In Chap­ter Four of *If These Wings Could Fly*, the pro­tag­o­nist, Leighton, finds her­self in the unfa­mil­iar ter­ri­to­ry of the junior hall­way after a mix-up with her lock­er assign­ment. The nar­ra­tive opens with her pon­der­ing the absence of the senior priv­i­leges she longed for, par­tic­u­lar­ly access to the Senior Wall— a social hub for seniors to con­nect and express them­selves. This long­ing trig­gers mem­o­ries of the many things she has missed, often due to her dif­fi­cult home life, where she had to pri­or­i­tize sta­bil­i­ty over typ­i­cal high school expe­ri­ences.

As she opens her half-size lock­er, she is star­tled by Liam McNa­ma­ra, a fel­low senior known for his charm and sta­tus as stu­dent coun­cil vice pres­i­dent and a foot­ball play­er. He mis­tak­en­ly con­fus­es her for anoth­er stu­dent, Lyla, whom he describes as his cheer­leader part­ner. Their ensu­ing con­ver­sa­tion reveals Liam’s awk­ward­ness and Leighton’s sharp wit, high­light­ing their con­trast­ing social cir­cles. While he attempts to explain away his inap­pro­pri­ate approach as a mis­un­der­stand­ing, she strug­gles inter­nal­ly with the resid­ual trau­ma of her home life, which com­pli­cates her inter­ac­tions with peers.

Their ban­ter flows nat­u­ral­ly, touch­ing on top­ics like the unglam­orous nature of foot­ball in their town and their shared class, Advanced Place­ment Eng­lish. Liam’s can­did views on lit­er­a­ture pro­vide a refresh­ing per­spec­tive for Leighton as they bond over shared class­room expe­ri­ences. How­ev­er, as the con­ver­sa­tion pro­gress­es, Leighton’s thoughts veer back to her tumul­tuous home envi­ron­ment, and she starts to with­draw emo­tion­al­ly. She becomes acute­ly aware of the emo­tion­al tur­moil she’s car­ry­ing and abrupt­ly asks for her book back, real­iz­ing too late that the fun of the inter­ac­tion has turned heavy with her inner con­flicts.

Feel­ing an over­whelm­ing urge to escape, Leighton hasti­ly leaves the scene, cap­ti­vat­ed by a wave of anx­i­ety that threat­ens to engulf her. This chap­ter unique­ly encap­su­lates her strug­gle to main­tain a sem­blance of nor­mal­cy while nav­i­gat­ing friend­ships and the com­plex­i­ties born from her trou­bled back­ground. The rep­e­ti­tion of the word “nor­mal” at the chap­ter’s end empha­sizes her inter­nal bat­tle against her emo­tion­al scars.

In Chap­ter Four of “The Choco­late War,” the pro­tag­o­nist, Archie, enters a tense dis­cus­sion with Broth­er Leon about an ambi­tious choco­late sale aim­ing to deliv­er twen­ty thou­sand box­es to Trin­i­ty school. This aston­ish­ing num­ber ini­tial­ly shocks Archie, but he quick­ly sens­es Broth­er Leon’s fragility—evident in his ner­vous demeanor, sweat­ing, and vul­ner­a­bil­i­ty, which con­trasts sharply with his usu­al author­i­ta­tive pres­ence. Broth­er Leon acknowl­edges the sig­nif­i­cance of this goal, ref­er­enc­ing their tra­di­tion of choco­late sales and the poten­tial for high prof­its by sell­ing spe­cial Moth­er’s Day choco­lates.

As Archie process­es the grav­i­ty of the sit­u­a­tion, he ques­tions the fea­si­bil­i­ty of the sale, not­ing it would require each stu­dent to sell an inflat­ed num­ber of box­es com­pared to pre­vi­ous years. In response, Broth­er Leon attempts to jus­ti­fy his expec­ta­tions, express­ing con­fi­dence in the stu­dents and explain­ing the dire finan­cial straits of the school, which strug­gles to main­tain oper­a­tions amid increas­ing costs with­out sup­port from wealthy alum­ni. The assis­tant head­mas­ter’s cal­cu­lat­ed demeanor, how­ev­er, does not fool Archie, who real­izes that Leon is sub­tly draw­ing him into the scheme, reveal­ing his need for influ­ence to make the sale a suc­cess.

