Casual Killers

• Grace Holness, Grade 8
• Poetry
• 2011

I don my dive gear, plunge down so deep. Into my skin the water does seep. I hear a call, so near, I see a shadow and draw back with fear. The closer it comes, the larger it is. It stretches on for kilometres. It passes by me, but a mile away, a sea vessel I would definitely say. I hear the distress call again, it sounds in pain Then I see it, the sight of horror, around its body, a watery squalor. Seeping towards me, sticky and wet the red creeping liquid I’ll never forget . And finally I see a glimpse, through a small swarm of escaping shrimps, of a whales head. It’s mouth open wide, it's eyes bulging and red. This is no ordinary vessel, it’s a whaling ship, harmful and painful. It's mangled body hauled up, dead.