Matchstick

• Jennifer Shu, Grade 6, Greenacre Public School
• Short Story
• 2014

Excellence Award in the 'The Text Generation 2014' competition

My story began in a dull, humid room where the underpaid factory workers labored endlessly. Many times I had seen a man in a tattered shirt wipe the sweat off his brow. Why and how they could work so tirelessly under such a dim hope I never did understand until now.

I took a last look at the smooth metal ceiling as I was shoved mercilessly into a cramped cellar. It was not very long before the other children of the fire were forced inside. We huddled together for warmth and exchanged words of friendship and happiness. Perhaps this was the only thing that could comfort me. We watched together, cried together as the cellar gate closed. That was the last time I had seen light since three years ago.

Perhaps it is times like this, I had thought, when you are trapped within seemingly unbreakable darkness, that your dream and the reasons of your life are established. For everyone, our yearnings for light were the foundations for our dreams of growing up to be free, and to finally turn from a teenager matchstick to an adult flame.

Occasionally glimpses of light shone through when one by one; when my teenager friends were led out of the cellar to achieve their dreams. I always held the anticipation in my heart that I would finally, one day, turn into an adult as well. So I never understood why they crackled with resistance and burned with fear and hatred after they were set alight.

The day finally came when the cellar door opened for me, one last time. My heart leaped to my throat as I was hoisted out of the jail, in all my glory. I presented my flame, a beautiful orange glow. I proudly roasted everything that the humans gave me, dancing gracefully among the dried wood. To my horror and my surprise, one stood up abruptly and splashed some water on me. I screamed with pain and surprise, the water slicing through my body like a knife through hot butter.

In desperation, I fled. I couldn't think. There was just one word in my mind. Escape. I hurtled through the hedges and piles of sticks wildly. Soon, I heard sirens and screaming people. Water cut into my body. I screamed with horror. I was surrounded, there was nowhere to flee.

Now, spent, I lie on the cold dirt. I have been such a fool. The dreams and hopes I had envisioned did not even exist. My race had been enslaved many years ago. I had done nothing wrong to deserve this pain. I was, and am no different to the workers back in the factory where I was created. I had worked and hoped for an impossible cause. My race does not deserve such suffering. The last spark of life leaves my body of ash as I utter my final words.

“Save us.”