Barely Lost

• Natarsha Stroeher, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2011

Today is one of those days that is best spent sitting inside by the fire, toasting marshmallows. Instead I am outside, in the snow, wearing nothing more than a singlet and shorts. I was looking for my clothes. They weren’t on the line where I had left them.

“Mum.”
Bang.
“I know you can hear me.”
Bang.
Maybe banging my head against the door is not the brightest idea. Since mum is apparently ‘deaf’, I have no option but to stand here, cold. Suddenly, I hear the light crackle of something small walking through the snow.

I begin looking for a place to hide. Maybe I’ll dig a hole, it will double as an ice grave. To keep my brain active for the last few minutes of my short life, I think of how everyone will be sorry that they locked me out.

The sound of footsteps is fast approaching. Okay, I’m just going to stand here.

Now I am panicking. I’m pretty sure the thing that has been walking about is going to come around the corner.

I crouch down but nothing happens. I look up and see the tiniest of figures emerge from the bushes; I see it’s a small girl. The small, ragged figure walks out further.

“Where am I?” the tiny figure manages to say.
“Pardon?” I reply, as the figure continues to emerge.
“Please, tell me!” Her voice rings in my ears; the previous deathly silence has been broken.
“I’m lost,” she screams.
I reach for her. She slumps over onto my shoulder. I hug the small, shaking girl, all she can do is sob. She mumbles her name softly into my ear. “Miriam”.

I look at her and realise there is something that I recognise. I lift off her hood and see orange hair and intense blue eyes.

Miram continues to sob. After comforting her, she finally seems to come to her senses. She looks up at me, puffy-eyed and red-nosed. She’s been lost for a long time, judging by the dark blue circles under her eyes. I ask her to wait here with me until someone lets us in the house but she refuses. I hand her some money. From under all her cloaks, she sticks out one small, skinny, freezing hand and takes my small offering and Miriam disappears, now only a memory from the past. I turn around and grip the handle that had led me to seeing a girl on the verge of death.

Then I think about myself, how I feared for my life only minutes earlier, when there are children out there worse off than I am, and then it really hits me. I am well fed and living happily, with family, friends and clean clothing. All of a sudden my lost clothes don’t seem like such a big dilemma.

I apply gentle pressure to the freezing handle and with the slightest pull the door opens.