Questions

• Isabella Samuel, Grade 6
• Short Story
• 2012

I recently discovered that the two most important things on the planet are questions and answers. Now, there are plenty of questions but definitely not enough answers. For example how many people on this planet could answer the continually questioned question of how we came to be? There is one person on this planet that could answer that question. Who, you ask?

My life used to be based all around questions. I’d always have a question about everything. I only just noticed that sometimes people would get annoyed by my asking of questions. I can’t understand why though. Without questions what would life be?

One night the continually questioned question of how we came to be was really bugging me. So were a lot of other questions. But I was tired after a long and hard day so I lay my head down on my pillow and fell into a sleep full of question creating dreams.

I woke up only three hours after I fell asleep due to a loud bang that had come from my kitchen. My heart started racing. I remembered locking all the doors and windows before I went to sleep so how could anyone get into my house? I had grabbed my laptop from my desk and headed out into my kitchen, my laptop being my only weapon. At least I could wack the intruder around the head with it if worst came to worst.

I walked out of my bedroom, my heart beating fast. I took a deep breath and continued through my house. I stopped just outside my kitchen. I slowly peeked around the doorway. My laptop fell to the ground and hit it with a horrible metallic sound. Standing, in MY kitchen, was a… something. It was the silhouette of a large dog, slightly blurred around the edges. A blinding bright light was radiating all around it, giving off an almost comforting warmth. I wanted to run out of my house screaming but something about the dog-ghost-thing kept me standing where I was with a broken laptop at my feet.

The events that occurred after I dropped my laptop were very strange indeed. I could hardly explain everything that happened in only one page. But I can tell you that when I finally laid my head on my pillow again that night, I knew that the constantly questioned question of how we came to be and a lot of other questions wouldn’t be bothering me again. For the so-called ‘dog-ghost-thing’ was not a ‘dog-ghost-thing’ it was someone (or something) that knew the all answers to all my questions. Now, I would tell you who this someone was but that would be breaking a promise. See the ‘thing’ that was in my house made me promise that I wouldn’t tell a single soul (living or dead) what this ‘thing’ was or the things we discussed. But I can tell you one thing; nothing is ever as it seems.