Waves

• Kirsten Lowe, Grade 7
• Poetry
• 2007

The cool breeze ruffled my hair, the tall waves crashed against the shore. A shiver went down my spine, but I couldn't leave, she was still out there. I was getting goosebumps, but she was more important.
My name is Josh Taylor and I have lost my whole family.
I close my eyes, the memory is still painful, the day Mum and Dad didn't come back. Mum, Dad and my little sister Tara were on a huge cruiser in the Pacific when the tankers caught fire and the ship sank into the surging water. Mum and Dad didn't survive. Their bodies floated back to the harbour.
Every-one said Tara died at sea, but I don't believe them, she is still out there, I can feel it.
The tide was coming in; the sun was disappearing beyond the horizon. I was beginning to lose all hope when some thing washed up on the beach, I edged towards it unknowing. It stirred. I took a couple of paces back.
What was it? I got closer when I realised.
"Tara!" i cried as I ran towards my unconscious sister.
She didn't move.
"Tara, it's me, Josh, your brother!"
"Josh?" Tara asked scarcely a whisper.
"Tara! You're ok!" i cried. I hugged her, she was alive.
I sat on the beach with my exhausted sister and waited for the morning.
The sun was high in the sky when she woke. We had lost all track of time. Tara, who had gained some strength, was now in condition to leave.
We got up; a dingo's howl pierced the silent air.
Tara Was afraid, she didn't have the strength to fight a pack of dingos.
The alarming howl echoed off the sand dunes, it was getting closer.
We crept along the sea-line. I heard a menacing growl being Tara. I spun around; a dingo looked at us maliciously and pounced! Tara was the target of the dingo, i couldn't lose her again. I leapt in front of the beast; it sank its fangs into my stomach.
The pain was beyond compare! I held my bleeding wound; the dingo was coming back for the kill. It gave a low howl. It wanted meat.
A low growl echoed across the dunes, they answered the call. The whole pack surrounded us.
The dingo that attacked me before edged into the middle of the circle, in its eyes I could see no mercy, no pity, only hatred.
It lunged at me; it pushed me to the ground and opened its gaping jaws. Salvia dripped over my face, its hot putrid breath filled my nostrils...
I sat up, it was all a dream! It felt so real, I could STILL smell salt! I could feel something, something wasn't right... I looked around; it was Grandma's spare bedroom. There was nothing different about it, except the sheets felt oddly wet.
"Poor Grandma," I thought, "She still can't afford a dryer."
I felt a horrible searing pain in my stomach, I screamed! The sheets were covered in blood! And my stomach had teeth marks in it, dingo teeth marks...