INTER-TRIB CREATIVE WRITING COMPETITION

As promised, in our last edition, here is another winning story from our Inter-Trib Creative Writing Competition, chosen by Michael Mann, a celebrated children’s author.

Lower School winner, Leo A, Year 8 writes...

Christmas Snow Story

It was a bleak morning, the air was damp with misery and hatred as I slouched out of my great ugly bed, I looked out the window, and took a breath as I saw London as I had never seen it covered in a bleak white mist, the sun penetrating the white morning air as I took another breath, and another, and another. As my eyes acclimated to the light of the sun, I took a step out of my room, expecting a heavy black filth to cover my window. I walked down the sad lonely steps of my house, creeks reverberated through the halls, I was alone, I drew myself a cup of tea, thinking what was to come, what I would have to face. The dangers of my difficult work and my employer. The snow would create a dangerous drive but I knew I had to endure as the last straw with him. I’d been late for work five times enough My tea spilled all over my morning robe. Yes, it was time for me to change into my uniform. I put on my worn and ragged pants, buttoned up my beautiful linen shirt, and put on my cotton sweater full of holes, which was a vivid blue that stood out among the London regulars. My pants, however, were dark and dirty, just like the protesting coal workers who filled the streets. I’d stroll down those rickety steps once again. Down on my knees to that hard wooden floor to clean up my hot morning tea, I could hear the rats scuttling on the floorboards, eating away at what was left of my meal from the day before. I flung them up into the sink, finished off what was left of a stale baguette, put on my old cap, and left the home.

As I opened the door, I felt a great rush of wind on my face, and I felt like I was transported to another world. I took a moment, and I could feel my body slowly lifting, and a great smile appeared on my face. I’ve been known to be a miserable man, but for the first time in forever, I knew it would take a great disappointment to remove this glowing grin off my face. I took one step out into the very cold frosty morning, and I could feel the crunching of the snow beneath my feet, and then another, and another, and another, and nothing could dull the burning fire within of me. I felt like the happiest man in the planet, and I could hear the birds singing now. I walked with a particular stride that made me feel like a king, I seem to walk with urgency and longing to do well in the world. I saw the nearest dirty black revolting cab and hopped right into it, though my bum really did seem to burn, I was determined yet again to conquer the day. I looked out the window of the cab to see the London regulars slugging away at their normal London jobs I thought to myself I could tell there was a certain hint to them a certain misery maybe feel like Scrooge sitting there in a cab going to my boring job course in the end everyone in London was a London regular and I guess that included me, after all I was no royal, no rich extravagant man, I was merely an mechanical supervisor.

I arrived at work, another factory, another day. I checked machine after machine, these men had no idea what they were doing pushing and pulling and hacking and slashing then I came to the large VAT of acid they used to make clothes but unlike the others I could just ignore there were large clumps of snow in there. I knew it wasn’t supposed to be that way but I also knew I would have to shut this factory down. I went to the closest manager and asked him if he knew about this, and he responded by speaking to me in a huge, thick voice. I think this is crazy because my plant uses the latest technology and has the best employees in the area.

I advised him to shut down the plant, and I promised to inform Mr. Harkrodanald. My boss knew there would be protests, of course, but I was unprepared for what was about to happen because these men had been starved and had no money or food. They were prepared to kill for what I had; they had already killed for that job, and they were prepared to kill me. I tried to explain to them, but because I was outnumbered, they forced me into a corner, and I wondered whether it would have been worthwhile to approach them and tell them that; it is too late now. My face was dripping with perspiration. I could feel my feet becoming uneasy as they moved back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, my heart pounded, my lungs gasping for air, pleading me, no, just a bit more, just a bit more. I was back into a corner again, further and closer, further and closer to the pit of acid that had caused these men to lose their jobs, felt like I was being hunted by a pack of lions and then I fell down, down. I could feel my life leaving my body, this was the end no one would remember. I felt a scorching feeling on my skin, followed by blackness.