In Chap­ter Eleven of “If These Wings Could Fly,” the pro­tag­o­nist reflects on the allure of brand-new note­books, equat­ing their unmarked pages to per­fect poten­tial, much like babies. How­ev­er, she acknowl­edges that as life unfolds, these note­books become filled with imper­fec­tions, much like our own lives. She express­es excite­ment about hav­ing her own col­umn in the school’s news­pa­per, though she strug­gles to deter­mine a theme while oth­ers, like her friend Sofia, are active­ly engaged in sports cov­er­age.

Sofia’s inquiries into the protagonist’s inter­ac­tions with Liam, a boy she has been con­nect­ing with, bring a mix­ture of embar­rass­ment and intrigue. Despite protest­ing that they are “not a thing,” Sofia insists that recent exchanges indi­cate oth­er­wise. This marks a piv­otal shift as the pro­tag­o­nist’s casu­al con­ver­sa­tions with Liam evolve into some­thing more mean­ing­ful. Sofia teas­es her about hav­ing a crush, while the pro­tag­o­nist is both flat­tered and hes­i­tant to label her feel­ings. The nar­ra­tive dives into her thoughts about the sta­tus of her rela­tion­ship with Liam and her ambi­tions, reveal­ing a more vul­ner­a­ble side of her char­ac­ter.

Amidst this per­son­al explo­ration, an idea for her col­umn emerges, inspired by the crows that fre­quent­ly inhab­it the base­ball fields out­side her class­room. She resolves to inves­ti­gate their pres­ence, recall­ing how their num­bers have even gar­nered atten­tion from local news. The chap­ter fur­ther unfolds to show­case her ambi­tions beyond high school and her desire to escape the con­fines of rur­al Penn­syl­va­nia, aim­ing for a future at New York Uni­ver­si­ty. How­ev­er, she grap­ples with finan­cial lim­i­ta­tions and the expec­ta­tions her fam­i­ly has con­cern­ing her edu­ca­tion. Dis­cov­er­ing a fly­er for a schol­ar­ship essay con­test, she sees a poten­tial path to fund her dreams, prompt­ing her to con­sid­er the sig­nif­i­cance of being “Auburn born, Auburn proud.”

This chap­ter intri­cate­ly weaves themes of youth­ful love, ambi­tion, and the jour­ney toward self-dis­cov­ery, estab­lish­ing a relat­able and poignant nar­ra­tive as the pro­tag­o­nist nav­i­gates her aspi­ra­tions and rela­tion­ships amidst a back­drop of per­son­al and exter­nal chal­lenges.

In Chap­ter Eleven of “The Choco­late War,” chaos erupts in Room Nine­teen when Bri­an Kel­ly inad­ver­tent­ly col­laps­es his chair, ini­ti­at­ing a chain reac­tion of destruc­tion. Albert LeBlanc unin­ten­tion­al­ly caus­es a desk to top­ple as he nav­i­gates the aisle, send­ing vibra­tions that trig­ger fur­ther col­laps­es. As John Lowe pre­pares to sit, his desk dis­in­te­grates before his aston­ished eyes, lead­ing to a fren­zy among stu­dents who glee­ful­ly engage in test­ing oth­er fur­ni­ture, wit­ness­ing as it too falls apart.

The noise esca­lates, prompt­ing Broth­er Eugene to enter and con­front the may­hem. He attempts to sta­bi­lize his desk, which tips side­ways yet remains stand­ing, but his chair suc­cumbs to the chaos. The stu­dents are exhil­a­rat­ed by the bed­lam, with cheers for the Vigils—the secret stu­dent orga­ni­za­tion behind the hav­oc. Archie, tim­ing the destruc­tion, rev­els in the spec­ta­cle, con­sid­er­ing it his tri­umph that would be remem­bered by future Trin­i­ty stu­dents.

How­ev­er, as the black­board crash­es down, Broth­er Leon con­fronts Archie, rec­og­niz­ing him as the orches­tra­tor of the chaos. Leon, vis­i­bly agi­tat­ed, accus­es Archie of fail­ing to main­tain order, tight­en­ing his grip on Archie’s shoul­der and empha­siz­ing his author­i­ty over the school’s upcom­ing choco­late sale. In an effort to deflect blame, Archie instinc­tive­ly denies involve­ment, main­tain­ing his usu­al defense strat­e­gy of nev­er admit­ting wrong­do­ing.

As Leon’s fury esca­lates, he asserts his con­trol over the sit­u­a­tion, while the crowd gath­ers out­side, drawn in by the com­mo­tion. After being released, Archie wit­ness­es the aftermath—the beloved destruc­tion that he orches­trat­ed, jux­ta­posed with Broth­er Eugene’s dis­tress. Archie savors the chaos that he inspired, dis­miss­ing Broth­er Leon’s author­i­ty and enjoy­ing his moment of tri­umph amidst the tur­moil.

