. It was going to be good and fun here but its all work and strugglin to stay alive. You are always watchin making sure you don't step on sumthing wrong an dget hurt always worring that the little uns are going to kill themselves. We don't even know how many there are. Could be four dead already for the lot of good we know. No one wants to think that the ugly one is dead and that we can't control what the littleuns do. This isn't a safe place for them to be they should be a home with the grown-ups taken care of them. Jack needs a good licken from some grown-ups too. he ruined our chances of getting rescued and now he's taken all the boys and's running wild with them. He's ruining the assembly and is going to take over then he might even kill piggy for real. I don't think I should be chief anymore cause they all want o follow jack merridew now but Piggy says that Jack will kill him for sure if i'm not. I don't think i can control them anymore they just do as they wish and won't agree on a thing. We can't survive that way. We are going to die here, maybe from the Beastie. Piggy won' stop wimpering like a girl and I don't know what's going to happen to us. if only Piggy would quit crying and help me think, if only jack weren't such a clam. We could stay here and make it all work. If I get home my books won't be about wondrous adventures and heroic things i've done it will be about how people should never come to an island, how they should stay far away. It is not a happy place anymore it is full of fear and terror inside our own heads or not. I will write one of those dull educational books that grown-ups will like an tell their children about. They need to know that boys can become nasty kids if given half the chance. Islands are not pretty things with flowers and birds and sunshine. They are mean places where you have to carve out a place for yourself and make a home. All those frilly silly things they taught us in school back home mean nothing here. The hours I spent practicing my writing and vocabulary what good do they do me now?? I should have been hunting and fighting and learning keen things on how to survive. See what good my writing does me here? No one will ever find it and it shall rot away with no one to see the good words. It shall die here with me!