WINNER

By the Veiling of the Sun

You asked me once if I was truly happy.

My dear child.

There are many things I want you to comprehend.

Life is short.

A cliché sentence that has been is widely used on accounts that are inappropriate and thus, has been reduced to merely, YOLO. In many ways the usage of ‘you only live once’ nowadays, does not convey the message. ‘Life is short’ is a sentence that evokes thoughts that enable us to transcend into a more philosophical view of life. It is a risk that we are taking, using phrases for granted, neglecting its true meaning, do you understand?

 

Can I expect you to understand?

You are still young.

But your life is used and, I hope not wasted.

 

This is why such risks in this world should not be attempted, or so they say. Such risks could result in disastrous outcomes, and not to mention the impact of the aftermath. Which means a portion of life sacrificed to endure a punishment in exchange for a period of enjoyment. We now turn our attentions to whether that lapse of time is worth the risk.

 

My child, the happiness we receive during a span of time, you will find, that it is not easily shaken once bestowed. It is a risk to indulge,  the simplest of risks but one without a doubt. These moments we keep above all interruptions as memories. No matter what happens, happiness when granted is forever secured and we do not think less of it in the time to come. Within any moment in life, we do as we are told, know that. We do as we imagine right however the delights that greet us we cannot foresee. Some occurrences may fade away from us out of memory and time but do we remember the smiles? I am certain that I remember yours. To our feelings during any significant time at all, it is extended, never-ending like sand in an hourglass that flows into a bottomless chasm.

 

An eternity to what we are doing.

It is only when we glance back upon the time spent will we realise that the activity we just engaged in was just a part of a long strand of history that travels back to an inevitable beginning. It also draws ahead into the days that have not yet come. How precious are the memoirs of the hours handled but how small as well. Everything we do is a risk, I hope you realise that.

 

Live in the moment, child.

No.

Live in the moment and store it in the safest recesses of your mind.

You see a glint of sun shimmering of the grass and you followed it because you were intrigued by the way the rays are casted upon specially selected patches of grass. Do you know that this is the product of the tree loomed over you? No. You are carefree, never seeking explanations. Idly you pick yourself up. I can tell that you will allow the alluring of nature to overcome you.

 

“No wandering into the wild alone,” I had obstructed you one day…so you are choosing to defy me?

 

It seems as if you have made your choice. You notice how the showers of sun alters the shade of green in the leaves. Not minding the shards of the sun that would otherwise pierce your eyes, you welcomed it into your world.

 

Just as I did once.

 

Starting at a little pat of the feet you jump to touch a branch. You are not able to now but you will very soon my dear, very soon.  The cold wind of early autumn caress your face while it mingled with your laughter, along with it your legs moved faster into rhythm. The same rhythm as the swooping birds. All the colours in your world slides into one another with ease in your vision. Greens into blues, reds into browns , who knows what other pigments you saw. With it you run like blown dandelions, drifting to no specific destination. Why do you run so? Gusts of air play in your tresses whipping then upwards. In your ears I am sure the wind howled but only if you had the heart to stop would you know that the wind never howls. I was captivated with this image.

 

I think I now finally grasp the fruit of my risk. I risked bringing you into this world. What if I could not raise you up the proper way? Despite how agitated I felt, you arrived safely but more importantly you laughed. In that instant I changed from a woman facing emptiness to being filled with purpose and my wistfulness diminished.

 

I want you to be happy but I wonder if, in your small eyes you saw that your happiness is stemmed from a risk? You ask me if I am happy. For you I am happy. I was happy ever since that fateful day I saw you run into the veiling of the sun.

By Pornvarath Komolrochanaporn (Frang)

 

RUNNER UP

 

Taking Risks

 

 It’s snowing here. It always snows on my birthday. I’m turning 9 tomorrow. I’ve always wanted a dog .Every year when I ask my dad for a dog he says, “In your dreams’’.

I’ve dreamt about dogs forever, about dogs sleeping on my feet, a pack of dogs sleeping on me as a blanket.

