George

• Olivia Alldrick, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2013

Lying upon the cornice of the shattered glass wall, striking itself into position, sat the un-delivered letter. The question was, who was it for? Who attempted to deliver it?
It was a curious question; then again everything was very fascinating to George. At that time, his eyes lay riveted on the piece of paper that had came before him in his provisional vision. As his eyes were glued onto the paper, his mind started racing back and forth, and ideas came through his mind; snow fell onto his pallid face, and his chestnut hair bristled though the morning breeze.
Ah the sunrise, George would think every first brightening, just gazing up at the early morning sky waiting for the sun to rise and set the new day ahead for him. He found it relaxing, and calm to listen to the crickets chirping and the breezes flowing as he would sit on the front steps outside.
But he knocked himself back into reality; he then took a glance at his parent’s bedroom window. The house was still sleeping; he felt relieved and took the sudden urge to race over to the glass wall that was just across the street. The glass wall had been broken for years, originally it was used for painting notices on, but no one ever really bothered to fix it after it had been smashed.
As George ran down the steps and was about to cross the road, a car had came out of nowhere and sped off down the road, making George come to a sudden halt, nearly losing his balance, and sending his heart racing rapidly.
Out of shock, and reaction, George stood frozen for a few long seconds, until his heart knocked him back into life. Eventually after watching the van accelerate off, he continued to go on as if nothing had occurred.
Although, now he was more aware of the fact that even though the time is exceptionally early, even at the crack of dawn, cars are still a vital danger when crossing the road. Before his cold, trembling hands could reach the note he heard a familiar sounding car a bit further off, screeching down the road at top speed with the engine rambling on.
It was just out of suspicion that he turned to see what it was, but the note had slipped from the broken glass and freed itself and flew off into the wind. It was this that had caught his attention and as he twisted his body to grab at the note before it got too ahead of him, his coat got caught on some glass sticking out, which swung George in reverse slamming his back into the glass. With excruciating pain, he fell back forward into the white blanket of snow which was now bloodied. Trying to regain his balance as he stood back up clenching his back, holding pressure on the wound, his eyes kept riveted on the note that spun into the wheel of the car which had now pulled over.
Unfortunately to George, it wasn’t the friendly look of reassurance and help; it was the look of evil... The face of a depraved victim.... The face of someone whom George had sworn never to look into the eyes of....
A nightmare coming true.....