War Of The World

• Tamika Way, Grade 7C
• Short Story
• 2016

The wood creaked under Tom's feet as he climbed up the wooden stairs, the sounds cut through the silence, a shiver went down his spine. A crow swooped down and landed in the open doorway, Tom was already halfway up the stairs before he realised what the bird was looking for. Tom ran down the stairs, wincing at the sounds as he ran, he raced across the living room the lounge was torn by claws... Why? Tom didn't know. The curtains were now in a state where they had to be replaced, the coffee table had one leg missing and also had claw marks. Tom ran on, the bird squawking just above his head, beady eyes fixed on the kitchen bench, a pain seared through Tom’s head, blood poured down his neck and on his shirt. Tom reached the wrecked kitchen and swiftly made his way to the bench and snatched up the club he had found in the basement. Tom gripped the club as hard as he could, tensing he waited for the bird. Almost, almost, NOW! He swung the club back behind his shoulder, with all of his strength, Tom whacked the incoming crow, a horrible screech was cut off as the club hit target. There was a small thud and the crow hit the ground. “Damn I hate them things. Stupid bird,” Tom said under his breath.
Tom heard the wood creaking again and realised someone was coming down the stairs.
Ever so slightly, Tom peaked around the corner, his heart beating so loudly he thought the intruder would be able to hear him. A small girl appeared around the corner, about Tom’s age, she had blonde hair neatly tied up into a pony tail and hazel eyes, she wore a dark green shirt and a pair of jeans. Tom looked in astonishment at the girl, the girl picked up a cushion from the couch and looked under it, Tom was surprised to see her pull out a backpack from under it, obviously stuffed with supplies. Tom pulled himself and his courage together and stepped out of the shadows. Now his black shirt and jeans couldn't shade him. He knocked on the wall to announce his presence. The girl whipped around and stared at Tom terror filling her eyes, sympathy filled his heart as he looked at her. "Who.. Are you?" her voice quavering as she spoke. "My name is Tom, what's yours?" he said confidently. "Kate. My names Kate," realising Tom had no reason to harm her. "Nice, what are you doing?" he asked, the curiosity taking over him, questions filled his mind but he pushed them out, he had to focus. "I was looking for food.." She looked down at her toes like she was just caught stealing something. "Oh, I'm passing by just getting supplies." "Really?" "Uh yeah," she smiled and looked back at her backpack. "Oh, sorry, want some food?" "Nah it's okay, I already packed some stuff." He smiled and walked over to the table and swung the backpack onto his back. "So where are you heading for?" Kate looked up at him and replied, “I'm not sure, where are you going? It sucks right, being attacked by wild animals everywhere, strange curses written on walls, villages ripped to pieces like this one." "Yep," Tom said lamely. "That about sums it all up." "I'm going north by the way," he added. "Do you have a weapon yet?" "Nope. Do you know where they're all stashed?" she asked her eyes brightening. "You could say that," a smile on his face.
"Come on," motioning for her to follow. Tom walked out of the door and onto the abandoned streets. Tom’s heart broke at this, it was only yesterday that these very streets were buzzing with activity, bikes, cars, teens walking home from the pub, children running around the front yards, yelling and screaming in delight. Yes he missed his family and friends but since the animals came and wrecked everything, everyone had fled to Wensly Village, the safest place anyone could think of, a castle and their guards to protect the villagers.