“You can’t have a dog because, you know they leave paw prints all over the floor, the beds, the tables!’’

“You still can’t have a dog because it’s going to eat all of our money. A dog? In your dreams!’’. He always refuses. Never a yes.

It’s 6 a.m., I look out the window and the garden is like a flat, white piece of paper. “Time for school!’’ my dad barks and growls. I look out the window again and see a pack of little holes in the snow, heading from the gate to the half open door of the shed – my dad’s shed. They look too big for bird prints, not squirrel and not the neighbor’s cat because it’s too lazy and too fat to climb over the fence. As quick as a road runner, I get dressed and woosh downstairs. I’m not rushing so that I can go to school on time, I’m rushing so that I can go out and see what is in the shed.

I take my first step on to the flat white piece of paper and my foot crackles down into the snow. The wind starts to whine around the house. I wish I had the dog pack blanket wrapped around me just like the one in my dream. I’m about to go back inside the house to get my scarf, but curiosity is driving me out and into the snow. I follow the line of dalmatian spot prints into the shed.

    

“Hello? Is anyone in here?” , no answer. “Excuse me, if there is anyone in here? You’re taking a risk because my dad is going to be angry.’’ I hear tapping from the dark corner, like a metronome beating fast. I start creeping towards the sound. I’m scared that it might be a ghost or the monster from under my bed. I find the source of the sound. It’s a box. I move it with my foot and I see a furry, brown neck tie wagging around. Next I see a black muzzle and the pointy ears of a German Shepard pup. I’m staring at it as if it was a ghost. It doesn’t have a collar or a lead. It jumps and licks me like I’m a giant lollypop.

I should keep it. Can I keep it? What do I do? But dad will say no. But I can’t just leave it in the shed, it will die in the cold. But dad will just dump it out of the house. But I can’t leave it here; I’ll take a risk.

  

“Here boy!”  “come on!”, it follows to the door and suddenly stops. It’s afraid of the snow. It yips and yelps when it pokes the cold ground with it’s nose. I’ll pick him up. He feels as heavy as a birthday cake, but I still have to carry him to my room. Ew! He smells like a rotten sponge!

Slowly and quietly I tip toe inside with the dog, feeling like I’m falling off a 500m cliff. Careful as a surgeon I walk up the stairs, trying not to collapse backwards. This reminds me of climbing the high ropes on my last school trip. I feel I’m climbing to a rocky summit, and then I reach the very top of the stairs. The dog jumps from my arms and blasts into my room. Trouble! Did dad hear that? I gust into the room and close the door quietly. I’m waiting for his shout but I don’t hear anything except the sound of the dog tearing my bedsheets. “My dad is going to kill me!”.

  

“Hey, get out of my house!”, thunders my dad! Oh no, he knows my secret! The dog starts to bark ad growl like an arctic wolf. “Shush!” I hiss. It won’t stop barking! “Get out of here! Get out of here! Help! ” Wait, but he can’t know it’s here, there’s something wrong! I rip open the door to see what is going on with my dad, but the dog rushes out of my room and down the stairs. I take off after the black muzzled beast which disappears into the living room. I follow.

 

My dad is still shouting, but he isn’t  shouting at the dog. I’m standing as still as a slug while he is struggling with a man wearing a black balaclava. The dog rushes like lighting and claws the man’s arm. It bites his leg. The mystery man screams furiously and my dad kicks him as he is struggling to get his leg out of the dog’s mouth. He trips and falls towards the door. He clumsily crashes out and falls faces down in the snow. He then gets up and runs away.

  

“ Dad, Dad are you ok? What’s going on?”He doesn’t answer. He is looking at the dog and the dog is staring back. “Where did this dog come from?” Dad looks confused.

“I found him in the shed. Can we keep him?”

“No, we can’t keep it”

“But it just saved your life”

The dog proudly comes and puts its paw up to shake hands.

“Can we keep him?”

