Void

• Madison Farquhar, Grade 7
• Short Story
• 2015

Jacquie was just a 9th grader at St. Alban’s Secondary College. She was walking home from what she considered ‘The Most Boring Monday To Ever Occur’. She cringed at the sight of yet another act of extortion by the tougher guys at her school.
She put in her earphones and started listening to Cedarwood Road by U2. Jacquie had wavy, bright-red hair that went down to the bottom of her ribs. She wore a black NYC snapback, a tight-fitting cream jumper, bold denim shorts, stockings, and maroon leather combats. Her camo backpack bulged with textbooks and she reluctantly started walking towards her tram stop. It was a cloudy and crisp Autumn day, but Jacquie grimaced as she realised she’d missed her tram. She cursed because now she’d have to wait another 15 minutes.
“Heyyy babyyy,” three horribly drunk 10th graders trundled towards her.
“Sod off, you booze-buckets,” Jacquie said defiantly.
“Come on girl, you lookin’ hella fine,” the drunks persisted, and the leader kissed her hand with his yellow, smoke infused lips. Jacquie pulled away, visibly disgusted.
“Get away from me you creeps!” But they only inched closer towards her, grinning madly.
“All we want is a kiss.” Unfortunately for the 10th graders, Jacquie was 2nd dan black belt, and as the leader puckered up, she thrust her palm into his face and sent him cowering on the floor in foetal position with a broken nose. Drunk #2 swung a clumsy punch. Jacquie ducked with ease, then she swung around with a roundhouse kick to the ribs. Drunk #3 was sober enough to realise he couldn’t beat her, and ran away.
The tram pulled up to the stop, and Jacquie hopped on and stood near the back. She examined the endless array of graffiti and wondered why people couldn't just be decent. After four stops, she exited the tram and walked up to her door. She went to put her key into the lock of her Victorian-style home, only to realise it was open.
‘Weird,’ she thought. Jacquie stepped through the door, locked it and walked into the kitchen.
"Oh my god!" Jacquie's mother lay in the middle of the floor with a huge red stain in her shirt. She fell to the floor in shock, then dumped her bag and checked her mother's vitals.
"This can't be happening..." Jacquie whimpered. Her mother was dead.
"HANDS UP!" screamed a voice behind her, and she fearfully complied.
"STAND UP AND TURN AROUND, SLOWLY." Jacquie did so, and faced the masked intruder with tears flooding her usually tough demeanour. The masked man pointed a handgun at her and was holding what she guessed was a bag of valuables. She decisively spun forward and grabbed the gun.
"You won't fire that girlie, you don't have the gu-" BANG! He dropped to the floor. Jacquie shuddered and let go of the gun. She dialled 000 and sobbed, "Why do people have such twisted minds?” as the darkness entangled her soul.