The con­ver­sa­tion grows tense; Archie, aware that Broth­er Leon is appeal­ing for help from The Vig­ils, a secre­tive stu­dent orga­ni­za­tion he is part of, plays along. He feigns sur­prise about being asked for assis­tance while also rel­ish­ing the pow­er dynam­ic shift occur­ring between them. Despite the school’s chal­lenges, Bree aspires for uni­ty and rev­enue, allud­ing to the school’s assis­tant head­mas­ter being left in charge due to the head­’s health issues.

By the chap­ter’s end, the air is charged with ten­sion as Archie nav­i­gates his posi­tion with­in the school hier­ar­chy, ulti­mate­ly con­firm­ing the need for Vig­ils’ sup­port, which is met with sur­prise from Leon. This pow­er­ful exchange encap­su­lates Archie’s manip­u­la­tion and the com­plex­i­ties of author­i­ty, con­trol, and the expec­ta­tions placed on stu­dents in the con­text of insti­tu­tion­al pres­sure. The chap­ter con­cludes with Archie leav­ing Leon’s office, hav­ing exert­ed his influ­ence with­out wait­ing for Leon’s explic­it per­mis­sion.

In Chap­ter Four of “Lord of the Flies,” titled “Paint­ed Faces and Long Hair,” the boys adapt to the rhythm of island life, marked by the tran­si­tion from bright morn­ings to oppres­sive mid­day heat, lead­ing to rest­less evenings. The lit­tluns, a term for the younger boys, begin to accept their new exis­tence, often tend­ing to their basic needs like food and play while deal­ing with their fears, espe­cial­ly in dark­ness. While some of the boys engage in triv­ial games, oth­ers, like Per­ci­val, iso­late them­selves, show­ing signs of dis­tress and con­fu­sion.

As the chap­ter pro­gress­es, spe­cif­ic char­ac­ters like Hen­ry, John­ny, and Roger inter­act dur­ing their play­time near the beach. Roger’s mali­cious ten­den­cies begin to sur­face as he dis­rupts the lit­tluns’ sand­cas­tles. The chap­ter paints a vivid pic­ture of the inno­cence jux­ta­posed with the emerg­ing dark­ness with­in the boys. While Hen­ry feels a fleet­ing sense of pow­er over tiny sea crea­tures, Roger, lurk­ing near­by, begins to exhib­it preda­to­ry behav­ior, a fore­shad­ow­ing of future vio­lence.

Mean­while, Jack’s grow­ing obses­sion with hunt­ing cul­mi­nates in him paint­ing his face with clay and char­coal, sig­nal­ing a descent into sav­agery. The act of dis­guis­ing him­self with paint leads him into a fren­zy of excite­ment and a sense of lib­er­a­tion from soci­etal norms. Jack’s trans­for­ma­tion is cru­cial, as it marks his embrace of pri­mal instincts over civ­i­liza­tion.

The holis­tic approach of the boys’ exis­tence is high­light­ed when Ralph attempts to main­tain order and civ­i­liza­tion through a fire intend­ed for res­cue. How­ev­er, Jack and his fol­low­ers, dri­ven by the thrill of the hunt, neglect this duty. The ten­sion esca­lates lead­ing to con­fronta­tion as Ralph con­fronts Jack about allow­ing the fire to go out dur­ing their hunt, empha­siz­ing the strug­gle between civ­i­liza­tion and sav­agery.

Ulti­mate­ly, this chap­ter serves to illus­trate the ten­sion between the boys’ inno­cence and the chaot­ic instincts emerg­ing with­in, a micro­cosm of society’s fragili­ty when stripped of struc­ture and author­i­ty. The once-uni­fied group begins to frac­ture, indi­cat­ing the themes of loss of inno­cence and the inher­ent dark­ness of human­i­ty.

Par­vana and her moth­er returned home late at night after a vis­it to the prison, exhaust­ed and in pain from their long jour­ney. As Par­vana leaned against her moth­er to climb the stairs, she felt the throb­bing pain in her entire body, espe­cial­ly in her blis­tered feet. Noo­ria and Maryam were shocked by the state of both Parvana’s and their mother’s feet, which were raw and bloody from the ardu­ous walk. Par­vana real­ized that her moth­er hadn’t ven­tured out­side since the Tal­iban seized pow­er in Kab­ul, though her father had encour­aged her to ven­ture out and observe the world. He believed that as a writer, she need­ed to see the atroc­i­ties hap­pen­ing in order to accu­rate­ly por­tray them in her work.