“But I’ve always said…”

“But dad he saved your life!”

Dad looks confused, and his face starts to melt into kindness. “What’s his name?”

“His name is Risk”

“Well, ok then, maybe we should take a risk. Happy Birthday!”

by Katrina Cobain Y7SB

 

RUNNER UP

Adventures in Africa

So THIS is one of Earth’s seven natural wonders – the mighty Victoria Falls, on the Zambezi River which borders Zambia and Zimbabwe.

There I stood gaping in wonder on the Zambian side of the Falls. The roar of the water filled my ears.  There was no need for any conversation.

I was anxious to see the Devil’s Armchair, a natural infinity pool that sits on the lip of the Victoria Falls over 100m high, but the only way to get there would be to cross the border illegally into Zimbabwe then find someone local to guide me.

For hours, I tracked through streams, shallow rapids and waded against strong currents.  In the end, I would have no alternative but to leap off a cliff straight into the pool. Exhausted, excited yet fearful of getting caught, I closed my eyes, held my breath and jumped!

It seemed as though time stopped and I was suspended midair. Moments later, I sat contemplating the risks I took to get here, just inches away from torrents of cascading water.  It was exhilarating! I never felt more alive and I would do it all again.

I was certain nothing else could ever exceed this experience, but I was wrong.

As the glow of sunset enveloped the campsite, I sat under a Baobab tree eagerly waiting for darkness to approach. It seemed to take forever.

When the last hue of yellow disappeared behind the horizon, I stomped out the campfire, hastily gathered my belongings and made tracks for Nunu – my trusty 4 X 4.  It was time.

Time for a 2 hour drive through the African bush in Botswana to the famed Makgadikgadi salt pan.

I read that the pan is all that remains from the enormous Lake Makgadikgadi which once covered an area larger than Switzerland, but dried up many thousands of years ago.

I knew that navigating the bush and visiting the salt pan without a guide was dangerous and illegal.  Night visits were strictly prohibited. There were no roads.  Only the sounds of the wilderness, the smell of the jungle and a thick cocoon of darkness that sent my pulses racing.

Nunu bashed through the treacherous terrain. Headlights struggling against the dark, she seemed to groan as she crunched her way through the dry, bumpy under growth, stopping abruptly to avoid the odd mud hut, wild dog, leopard or other creatures of the night.

“Please God, don’t let Nunu fail me now or no one will know to come to my rescue”.

That’s when I spotted the bull elephant with legs the size of tree trunks.  I knew that elephants foraged more than 14 hours a day eating as much as 300 kg of food and drinking over 150 liters of water. I stopped so as not to disturb it.  I was cautious yet fascinated being this close to the world’s largest land mammal.   When I thought it had finished eating, I tried to ease Nunu away from a safe distance.  I was so focused on the bull elephant I accidentally startled the mother and her calf elephant hidden in the bush. The bull elephant started charging, its tusks aimed directly at Nunu, the ground shaking from its heavy pursuit.  I hit the accelerator so hard Nunu surged forward like a rocket. I never stopped to look back.

Thankfully, it wasn’t long after that I felt the ground beneath me change as I charged past the scattered bush and onto the hard, dry, barren salt pan.  All sight and sound of the wilderness ceased. The only sounds left were the roar of Nunu’s engine and that of my heart still pounding from a mixture of fear and excitement.

I needed to catch my breath so I finally brought Nunu to a halt in the middle of nowhere.  The silence was deafening as I observed the vastness of the salt pan. When my feet touched the ground, I suddenly felt small and insignificant.  The view took my breath away. I was no longer of this earth but could reach out and touch the Milky Way.  I felt like I was living among the countless millions of stars – above me, around me and reflected beneath me. Space was tangible.

I stood awestruck and momentarily forgot the cold.  As I turned to admire the view from every direction, my skin tingled and I could see the warm vapour of my breath. Senses heightened, I started to shiver from the cold and possibly from the fear of getting caught by the police.  If I was found, I knew I would be fined a great deal of money, or worse, sent to an African prison.

