When April Came

• Mirjana Savic, Grade 9, Buckley Park College
• Short Story
• 2015

Excellence Award in the 'Read Write Repeat 2015' competition

‘There it was, the long body of water, curling into an arched form then breaking on the shore, and the stars casting small vivid figures on the blankets of water. The bitter waves were circling around my raw ankles, dancing back and forth against my feet leaving what looked like frothy milk on my rolled up jeans. The muscles in my fingers were loose, running through the vigorous water, brushing the wet sand, itching my skin. Under my fingernails, lay the grits from the sand, and on my palm the salts from the ocean. The darkened waters kept on rolling onto my feet and passed onto the higher sand dunes. I squished my toes into the sand, feeling my toes move and then I ran. Ran, and didn’t stop.’
The ceiling that I looked up at was ruptured; it had mouldy edges and had no sustaining shape. Its white colouring had turned into more of a pungent cream colour. The hallways were engulfed in childish murals, discoloured, and the paint applied with an uneven texture. I had a lump in my throat. I wanted to go home. You could tell that there was a rush yet it was not seen. Every room had an open door; the doors were a pale dark blue colour, with numbers located on the wall. There were grey vents on the bottom of the doors and the handles were duly sanitized.
I looked over and there he lay, hand in hand with his wife, in the old hospital bed, which made noises every time there was movement. In his eyes there was desperation for life, but in his mind there was determination for living. But it was the malignant growth inside of him, uncontrollable, spreading through his body, taking over, that made him gain more determination to live. Determination to try anything to fight the living death in his body, he knows that It will never take over his soul, and will never take over his mind.
The doctor came in and analyzed his body.
I went into a daze, trying to forget about everything around me ‘...the stars casting small vivid figures on the blankets of water. The bitter waves were circling around my raw ankles, dancing back and forth against my feet leaving what looked like frothy milk on my rolled up jeans. The muscles in my fin...’ I woke up with faces in mine, all distraught and pale. Their speech slurred.