Oliver Twist With A Twist

• Beth Bruce, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2012

His eyes were empty and his heart was broken; no one had showed him love and his tears were filled with the pain of rejection. He glanced around and saw eyes overflowing with loneliness. He could feel everyone's suffering and the sense of love and self-worth was a wish of many.

He diligently marched into the dining hall picking up a dented metal bowl at the door. Boys stood in an orderly fashion as they waited for their dinner: a small bowl of gruel that hardly filled them.

In a few mouthfuls Oliver’s meal was gone; however, his stomach continued to growl as he silently prayed for a second bowl. As he stared at the empty bowl in front of him, he suddenly stood up, not quite sure about what he was doing.

He felt like a small wave in the ocean: isolated, unnoticed and slowly fading back into the crowd. But he held his ground and quietly spoke the words "Please sir, can I have some more?"

Spoons cluttered and the room fell silent. The boys watched on as Mr Bumble waddled up to Oliver's table, pride and anger in his short steps. As he got closer, Oliver slowly sank into his chair. He did not have the strength or the courage to face the man whom he feared the most.

He could feel Mr Bumble breathing down his neck but he had no will to turn around and look into his eyes. He had no idea what to do and he had nowhere to run. If only he kept silent just like everyone else.

Mr Bumble grabbed his collar and Oliver was unwillingly dragged away.
“Please sir, don’t! I’m just hungry, so hungry!” Oliver screamed but his cries were silenced with a brutal knock.
“I will give you more; more, this is what all of you rascals know. Children with bad blood must be hungry; it teaches them restraint and patience. It is God’s way.” Mr Bumble proclaimed as he mindlessly struck the boy again. Cries for help faded into the damp, frosty night, which had started with a bowl of gruel and an unruly, persistent stomach wanting just a little bit more.