I knelt beside Nunu and lit a small fire for warmth. I would sleep among the stars tonight, be at one with the universe and dream of the constellations.

Then suddenly, from just above the horizon, I spotted a tiny red dot that appeared among the stars. It seemed to be approaching, slowly but steadily.

My first thought was

“Police, they’ve found me! Quick, get in the car. Leave. Now!”

I looked again at the unfamiliar red dot and it seemed to be growing in size.

“Whatever could it be?”

I scampered onto the top of Nunu to get a better view, my eyes transfixed by the blood red dot.  The dot continued to grow larger and larger.   I watched it creep above the horizon and muscle its way through the blanket of stars.  Soon, it became obvious what it was.  The dot, now a perfect sphere, shed its blood red coat and took its throne high in the sky.  It was the Moon, illuminating the night sky in all its glory. I fell back onto the ground speechless.

For such surreal once in a lifetime experiences in Africa, it was definitely worth TAKING RISKS!

Lauren Storah 7AT

 

https://thoughtsofawannabethesp.wordpress.com/2015/03/02/not-really-a-review-not-ifootfallsrockaby/

Shrewsbury International School’s entry into the 4th FOBISEA Short Story Competition 2014

Listen

By Miu Miu Chanya Leosivikul

“Do you believe in magic?” she asks, turning to me, her wide green eyes watching me intensely.

We were sitting on a grassy hill. The sky arched high above us. “Yeah.” I say, smiling. I thought she was just playing around when I turned to her, but she was dead serious. “Can you hear it then?”

“Hear what?”

“The magic, the songs.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s hard to explain. I don’t know, just listen.” I strain my ears.

“I can’t hear anything,” I say. “What does it sound like?”

“It’s different, everything has its own song,”. I glance sideways to look at her, she was absently picking at the grass, her eyes bright, a faraway expression on her face.

She was a unique child. Clever, observant and wise beyond her years. I liked spending time with her.

“Like the wind, for example, it’s song can vary but today its lively and fun. It makes me want to dance.” she says, a smile in her voice. I didn’t really know what she was talking about. “And the trees,” she continues. “Their song is slower, starting low but getting higher. Like it’s growing taller. I like the sky’s song best. It’s clear and light. Makes me think of the clouds.” She was watching as the trees swayed side to side. Graceful dancers moving to a song I couldn’t hear.

I look at the sky, searching for clouds but there were none. The sky is the bluest I’ve ever seen. It’s endless. It is the perfect shade, not the washed out blue of winter or the crisp cerulean of autumn. But a clear blue with the slightest hint of turquoise. The kind of sky you only had in summer.

“What about the birds, up there?” I ask.

“Well, their song is quite energetic and fun. I know you’d love it,” She sighs, a frown tugging on her features. “I wish you could hear them too.”

She smiles sadly at me, the wind whipping her blonde hair around her small face. She seemed so innocent, so tiny, so vulnerable.

Maybe once, I had been able to hear those songs too. Children always seem to be able to see and hear things better than those of us who have grown up. I envy her. I wish I could still believe in magic. I had stopped believing a long, long time ago.

“Maybe I can sing something for you!” She says and her eyes seem to light up. She tilts her head back, the sun kisses her blonde hair. I watch curiously as she takes a deep breath. And then, and then, a sound graces my ears. She hums softly. No words, just sound flowing out of her. It sounds wistful and longing.  She stops and says, “That’s your song.”

“Oh. Is that what I really sound like?”

“It depends. That’s what you sound like now but when you’re happy, it’s more lively.”

“Oh…” I wonder what her song sounds like.

“Shall I sing the wind’s song for you?”

“Okay.” She closes her eyes and the strange overwhelming sensation pours over me again as she hums. It sounds clear and pure. It might just be my imagination but the wind seems to grow stronger as she sings. I feel as if it could just lift me off the ground and just carry me away far, far away to some unknown place.

