Escape

• Nicholas Yim, Grade 11, Redlands College
• Short Story
• 2013

Excellence Award in the 'Dream Big 2013' competition

The boy ran like wind. He had enough of his new life. A white teenager chased him, howling, "Come back, you scoundrel! Dad will kill me if..." The boy didn't hear the rest. As he just went past the gate, something smashed his head and then, darkness...

Muttering and indescribable pain on his left hand woke him up. He realised he was chained to a wall. "You bloody Aborigine. Next time you run away I'll burn your whole left arm! You should be honoured, granted a life with white people." The boy recognised that the voice was his new 'dad'. Was he hiding at the front gate? Thought the boy. But how did he know I would run away at that moment? I need to be sneakier next time. It was the second time the boy tried to escape - and the second time he failed. 'Dad' unchained him and growled, "Now hurry up and do your bloody chores!" The boy had no power, and so he obeyed. For a week.

The moon glistened in the black sky. There was silence in the house. Well, it's now or never! The boy ran out of the house and went inland, away from his new life. When it was nearly dawn, the boy celebrated. I'm free! I'm free! I'm... Why do I hear a horse galloping? A hand suddenly jerked the boy off the ground. It was his 'dad'.
"I warned you," he snarled. "Say goodbye to your left arm!" Despair engulfed the boy.
Darn it! I was too careless again!
"Let the boy go."
Surprised, the man dropped the boy, and they both turned towards the voice. An Aborigine faced them, armed with a spear. Did he hear the horse? Pondered the boy.
'Dad' smirked. "Or what? You'll kill me? I guess you've never seen a gun before."

Blood was splatted on the boy's face. He was stunned with shock. In front of him lay two bodies; one with a spear sticking out, and another with a gun wound in the chest. When the Aborigine fell, the boy, overflowing with rage, took the spear from the Aborigine's hand and charged towards 'dad'. And killed him. I-I'm a murderer, thought the boy, bu-but I didn't mea-
"Boy..." The boy quickly turned his head. The Aborigine was still alive! "Follow the red dirt. It will lead you to our tribe."
"What do you mean by our tribe? Who are you?"
"It's me, Matari. Woorak...my last wish...is that you make it...back to...your...mother." Woorak stared at the man. A waterfall of tears flooded the dirt. The Aborigine was his dad.

After hanging the white man's corpse on a tree and burying the body of his dad, Woorak started trailing the red dirt, heading towards his tribe. I'll never forgive the white people for stealing me away from my parents and my tribe. But I have no power to stop what they are doing... I can only endure the pain.