Dark alleyways, crowded streets. That is the city. He never really knew his parents, in fact, he never really knew anyone. He didn’t have a name or any memories. As far as he knew, he was nobody. A random orphan on the streets of the city. The boy spent all of his life honing his skill as a pickpocketer. One day as he was doing his usual routine of stealing for pure survival, someone caught him stealing their wallet. The person knew who he was. He was caught. He ran. And ran. And ran. Eventually, the orphan lost his pursuer. But suddenly, he heard police. He was trapped. The boy heard the stomp of feet on stone. It was getting closer. And closer. And closer. “Freeze!” the police officer shouted. The intimidating officer came nearer. Even in the dim lighting, the little boy could make out that it was a woman. The woman, seeing the orphan boy, felt sympathy for him. “It’s okay,” she stated. “I’m not going to hurt you. All I want you to do is return what you have stolen and then I can help you.” He did as she asked. “So what is your name?” The woman muttered her name was Alexis, and then inquired about his life. The boy replied telling her his whole life story, not having a family, or a name. “I know!” She exclaimed on the way back to her house, “I’ll name you Kaul.” And from then on, he was adopted, had fresh clothes, and went to school. Even though he had a late start on education, he proved to be incredibly good at mathematics and English, answering some questions that properly educated kids couldn’t answer.

At the age of 21, he had become an amazing architect, and a handsome and wealthy man. One night when he was visiting Alexis, someone was banging on the door. A burglar bursted through the door with a gun, pointed it at Kaul and fired. Kaul’s life flashed before his eyes - from his cold and dark beginnings as a street orphan, to becoming an adopted son of a kind-hearted woman. He opened his eyes, and he realised he wasn’t dead. He smelt gunpowder and heard the police sirens in the distance. The invader had fled. A body dropped to the floor. It was his mother with blood pouring from her chest; it was Alexis.

He weeped for her, too many memories flashing through his mind that it burned. Alexis looked at him, tears in her eyes. “Kaul” she whispered, expelling her last breath. And all went silent. At the funeral as everyone left, Kaul was still there. He noticed there was a letter there that read ‘For Kaul.’ He walked over and opened the letter. Inside were the words written: “Kaul means family.” As he finished, tears dropped upon the paper. Family. The one thing he never had, but from now on, will never be without.

FOLLOW US was established in 1997, and since then we have successfully completed numerous short story and poetry competitions and publications.
We receive an overwhelming positive feedback each year from the teachers, parents and students who have involvement in these competitions and publications, and we will continue to strive to attain this level of excellence with each competition we hold.


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