Wednesday, 10 June 2015

Making a Stand

The wolves chased me into the dense dead forest. I nearly slipped into the rapidly flowing stream, but I held my balance on a wobbly limestone rock covered in slimy moss. I continued on, sprinting over logs and twigs, each time only missing the debris by a few centimetres almost falling in the process. The wolves were snapping at my heels now, they were corralling me just like dolphins do to small fish. They all seemed to be harrying me to a certain point. And then I realised I was running full pelt towards the edge of a huge black granite plateau. In a split second I asked myself a simple question. Get torn to pieces or jump of the edge of the cliff not knowing what is at the bottom? I jumped.

I fell and hit the sea , which felt harder than the cliff itself. It felt like being hit by an elephant sized bullet. It took a couple of seconds to think about what had happened and what to do next, and then my natural instincts kicked in. I remembered the hungry, mangy, slobbering wolves, howling for the taste of blood. The only way I could get away was down, down into the water. I took one last gulp of air and then sank into another world.

As I swam I saw mysterious shapes, rocks with jagged edges. As I past them, they flashed like sunken lighthouses, only it was not an artificial glow, it was the kind of bioluminescent glow that an Angler fish might give off. Suddenly the lights began flashing faster, I was running out of breath. I started kicking upward but the sea just pulled me down. I really did think that I was sinking to my watery grave but then there was an explosion of light. I was out of the blue.

No, quite literally, I was out of the blue water, and in to the sky, falling more rapidly than my brain had said “runaway from the wolves.”  I  fell past clouds and mountains, my ears popping every bit of the way. I thought about where I was going to land, would I survive , would the wolves find me?  

But then everything stopped abruptly, and I was sitting in the hands of the most enormous gentle marshmallow creature. In him I saw all of the four seasons. He gazed at me with an inquisitive look through his great big black eyes and I looked back at him with the deepest interest. He put me down on the ground and I staggered away.

That would have been the end of it had he not have followed me. And then I realised why he caught me; he was lonely. From then on we were best friends. We played together and sat together until one day I sensed something was not right. I heard a bark and then a howl and then I heard their chorus. The wolves were back. We ran as fast as we could we sprinted across fields and scampered up mountains, but my friend tired.

We were at the top of the mountain when the fearsome wolves caught us, leaping behind him and tearing great chunks of his flesh off. I couldn’t bear to watch. As I ran away I saw his bloody body fall into the abyss. I was running again but this time I was sad, frightened. I wanted revenge. The wolves pushed me to the cliff edge, but I was the one that pushed them over.                      

The copyright of this post belongs to Roshan Khan (age 11)

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