In “If These Wings Could Fly,” Chap­ter Twelve begins with a reflec­tion on the struc­ture of writ­ing, par­tic­u­lar­ly the impor­tance of a the­sis state­ment. The nar­ra­tor appre­ci­ates the log­ic and order that a the­sis pro­vides, insist­ing that each sub­se­quent word must bol­ster the claim. In con­trast, the nar­ra­tor strug­gles with poet­ry, feel­ing that it resists the con­fines of rules. The narrator’s moth­er finds beau­ty in poet­ry’s freeform style, often cre­at­ing sen­tence frag­ments that eschew con­ven­tion­al gram­mar. Mom’s own the­sis state­ment, “My life has mean­ing because he is in it,” gov­erns her actions, as she seeks val­i­da­tion through her rela­tion­ship with a sig­nif­i­cant fig­ure in her life.

In a point­ed dec­la­ra­tion, the nar­ra­tor empha­sizes a com­mit­ment to jour­nal­ism, under­scored by a ded­i­ca­tion to truth, prop­er struc­ture, and fac­tu­al integri­ty. Unlike the abstract vague­ness of emo­tion­al expres­sion, the nar­ra­tor is staunch­ly focused on clar­i­ty and method. How­ev­er, as the nar­ra­tor pre­pares to write a lit­er­a­ture paper for class, a per­son­al real­iza­tion strikes: instead of start­ing with a the­sis for the assign­ment, they set a per­son­al goal instead: “I will leave Auburn and go to col­lege.” This dec­la­ra­tion marks a piv­otal shift in the nar­ra­tor’s per­spec­tive. It crys­tal­lizes their ambi­tion and serves as a foun­da­tion for all their plans and efforts mov­ing for­ward.

By this point, the nar­ra­tor is no longer only engaged with the aca­d­e­m­ic tasks at hand but is active­ly fram­ing their future aspi­ra­tions. Just as the mother’s life is dri­ven by her emo­tion­al the­sis, the narrator’s deter­mi­na­tion to leave Auburn now shapes their pri­or­i­ties and pur­suits, moti­vat­ing them to excel aca­d­e­m­i­cal­ly, notably by craft­ing a com­pelling essay for the Auburn schol­ar­ship con­test. This moment reveals a crit­i­cal moment of per­son­al growth, empha­siz­ing themes of ambi­tion, iden­ti­ty, and the inter­sec­tion of per­son­al aspi­ra­tions with famil­ial influ­ences.

In Chap­ter Twelve of “The Choco­late War,” the atmos­phere dur­ing foot­ball prac­tice is tense as Coach barks orders, his voice hoarse from his ris­ing frus­tra­tion with the fresh­men’s per­for­mance. Jer­ry, bat­tered and deter­mined, tries to shake off his injuries as he takes his posi­tion behind Adamo, the cen­ter. The coach had set up this scrim­mage to show­case the fresh­men’s learn­ing against some var­si­ty play­ers, but the results have been dis­ap­point­ing, which fuels the coach’s fury.

The team lacks cohe­sion, and there is no hud­dle as the coach imme­di­ate­ly calls the next play, designed to coun­ter­act Carter, a for­mi­da­ble var­si­ty guard. This play is part of a tra­di­tion where star play­ers are test­ed against younger ath­letes, enrich­ing the lat­ter’s expe­ri­ence despite their unlike­ly chances of mak­ing the var­si­ty team. Jer­ry is acute­ly aware of his pre­vi­ous fail­ures on the field, par­tic­u­lar­ly the way Carter had eas­i­ly tack­led him, which stings his pride.

Despite this humil­i­a­tion, Jer­ry strives for improve­ment. He believes they are on the brink of suc­cess if they can just get things right. Call­ing the next play with a hope­ful voice, he springs into action, spot­ting Goober down­field. With a com­bi­na­tion of ner­vous­ness and deter­mi­na­tion, he exe­cutes the play, dodg­ing obsta­cles and focus­ing on deliv­er­ing a sol­id pass to Goober, who suc­cess­ful­ly catch­es it and scores, spark­ing cheers from their team­mates.

Jer­ry feels a moment of ela­tion from the coach’s rare praise, real­iz­ing the sig­nif­i­cance of the com­pli­ment in their chal­leng­ing envi­ron­ment. As prac­tice wraps up, and Jer­ry feels the joy of team­work and accom­plish­ment, he notices a let­ter taped to his lock­er. It’s a sum­mon from The Vig­ils, indi­cat­ing anoth­er assign­ment, leav­ing him to won­der about what lies ahead after this exhil­a­rat­ing prac­tice.

In Chap­ter Twelve, titled “Cry of the Hunters,” Ralph finds him­self alone and deeply wound­ed, con­tem­plat­ing his injuries and the per­ilous state of his exis­tence. He reflects on the hunters’ sav­age trans­for­ma­tion, recall­ing their descent into bru­tal­i­ty, as he lis­tens intent­ly for any signs of pur­suit. Ini­tial­ly, he believes he has evad­ed them, not­ing their hes­i­tance in the for­est, but he is pro­found­ly aware of the threat they pose. The after­noon fades, and Ralph, now hun­gry and dis­tressed, wit­ness­es a feast at Cas­tle Rock while grap­pling with the real­i­ty that he is con­sid­ered an out­law among the oth­ers.

