Veil

• Victoria Stock, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2013

I remember the smash, the yelling, the screaming and everything that followed. I remember the tears, beads of scalding water, running, trickling unashamedly, down my face in pathetic attempts to escape. I remember the terror, the way my horrified body shook as I crouched in the corner, praying against all odds that they wouldn’t see me. I remember the pain. The pain I saw in my father’s face, the pain I felt as I realised. And I remember the crash. The crash as they stormed through the door. The crash as my father fell. The crash as I watched my life cave in around me.

I knew what they were after, and it terrified me to know. I tried unsuccessfully to get to my feet, my quivering body unconscious to the demands I sent it. A small sob threatened to break the hold I had on my emotions. I felt my face contort with concentration, giving nothing away, being strong. The fear they emanated penetrated my fragile barrier, petrifying me from the inside out as I lost all control of my senses. Their eyes locked onto mine, and I knew from the steel glint held within them that I would not escape, whatever I was guilty of or not. I knew that I was the definite end to their false trail, the false trail that had been played strategically to my disadvantage. I was not the enemy. I was not the murderer. I was about to be the victim. Whether they were able to perceive this or not, they continued to advance upon me, taking slow, purposeful steps that sent clouds of dust scattering around the room.

My lungs constricted mid-breath and I fought the urge to splutter. I fought the urge to blink, or to look away and break eye contact with the imposing men. I knew that it would only aid them in believing I was the criminal. Their gloved hands clamped down hard on my shoulders, hoisted me up and dragged me from the room, leaving my elderly father supporting himself on the doorframe, crying, shouting, breaking with anger or sadness or both. My mind seems to collapse as I recognised my fate. My fate that is the dark and impossibly gloomy mass of death. And still, I remember letting them drag me down cobblestone streets. My heart was beating with the terror that echoed throughout my body and my breath came in short, impossibly painful bursts that sent my head spinning. My body, limp and helpless, was acting as though it's end had already struck.

And as my feet fall heavily, unable to resist the powerful propulsion of the men behind me, I see these images in my mind’s eye, dancing in circles, taunting me of the life I could’ve had. I see the moon, shining behind a light veil of cloud that softens it’s brilliant glow. A type of veil that obscures the truth. The type of veil full of misleading lies and deceptions. The type of veil that I know only too well.