Serendipity

• Alecksandra Favor, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2017

I bring the spoonful of cold, bland porridge to my lips, forcefully gulping it down, my face imitating scrunched up paper. Through my glasses, I see a plump boy a few tables away, snatching handfuls of bowls from nearby children, voraciously devouring them all at once. His face of satisfaction is suddenly replaced with gush of exasperation that stares straight through my soul.

“What’s going on frog-face?” Richard spits out in anger, as he reaches my isolated table, along with his gang. After an anticipating moment, Richard screams “Get him!” I quickly slide under the table, as Richard and his friends struggle to reach under for me.

“What is all this commotion!” Madame Margaret bellows from the other end of the hall.

A bullet of realisation hits the boys and they retreat from the table with Richard stuttering, “It... was Samuel. He...he ate my food!” His large, gruesome finger points towards me.

Madame Margaret’s face grows a deep beetroot colour, already at her boiling point. The sight sends a pool of sweat trickling down my neck, as she screams, “I did not spend my time at this poor orphanage, to be disrespected by an orphan who has no care that there is a turbulent war outside. Which, makes it easier to understand why your mum left you.” She vigorously snatches my glasses from my face and all eyes tail her as she strides out the hallway.

Nearly blinded, I cowardly make my way inside Madame Margaret’s office. My hands plunge into the sea of notes, weaving side to side of the walls inside a cupboard. As I dig deeper through the mound of papers, my hands finally touch a familiar object. I hastily yank out my precious glasses, spilling papers out like confetti. Once my eyes had adjusted to my glasses, I stacked the papers that were scattered across the floor. I curiously stared at a letter that had my name written on it. It read, ‘April 1942: Dear Samuel, I know you probably hate me for leaving you, but I did it to save you. Since this ongoing war, I haven’t had a stable job to provide you with a good life. But I love you, and hope that we shall meet again. Love your mother.’

Tears flood my eyes, then spilling uncontrollably down my burning cheeks. I collapse to the ground, clenching the notes tightly to my chest as guilt and sorrow dominate my emotions. Though a glimpse of fire catches my eye, and I peek outside the window. Then I see it; deeper into the dark secluded streets I see a dancing flame of an abandon lantern, its flames flick violently but gracefully against the raging wind. I let my thoughts wonder aimlessly, as warmth overcomes me. I think, ‘Somewhere out there in the darkness there's hope; there’ll always be hope.’ I still feel the fire burn deep within me like a voice calling out, as I disappear like a shadow down the dim streets.