As Ralph nav­i­gates through the fruit trees, con­flict­ing thoughts arise — he hopes to avoid con­fronta­tion, but the grim truth weighs heav­i­ly upon him. Haunt­ed by mem­o­ries of Pig­gy and Simon, their deaths sig­ni­fy the end of civil­i­ty as Ralph real­izes he can­not escape Jack’s relent­less pur­suit. His des­per­a­tion cul­mi­nates in a poignant moment of fear where he affirms his belief that the vio­lence was acci­den­tal, but doubts plague his mind.

Ven­tur­ing out towards the famil­iar beach, Ralph encoun­ters the rem­nants of a pig’s skull mount­ed as an offer­ing, a chill­ing reminder of their descent into sav­agery. In this iso­lat­ed place, he is again con­front­ed with exis­ten­tial dread and begins to sense the approach­ing night as an omen of doom. Hear­ing the trib­al chants in the back­ground serves as a stark reminder of his pre­car­i­ous posi­tion.

Lat­er, as dark­ness envelops the island, Ralph attempts to con­nect with Sam­ner­ic, who have aligned them­selves with Jack­’s tribe. The twins warn him of the immi­nent dan­ger he faces, inform­ing him about the tribe’s plans to hunt him down. This con­ver­sa­tion reveals their unwill­ing com­plic­i­ty and fear, fur­ther iso­lat­ing Ralph. He deeply regrets the loss of his friends and the inno­cence they once shared.

As Ralph’s sit­u­a­tion dete­ri­o­rates, the chap­ter builds to a cli­max. The hunt inten­si­fies with the tribe attempt­ing to smoke him out. In a fren­zied escape, Ralph grap­ples with the fear of being caught, reflect­ing his ulti­mate fight for sur­vival against over­whelm­ing odds. The tumul­tuous end­ing sees Ralph nar­row­ly escape as the island burns behind him, lead­ing to a cli­mac­tic encounter with a naval offi­cer who abrupt­ly ends the sav­age night­mare. This encounter brings a mix of relief and sor­row, as Ralph’s trau­mat­ic jour­ney cul­mi­nates in recog­ni­tion of lost inno­cence and the bru­tal­i­ty of human nature, leav­ing him over­whelmed with grief over the past.

Par­vana remained at home for a few days, seek­ing solace with her fam­i­ly amidst the tur­moil out­side. She ven­tured out only for water and brief out­ings in the sun­shine with her sis­ters, express­ing to her moth­er her need for a break from the harsh real­i­ties they faced. The grim scenes from the sta­di­um, echoed by oth­er women, made her anx­ious about her father’s fate, though she dared not voice her fears. Dur­ing her home stay, she played a vital role in coach­ing her younger sis­ter Maryam and learn­ing mend­ing from Noo­ria, while enjoy­ing the sto­ries told by Mrs. Weera.

Even­tu­al­ly, Par­vana felt com­pelled to return to work when they ran out of bread. Meet­ing her friend Shauzia in the mar­ket, Par­vana voiced her long­ing for peace, while Shauzia shared the dis­con­tent that ran ram­pant in her house­hold due to fam­i­ly ten­sions. They con­fid­ed in each oth­er, with Shauzia reveal­ing her dream of escap­ing to France, using cun­ning strate­gies to evade notice. Shauzia expressed her deter­mi­na­tion to avoid revert­ing to her true iden­ti­ty as a girl, which she believed would con­fine her at home. Par­vana, hear­ing this, strug­gled with the idea of leav­ing her fam­i­ly behind but also yearned for the ordi­nary life of a child, filled with school and com­fort.

As the sum­mer bloomed in Kab­ul, life seemed unusu­al­ly vibrant against the back­drop of con­flict. Par­vana noticed the mar­ket­place’s shift­ing atmosphere—no longer amus­ing, but rather a reflec­tion of hunger, suf­fer­ing, and despair sur­round­ing her. Sum­mer also brought the oppor­tu­ni­ty for Par­vana to bring home fresh treats for her fam­i­ly. She observed many traders and heard var­ied tales of regions far and wide. Through the clan­des­tine wom­en’s group, a secret school opened, with Noo­ria as the teacher, spar­ing some time for learn­ing despite the risk involved.

Par­vana’s con­nec­tion with the Win­dow Woman con­tin­ued, receiv­ing small tokens that kept hope alive in her heart. How­ev­er, an ensu­ing con­flict above her in the mar­ket­place and a mys­te­ri­ous man’s warn­ing about men’s busi­ness hint­ed at the per­ils sur­round­ing their lives. Just as Par­vana was about to share her wor­ries about the com­mo­tion she wit­nessed, her moth­er dis­closed unex­pect­ed news: Noo­ria was to be mar­ried, adding anoth­er lay­er of com­plex­i­ty to their already tumul­tuous lives.