The Flood

• Tynan Dugdell, Grade 6
• Short Story
• 2011

There Alex sat cold and shivering. He was on the floor of the rescue helicopter with the others he had saved. Normally, Alex was shy and withdrawn, but the past few days had forced him to become mentally stronger. He began to think back on what he had done…

Alex had been walking in the main street of the small, quiet village that he lived and worked in, when he heard sounds of falling stones coming from the top of the valley, where a natural wall of earth and rocks had formed over thousands of years. Alex approached the massive formation to investigate. As he neared it, a large stone dislodged itself and water shot out of the hole like a bullet out of a gun. This caused other rocks to burst out and the flow of water to become bigger and stronger…

The words, “Okay, everybody out, we’re safe now,” caused Alex to jolt out of his thoughts and into the present time as the helicopter pilot, medics and rescue workers helped everyone out of the helicopter and on to solid ground. As Alex got out, he saw several of the villagers kiss the ground, (particularly the older ones and those who got air sick). Alex looked towards the sports convention centre that would be their home until they waters in the valley receded.

Soon all the villagers who Alex had rescued were in the main hall, having the first hot meal since their valley had flooded. Alex found himself sitting next to Brigit, the wife to Doran, the local blacksmith and carver. “That was mighty smart of you, using Old Man Crookshanks’ roof and panels to save us, Alex,” said Brigit hoarsely.
“Thanks,” muttered Alex through the delicious meat pie he was having second helpings of. After finishing, he went off to one of the cabins the villagers were sharing, fell sleep, and slowly he entered the world of his dreams…

Alex heard a rushing sound and noticed that he was in his old valley. “Wait a second,” thought Alex, “Is that me?” “It is,” he answered himself, and then he saw a puddle of water around his dream self’s feet. He realised that this was more than just a dream, this was how his valley had flooded. Easily, he immersed himself into his thoughts and soon he was one with his dream self again. Slowly, the puddle surrounding his feet grew bigger until it was consuming the entire valley. The roof of Old Man Crookshanks’ house was weak from all its years and had floated off the house and towards Alex. It was upside-down and sealed from the panels on its sides, which made it easy for Alex to climb to safety. He was amazed to find tools and wood in the roof-raft. Quickly he made a ladder, and then began to make some paddles...


Alex looked around. He saw the elders kissing the solid, grassy ground. Alex fell to his knees and cried with happiness.