The melody is wild yet calm. I want to run a thousand miles. It’s beautiful.

I can imagine a whole orchestra accompanying her as she sings. All the animals coming out of the woods around to play for us. A trumpet, a harp, flutes and cellos. The drums, beating steadily, the violins sing. The notes flowing into the next, as bows danced over strings. The clash of a cymbal. The ring of a bell. The chimes, glittering in the background. The orchestra of nature.

All the different, beautiful sounds combining to be one. To be as one with the voice of the little girl. Her voice is enchanting. I feel as if the wind would whisk me up into the air, to the sky and we would soar over the treetops until the trees were ants and mountains were as small as the nail on your pinkie.

What I can see is only a small glimpse of the wind’s song. There’s so much more inside. So much beyond the music. It touches your emotions, it wakes you up, it triggers the old memories that you’ve long forgotten.

I could watch her sing forever, drowning all my fears, living in my dreams.

She stops abruptly and looks over at me worriedly. She’s afraid. Afraid of rejection. Her friends, her parents, not really ignoring her, but neglecting her all the same. No one understands her. I feel the pain she carries everyday because no one ever believes her. No one does, but I do. “I wish I could hear…” I whisper.

I thought she’d be upset but she grins at me instead. “Come on!” She says excitedly. “I’ll sing more, we can dance too! I can help you hear!” Maybe, maybe I could learn to believe again. Her smile is so wide and she looks at me like I’m her best friend not her babysitter.

She jumps up and grasps my hand. Soon we’re running together, hand in hand, down the hill. We tumble down to the bottom, laughing. She’s lying on the grass, giggling like mad and so am I. I close my eyes. Then, something melodic and quiet fills my ears. It’s her song. I open my eyes, a new wonderful world revealed before me and I could see it because I believed, because I believed in her.

 

Runner-Up

Molly 7SF

The Knife

Sokhem was ten when it happened. As was usual, he was making his way up to the hills to collect scrap metal to sell. The area was once a battlefield, so the treasure was ordnance left over from the Cambodian war. It sold for one dollar per 10 kilos. He had just arrived at a platform near the top when he heard the click.

Sokhem knew immediately that he was in trouble. He had seen and heard way too much to not know that there, at the bottom of his foot, lay a landmine.

He panicked on the inside and felt like screaming, yet he remained calm and still like a gravestone. He knew that if he moved there were two possibilities. He would either get blown to pieces, or at the very least lose his legs and bleed to death, alone, on the hilltop.

He scanned the platform. He felt sick to his stomach, and hopeless. He didn’t know that the situation was about to get worse, much worse. It begun when pain shot through his right leg and cramp set in. He felt strangely nauseous as he struggled to stay still.

He thought long and hard, as he forced himself to stop shaking. Tears slid down Sokhem’s face, and he couldn’t brush them off; just as he couldn’t slap the mosquito now sucking blood from his neck. Thoughts of his flesh and bone being torn to bits entered his mind. He knew death well, like an old foe, as he had lost his father and two brothers to that miserable war. Looking into the sky he then decided there was no point in waiting any longer to make his move.

He had heard from some of the older boys in the village that if you wedged an object tightly between your foot with some brands of mine, and no one he knew could verify this, it could lock the mechanism for a few seconds, and you had a chance.

In his belt was a small knife, it had been his father’s before his death. It had a silver rim, and a fire-breathing dragon had been carved into it.  When his father had died, this had been the only thing that remained in the crater. Ever since, Sokhem has kept it with him night and day.

He pulled it from his belt and ever so slowly bent down. Carefully, he slid the blade under his shoe feeling the hard metal underneath. He felt around for what seemed like forever, sweat dripping down his face, stinging his eyes as the mosquitoes feasted.

click

He waited.

The blade had found its spot and stuck hard.

He closed his eyes, clenched his fists and took his foot off the device…

He opened his eyes, unsure if he was dreaming or not. Sokhem made a break for it, taking refuge behind some rocks on the ledge.

