A Chance At The Past

• Liam Zucconi, Grade 9
• Poetry
• 2014

Corey lay paralysed in front of the screen. Helpless. The blank expression on his face was swept away as the reality of another tragic moment gradually seeped into his conscience. Fear rose behind his eyes. He pulled the quilt over his head and isolated himself from the world. Overwhelmed with the familiar feeling of his depression, he closed his eyes and gazed into fields of nothingness.

Get up, 9:00pm. He needed to escape the confined area of his lounge room into the fresh air of the night. It was useless trying to shrug off this oppressive weight of regretful feelings. All Corey wanted was to go back in time, to see his father once more. To hold the one, of whom he had so many imbedded memories, close to his heart.

Up ahead, Corey noticed something the world seemed to be trying to hide. The shop windows sprayed light onto the path but concealed the small box that lurked in the shadows of the surrounding buildings. Corey’s desperate, helpless state compelled him to step up to the fortune-teller.

He placed his right hand deep into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out a gold coin. Could this coin be the difference between life and death? Corey heard the scratching noise as the coin rolled down the metal tracks inside the hollow box only to be returned. “Damn!” he yelled and sent his foot flying into the useless box. He took the coin and trudged away, everything seemed to be heavier, intense like a crescendo with an undecided ending. He slammed his hands into the fire exit door of the nearest building and began his ascent up the stairway. He wasn’t going down. Once more he fetched the coin out of his pocket. One simple coin flip to determine his fate. Heads, he jumps, tails, he walks away. The coin sat in his sweaty palm. He flipped it. Painfully slowly it somersaulted several times above his head and fell back into his hand. Heads.

Corey stood between the edge of the building and the railings. The muscles inside his heart tightened with incredible force, his breath quickened, sweat streaming over his body. The city below became a blur. Corey stood silent, reflecting upon his loss. Still squeezing the coin in his right fist, Corey opened his arms and fell swiftly.

But the hard concrete ground never came.

A familiar scent drifted into the room. As he inhaled the sweet warmth, every sensation of comfort and safety from childhood came with it. The time was 9.00am, the same day. When Corey saw his Dad, shivers of happiness rolled down his spine. “Corey, I thought you would have left for school?” This was Corey’s chance. He knew he couldn’t change what had and will happen to his father, but at least he could say goodbye properly. “I love you; Goodbye.”

Corey stood satisfied, staring down at his right fist still clutching the priceless coin, appreciative for his encounter with the fortune-teller.