If Only

• Hugo Turudia, Grade 6, Ashburton Primary School
• Short Story
• 2015

Finalist in the 'Read Write Repeat 2015' competition

The metallic blades of the helicopter swooped me like furious birds, sending not only my hair, but my thoughts in all different directions amid the howling breezes. As it got closer, as my fate came within a matter of inches, I knew it was over. My ears were being swamped by a cacophony of yells, muffled by the agonizing screeches of the over-sized megaphones, topped off by a symphony of robotic whirls and monstrous gusts of forceful wind, being powerfully distributed in a colossal display of fast moving aluminium, and a bright, firework-like show of flashing lights. But I knew I had to keep going,the big lights shone into the 16th storey of the office building, showing its deserted interior. The scaffolding desperately yelped in a fit of fiery, clearly agonizing, pain. I knew it wouldn’t last much longer, but I’d rather fall to the cold, hard concrete footpaths below than go back to the faceless, grey, alleyways where I miserably dwelled. The shiny crystal clear glass screeched as I perilously heaved myself up. The beefy bags of extravagant stolen jewellery jingled like a Christmas carol on my back. My vision was blurry, and looking down from this petrifying height made me feel weak at the knees. My ambition was clear, but my intention, not so, at least in their eyes…
As I steadily scaled the grey, droopy concrete face of the high-rise building, the wobbly, precarious construction frames creaking under my feet like an old, decaying door, rattling with every step, the thought hit me like a hammer. Why…shatter… why would they spend so much money on these buildings…shatter… when there’s still displaced people like us…shatter… living on the gloomy, crummy streets? My hands were bloody and cut, but that was the least of my worries at this stage. The cracked shards of crumbling, fractured glass trickled to the bland metropolis below like a waterfall, streaming from the mangled windows in a sharp-edged troop. It just doesn’t make sense to me, society today is more focused on building big new office buildings in the heart of an overcrowded city, amassing waves of treasure, yet they’re still not prepared to help their own kind when in need.
As I forcefully flung myself over the last ledge on the building with an almighty, thunderous groan, I was met with the sight of a cluster of blue suited, heavily armed police. The city did look beautiful from the roof of a skyscraper… Very different to down below, even if there are a mob of robust, yet unnecessary, police units in your way. As a multitude of glistening flashlights flared towards me in a vivid glow and an emphatic chorus of ‘Get on the ground!’ and ‘Police!’, the shouts echoing through the bustling streets below, captured within an accumulation of monotonous, uninteresting superstructures, I could only think of one thought, one thought, which stuck to my brain like it had been super glued there.
‘If only…’