A loud bang followed rocking the ledge and the strong smell of sulfur filled Sokhem’s lungs. He looked around and walked toward where he had been standing only moments before. There, lying in the center of the ledge, in perfect condition, as if it had never moved, was his knife…

 

Runner-Up

Maomi 8PD

The Believer, the Skeptic and the Follower

“Hey, do you see that tree? The big bodhi one.”

The two men stopped and looked to the side of the trail they were walking on. The surroundings were very unruly, with leaves and twigs scattered all over the place. Robert glanced up at the huge tree that loomed over them. It had long thick branches that stretched out high above, each one adorned with brilliant green heart-shaped leaves. There were several cloths of different colours tied around the trunk of the tree, flapping eerily in the wind.

“Yes. What about it?”

“You notice how there are lots of colourful cloths tied around the trunk? That’s because it’s considered a sacred tree. We Thai people are very superstitious, and we believe in spirits that reside in these trees.” Dang explained.

Robert shuddered. No wonder the bodhi had such a creepy sensation.

Dang paused for a moment. “Do you believe in the supernatural?” he asked.

Robert hesitated. “I’ve always been intrigued by the idea of it, but I have to say I’m quite sceptical about these things.” he decided.

Dang shrugged. “There are so many strange things in the world that the scientists are still yet to explain,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean they aren’t true. In fact, there was a very curious incident about this very tree that happened a few years ago.”

Robert was instantly interested. “Is that so? Please do tell me about it. I know very little about Thai culture.”

“It started when a man came to this exact spot to pray on this tree to get rich.” Dang said, gesturing to the place where they were standing.

“And did he get what he asked for?”

“Well, weeks passed, and still nothing happened. One night, he came back drunk and went over to the tree with an axe to cut it down.”

“But obviously he didn’t succeed.” Robert said.

“No and yes. While he was hacking at the trunk, a large branch fell from the tree and hit the man, crippling his hand, which was so badly mangled that it had to be amputated. This resulted in the man receiving a large sum of money from the insurance company, granting his wish.”

Dang paused, letting the story sink in.

“Excuse me,” said a voice at his shoulder. “What are you doing here in the middle of nowhere? This is a sacred tree, and you shouldn’t be snooping around.”

The two men turned around to see a man standing behind them. He appeared to have overheard their conversation.

“Oh, nothing,” Dang replied, seeming quite annoyed by the man eavesdropping on them. “This is a public path. We were just passing by. Why do you ask?”

“Just my curiosity,” the man said, shrugging. “I’m Pauno, by the way.” He extended out a hand, which Dang and Robert both shook. After the introductions were made, Pauno glanced behind him, and looked up at the tree warily.

“I don’t see many people around this area,” he said. “It’s isolated, and it’s risky. Only strange people come here. But I do know a few things about this place, and there’s something I would like to do here.”

“I see. What is it that you intend to do?” Dang inquired.

“It doesn’t matter,” said Pauno, waving off the question. “Just tell me; what do you think of the man in the story?”

“I think he was very foolish to come here in the first place,” Robert said. “Praying to a tree won’t help you get your wish. If you want something, you’ve got to work hard for it. And nothing comes without a price.”

Pauno looked at him levelly. “I take it that you are a non-believer, and I have no intention to convert people like you. It will just be a waste of time. But just because something has no logical explanation doesn’t mean it isn’t true. Remember that.”

There was a moment of silence. “You still haven’t told us why you are here yet,” Robert said finally, trying to divert the conversation away from him.

Pauno sighed. “Oh, very well. I came here because I wanted to see this tree again. I definitely believe it to have something paranormal, you know. I have to come and pay respect to the tree every once in a while, or I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night. If something terrible has happened here, then it is best to stay on the safe side.”

“Oh? And why do you think that?”

Pauno gazed at Robert for a while. Then, in answer to his question, he slowly lifted his wrist out of his pocket.

He had no hand.