Dawn

• Bel Nugent, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2013

I lie in bed, wide awake. All is still, the silence interrupted only by the sound of my own breathing. I am anxious, waiting for something, but I don't know what.
The sky is black now, with no stars in sight. It is late. No one is awake. It feels like the night is waiting, waiting for the opportune moment, but what will the opportune moment be for?
Then I hear it. It starts as a few possums, darting around on the roof. Then I hear an owl; two, three; all the nocturnal animals coming out. The night is now full of noise; croaks, hoots and scratching feet. I can imagine them all, talking and laughing, a withdrawn family saving their merriment for the dead of night. Just as it all seems to reach it's peak, the sound dies down, and all is quiet again.
Not long after, I hear different sounds: laughter, and cheerful whistling. I wonder what it is, but before long, I realise that it is a bird's song I hear, and the merry laughter of the kookaburras. I imagine all the birds as people, dressed brightly, singing gayly around an early morning campfire. I am happy, and feel like singing along, but I don't know the tune, so I lie there, still and content.
It is dawn.