Happy New Year

• Bridget Shapter, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2013

The page was blank.
Until I arrived, pen in hand and mind filled with ideas.
The ink spilled across the page and somehow, in my messy handwriting they formed words which read:
‘ New Year’s Resolutions 2014’ (I underlined it for good measure).
Underneath those words, I made a list. It read:
• Get fit!!!
• Stop eating chocolate!!!
• Spend less time on Facebook!!!
• Lose weight!!!
The last one is the most important. It’s socially unacceptable to enter year ten over fifty kilograms. Unfortunately I was fifty-one kg’s so obviously that fat HAD to go!
I sat back to admire my handiwork. I was proud. This year was MY year. I was going to complete these. Of course. Everyone always does.
Suddenly my younger brother ran into the room, butchers knife in hand, violent thoughts running through his head from all the video games he plays. He saw me at my desk and lunged. The knife plunged into my waist; tip first, blood shooting out of me in all directions. I didn’t have time to be shocked or scream before he ran around me, digging the knife in deeper and cutting around my waist. My floor was covered with sticky, red blood and my vision was going blurry. I slumped forward on the desk reaching with my hand to feel the cut. It was deep but I guess it could be worse. Right?
It was like he could read my mind. My brother dug the knife in again, hitting my organs. Fresh pain jolted through me. Stars were popping in front of my eyes and it felt like midnight all over again. My scream rippled through the silence followed by my brothers laughter as he cut my waist away from my legs and lower body.
He looked over the dead body of his sister and read the list.
“Well, technically she’s lost weight.” And then he left the room, bloodied knife in hand and the two halves of my body drooping on the ground and over my chair.
Happy New Year.