Never Again

One hot day on my farm in Toowoomba, my best friend Clara and I were lying underneath the air conditioner. It was the summer holidays and we had nothing to do.
“Hey! Pia can you hear that? It sounds like trucks are coming up the street!” Clara cried to me over the slow buzzing noise of the air con.
We jumped up and raced out the rusty front door, leapt down the stairs two at a time and stared down the track. We could see dusty clouds of dirt blowing towards us.
“Let’s follow it down as far as Bedpans’ Creek,” I said, “It’s too hot to go any further.”
The massive truck roared along and the two of us were racing not far behind.
“Did you see the sign along the side? It says Tony’s Removals,” I shouted, but Clara didn’t hear over the noise.
The removal truck stopped at the old house that had been empty for years. “I hope the people who move in there are nice,” Clara puffed. “I hope we are!” replied a friendly voice behind us. I whipped around to face a friendly boy, who looked the same age as us.
“Morris,” the boy said holding his hand out, “and that is my seven year old sister, Jenny,” he said gazing towards a little girl not far away.
“We know nothing about farms so you’re going to have to help my family quite a bit! We’ve just moved from Melbourne,” Morris added.
This boy seemed alright I thought. Clara must have thought so too because she asked him, “Why don’t you come rabbit shooting with us? Pia and I go every night in the holidays.” “Alright, thanks. I’ll be over there at dusk. I don’t think she should come though,” Morris looked at Jenny, “She’d only get in the way.”
That night after we finished dinner Morris came through the door. He had walked up the beaten track to my house. As he walked along, Jenny followed him, ducking behind trees so she wouldn’t be seen. She thought it would be such fun to go too.
In the ute Clara’s dad turned on the spotlight and loaded the gun. As we bumped along the paddocks we sung old campfire songs.
“Hey, look I can see something!” I shouted. “BANG!” Mr Wood had too. The gun shot and a scream went through the air.
“That definitely was not a rabbit,” Morris commented. The four of us got out and ran.
“Jenny! Oh my gosh! Help!” We all stared down at the unconscious girl. She had a gun wound in her right leg.
“She must go to hospital, she needs to be airlifted now!” someone shouted.
A week after that, when Jenny was allowed out of hospital, Morris’ family moved back to Melbourne. They weren’t built for the country life. Clara and I made a pact never to take a new family hunting on their first night even if we were bored!

FOLLOW US


25

Write4Fun.net was established in 1997, and since then we have successfully completed numerous short story and poetry competitions and publications.
We receive an overwhelming positive feedback each year from the teachers, parents and students who have involvement in these competitions and publications, and we will continue to strive to attain this level of excellence with each competition we hold.

KEEP IN TOUCH

Stay informed about the latest competitions, competition winners and latest news!