The Chase

• Meg Geljon, Grade 5, St Francis Xavier College
• Short Story
• 2016

Excellence Award in the 'Top Secret 2016' competition

My feet touch the cold dark ground and the bitter air hits my face like an icy sheet of water. I turn around, scared and alone. I hear the voices again and jump into a bush as they come closer. Then they stop, just an inch from me. I want someone to jump out of the trees and reassure me it is all going to be ok. But I know it isn’t going to happen. The voices keep talking. I know they are looking for me. They had seen me in town this morning and I have been on the run ever since. I can’t believe the situation I am in, stuck in a bush not even daring to breath.
The bush is sticking into my skin and as my eyes get used to the darkness I see berries hanging. I pick one and put it into my mouth, immediately sweet juice comes rushing out. I realize I am in a black berry bush. The more I think about it the more I feel prickles digging into my skin like one thousand bees stinging me at the same time. The voices come back, they’re muffled but it’s clear they are plotting something.
I can’t take it anymore! I have been sitting in this black berry bush for AGES! Finally the voices stop talking and walk in the other direction. Here’s my chance to run. I stand up quietly and run softly in the other direction. They can’t hear me, I hope. CRACK!!!! I stand on a stick, they know I'm here. I run as fast as my exhausted legs will take me. I run all the way to town and when I get there I run down an alleyway and hide behind a bin. The people walk down the alleyway. Now I can get a proper look at them. One has a great beard and is wearing an old waistcoat with a piece of paper sticking out of the patched up left pocket. The other man has black hair and is wearing worn jeans with a shirt.
“Do you think money grows on trees Bob?” he says.
“No Dave, he was just rich. Keep looking for the girl.”
I stay put, I can't move. The bin smells like an old engine and rotten fish, and to make matters worse I am stuck with my face mushed against it.
Eventually the voices go quiet so I cautiously step out from behind the bin, glad to be breathing in fresh air again.
Suddenly a hand is on my shoulder and a booming voice says “There’s no escape now”. Bob’s great beard is inches from my face. But then he smiles in a kindly way.
“This is why Dave and I came to your house this morning.” He says handing me the paper from his pocket.
I unfold the paper. It is my dad’s will, leaving me my childhood home. I no longer have to live on the street.