Yet I Crave

• Ennabel Cheong, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2016

Drops fall from above, plunging into my skin, hard and fierce. A shriek, followed by a series of screams, pierce through the atmosphere and penetrate my skull. The light blinds my sight, infiltrating and destroying everything that stands in its path. The icy thorns of wind impale my lungs, sending it into a dazed state as I begin to let go. Begin to give in.

My feet carry me faster and faster. On and on. Away from something, from everything and anything. From nothing. I dare not stop, in fact I can’t. My lungs don’t scream for air, my body doesn’t collapse and my feet don’t give in. My eyes open, but there is no difference. It’s still pitch black and the darkness seeps into my every weakness, every regret and doubt.

Others may carry the weight of the world on their shoulders but here, I carry the weight of emptiness, a heaviness you could never imagine. Here, I carry the weight of fading colours, rising smoke, a heart beating ever so slightly. I’ve seen it all before: the storm, the fiery red of the flames -oh and let’s not forget - the calm and serenity of it all.

One day, I’ll be there and carry you in my arms, carry you gently away. The same weight of emptiness, a heaviness you will never experience.
The calm before the storm.

Yet I crave for something more.