In “Chap­ter Eleven — Cas­tle Rock” of “Lord of the Flies,” the nar­ra­tive intro­duces a chill­ing dawn scene where Ralph, Pig­gy, and the twins (Sam­ner­ic) des­per­ate­ly seek to rekin­dle their extin­guished sig­nal fire after it was stolen by Jack­’s tribe. Ralph, plagued by a swollen cheek and the oppres­sive ash­es, fights against the ele­ments, while Piggy’s eye­sight dimin­ish­es, leav­ing him vul­ner­a­ble and anx­ious about their dire sit­u­a­tion. They con­vene for an assem­bly, empha­siz­ing urgency to reclaim Piggy’s glass­es, essen­tial for both his vision and their sur­vival.

Ralph is filled with fury as he recounts the theft of their fire and reflects on the har­row­ing shift into sav­agery. Each boy’s role becomes more pro­nounced: Ralph embod­ies a sem­blance of civ­i­liza­tion and hope, while Pig­gy, despite his lim­i­ta­tions, voic­es the prag­mat­ic need for order and coop­er­a­tion. They plan to con­front Jack—Piggy’s deter­mi­na­tion to reclaim his glass­es becomes a ral­ly­ing point for the group. As they approach Cas­tle Rock, ten­sions mount, under­scor­ing the con­flict between civ­i­liza­tion and sav­agery.

When con­front­ed by Jack­’s tribe, Ralph attempts to assert his author­i­ty through the conch, sym­bol­iz­ing order and democ­ra­cy. How­ev­er, he is met with mock­ing laugh­ter and hos­til­i­ty, which esca­lates into vio­lence. Dur­ing the con­fronta­tion, Pig­gy tries to advo­cate for peace using the conch, but chaos ensues, cul­mi­nat­ing in a trag­ic and vio­lent out­burst; Pig­gy is struck and killed when a boul­der is pushed by Roger, sym­bol­iz­ing the com­plete col­lapse of any civ­i­lized order among the boys. Ralph’s real­iza­tion of the loss of Pig­gy and the destruc­tion of the conch high­lights the ulti­mate tri­umph of bru­tal­i­ty over civ­i­liza­tion, leav­ing Ralph iso­lat­ed, fear­ful, and con­sumed by despair amidst the rem­nants of inno­cence oblit­er­at­ed by the pri­mal instincts unleashed with­in them .

In Chap­ter Eleven of “The Bread­win­ner,” we wit­ness an intense emo­tion­al exchange between Par­vana and her fam­i­ly after she returns home wet and disheveled. Her moth­er, alarmed by Par­vana’s absence dur­ing lunch, ques­tions her, reveal­ing the fam­i­ly’s fear of her poten­tial arrest. Par­vana, over­whelmed, has a moment of vul­ner­a­bil­i­ty and breaks down before shar­ing the shock­ing truth of her day: she had been dig­ging up graves. Her rev­e­la­tion sparks a mix of hor­ror and res­ig­na­tion among her fam­i­ly about the dire cir­cum­stances in Afghanistan, where such des­per­ate mea­sures are need­ed to feed their fam­i­lies.

Mrs. Weera ratio­nal­izes the use of bones for var­i­ous pur­pos­es, includ­ing chick­en feed and soap, high­light­ing the com­mod­i­fi­ca­tion of human remains in a soci­ety strick­en by pover­ty. Par­vana dis­plays the mon­ey she made from her grim work, prompt­ing a dis­cus­sion about the family’s finances and the need for Par­vana to con­tin­ue work­ing rather than return­ing to her pre­vi­ous job of read­ing let­ters. Noo­ria sur­pris­ing­ly sides with Par­vana, not­ing the fam­i­ly’s dwin­dling resources and argu­ing for her right to help secure extra mon­ey.

Ulti­mate­ly, Moth­er reluc­tant­ly accepts Parvana’s deci­sion to con­tin­ue her new line of work, upon the con­di­tion that Par­vana reports back to her. As Par­vana embarks on this new ven­ture, she and her friend Shauzia decide to sell light­weight items like cig­a­rettes and gum instead of pur­su­ing fur­ther grave dig­ging. Their spir­its lift as they focus on sell­ing in mar­kets and dur­ing events, and they begin to earn a decent liv­ing.

Their entre­pre­neur­ial jour­ney takes a dark turn when they decide to sell their wares at a soc­cer game. Instead of the expect­ed excite­ment, they encounter a hor­rif­ic pub­lic exe­cu­tion by the Tal­iban, where thieves are bru­tal­ly pun­ished. Par­vana and Shauzia are par­a­lyzed by fear as they wit­ness the vio­lence unfold, with Par­vana’s glimpses of the grue­some spec­ta­cle stark­ly con­trast­ing her hopes for a bet­ter life. The chap­ter clos­es with a kind stranger help­ing them escape the grue­some scene, rein­forc­ing the per­va­sive sense of fear yet the lin­ger­ing hope for a return to nor­mal­cy amidst the chaos.