Deadly Detention

• Jerry Du, Grade 6
• Poetry
• 2011

Rain plummeted from the sky like arrows in a medieval siege. Grey clouds hung in the sky like puppets. The night sky was a blanket of black. The shadowy figure staggered towards him. One step closer – what was he holding? Another step closer – it looked wooden. One more – was it... oh no! He tried running but he stumbled. It was too slippery. How had I gotten into this mess anyway?

It all started when I was walking home from school. But I was late because of detention. No sooner had I walked away from the building, dark clouds insidiously formed. Something sinister was brooding.

When I came to the park, lethal pins of panic penetrated my very soul. Peril pounded relentlessly on my brain like a baton on a big, bass drum. The figure was carrying a weapon. He was walking towards me. I edged away. He walked closer and closer still. My little steps turned into a run. But then a man came out of an alley and kidnapped me.
“Help me!” I shouted but no-one could hear me in the rain. Then the man who was pursuing me raised the baseball bat and knocked me out...

When I woke up I found myself in a bed but it wasn’t mine. A tangled mass of confusion captured my mind. I moved out of bed, looked into the mirror and saw a blotchy bruise on my forehead. Then in came a man.
“Well, good morning. My, that’s a mighty big bruise if I ever saw one! Why don’t you come into the living room for some lemonade?”
“Uh... ok.”
Then I followed him into the living room, brain full of questions.
“Just wait here and I’ll get you a nice, refreshing lemonade.”
“Ok. But... um... who are you?”
“Well after you were knocked out, I gave the kidnappers a little talkin’ to and got you back here.”
“Oh... ok.”
Then a clatter and a rattle of cups occurred. While I was waiting for the man to make the lemonade I looked around the living room. The dog was sleeping soundly and so was the vivid yellow canary as it roosted inside the cage. Then the man returned with a cup of lemonade.
“Here you go. I’ll be right back.”
I picked up the cup and tasted the beverage. It was strange – acidy perhaps? Another sip – did that bird have stitches under the wing? – sip – and was the dog actually breathing? Everything started to go a little fuzzy... as realisation descended on me like a brick in water – just as the man returned...

With eyes of steel the taxidermist entered. I struggled with my thoughts: gleaming tray – menacing –heinous grin – scant air - spiked lemonade – glinting metal – laugh of steel – heart aches – neat stitches – dog – black void... falling... falling... falling...

After that the taxidermist carried the body affectionately to a bedroom where he laid me down.
“Think of it this way, you won’t ever have to endure a detention again!”