Sarbi And Her Tale Of Survival

• Kate Andrew, Grade 7
• Short Story
• 2014

I lay on my side, panting. My hind left leg hurt more than I had thought possible. My head swam with dizziness. I could feel the blood gushing out of my leg. Desperately I tried to stand, only to collapse. Whining, I slowly eased myself off the scorching sand, the remains of my leash making a squiggly trail in the sand. I dragged myself over to a partially dead tree that gave a little cover from the searing sun. I had to find better shelter if I was to survive the night. But first to make the journey I had to clean my wounds. I bent my head down and gently licked at my leg. Once the blood had stopped flowing I raised my head, it was almost sundown. I stared out at the vast, barren plains of Afghanistan, knowing of the bitter night that was to come. Grunting to myself, I moved off into the growing darkness. Sniffing along the ground, I trudged through the rocky terrain. A small, humped shape was just on the edge of my vision. Curious, I investigated. It was the ruins of a small mud brick building but it still had part of a wall and a sloped part of the roof still standing enough for me to be protected from the freezing winds. Exhausted, I fell asleep in seconds.

I woke to feel a tickling sensation on my nose. Opening my sleep encrusted eyes; I looked around to see what was tickling me. It was a small rodent, a dormouse. Growling at having my peace disrupted I snapped at the creature, sending it scampering for its hole. Rising stiffly to my legs I started to clean myself. BANG! Startled I wheeled around. There was a small group of men, all dressed in matching sandy yellow clothing that covered them from head to toe. They were all armed. One had his gun raised. The other men congratulated him and slapped him on the back. Finally they moved off, to collect the poor creature that was lying only twenty metres from my shelter. It was a large, fat cape hare. Then I realised. That could have been me.