Par­vana recalled how her par­ents often argued about their future in Afghanistan, with her father insist­ing it was their home and that edu­cat­ed indi­vid­u­als should remain to help rebuild the coun­try. How­ev­er, her moth­er was adamant about stay­ing indoors, believ­ing that while the Tal­iban ruled, her writ­ing had no pur­pose. After their tir­ing jour­ney, fatigue over­came her moth­er, who col­lapsed onto the toshak and shed tears for a long time. Despite Noo­ri­a’s attempts to care for her, she remained unre­spon­sive, even­tu­al­ly falling asleep.

The next morn­ing, Par­vana, still tired and bur­dened by the haunt­ing dream of sol­diers assault­ing her and her fam­i­ly, found some relief in the rou­tine of break­fast and chores. She real­ized that every­one in their fam­i­ly had to lean on one anoth­er for sup­port, and even in her pain, her sis­ter Nooria’s grumpi­ness light­ened her mood.

As days passed, Par­vana and her sib­lings grap­pled with wor­ries about their mother’s con­di­tion and the family’s dimin­ish­ing food sup­ply. Par­vana occu­pied her­self by piec­ing togeth­er frag­ments of a pho­to­graph of her father, feel­ing a pro­found sense of loss. By the fourth day, their food was com­plete­ly deplet­ed, and ten­sions flared as Par­vana insist­ed her moth­er should take action, while Noo­ria grew frus­trat­ed at her sis­ter, indi­cat­ing that every­one was affect­ed by their mother’s depres­sion.

Final­ly, faced with the need for food, Par­vana reluc­tant­ly took the mon­ey from Noo­ria, over­com­ing her reser­va­tions. She found her­self in a posi­tion where her fam­i­ly’s sur­vival depend­ed on her actions. With no options left, she resolved to head out and pro­cure food for her fam­i­ly, feel­ing deter­mined despite her aches.

In Chap­ter Four, the nar­ra­tive fol­lows a sum­mer filled with sig­nif­i­cant events impact­ing the lives of the pro­tag­o­nist and expa­tri­ates. The chap­ter opens with a moment on bikes, where the pro­tag­o­nist’s com­pan­ion reflects on the supe­ri­or­i­ty of a fast motor­bike, spark­ing a philo­soph­i­cal dis­cus­sion that tran­si­tions to their mun­dane real­i­ty. The pro­tag­o­nist then faces an unset­tling email issue with a col­league, Quentin, and receives a sur­pris­ing call from Vice Sec­re­tary Adela, indi­cat­ing scruti­ny over com­mu­ni­ca­tion and express­ing con­cern over their project.

Lat­er, there’s a shift in the sta­tus of expa­tri­ates as trav­el restric­tions are con­di­tion­al­ly lift­ed. This change is based on their abil­i­ty to pass an exam demon­strat­ing famil­iar­i­ty with con­tem­po­rary life. The pro­tag­o­nist con­tem­plates the impli­ca­tions of this shift, espe­cial­ly regard­ing Gra­ham’s dis­dain for mod­ern soci­ety, fear­ing it might affect their accep­tance with­in the larg­er world. Graham’s sense of alien­ation and resis­tance is jux­ta­posed with the desire for assim­i­la­tion, empha­siz­ing the broad­er theme of dis­place­ment.

As the chap­ter pro­gress­es, Gra­ham empha­sizes his strug­gle with moder­ni­ty, while the pro­tag­o­nist wit­ness­es his growth through test prepa­ra­tion and engage­ment with the Min­istry. Amidst per­son­al tur­moil, the chap­ter fea­tures social gath­er­ings orga­nized by Gra­ham aimed at boost­ing morale among expa­tri­ates, reveal­ing cul­tur­al clash­es and the bur­dens of expec­ta­tions.

A notable scene occurs dur­ing a lec­ture soirée in which the Min­istry presents dry, unin­spired con­tent, in stark con­trast to the live­ly pre­sen­ta­tions by the expa­tri­ates. This con­trast ignites a sense of cama­raderie among the expa­tri­ates and high­lights their vibran­cy com­pared to the Min­istry’s stal­e­ness, accen­tu­at­ing the jux­ta­po­si­tion of past and present.

The chap­ter clos­es with a din­ner gath­er­ing that high­lights cama­raderie among Gra­ham, Arthur, and Mar­garet, show­cas­ing their friend­ships and the evolv­ing dynam­ics amidst class and cul­tur­al dif­fer­ences. Con­ver­sa­tions drift from the banal to the pro­found, embed­ding humor and ten­sion with­in per­son­al inter­ac­tions, encap­su­lat­ing the fragili­ty of their exis­tence against the back­drop of a suf­fo­cat­ing gov­ern­ment struc­ture, leav­ing the read­er pon­der­ing their fates.