Taken

• Griffin Sampson, Grade 4
• Short Story
• 2016

Shhh! As the white, brown clouds sail on the shore. Who are these people? What are they doing here? Why are they setting up stick less tepees? I thought.
Stomp, stomp, stomp. As people trod up to our camp. We set up traps and get spear ready. We see nothing but lush trees with torn bark made from bull ants. Tall, green, overgrowing grass covers the ground. I go to talk to my family.
“I’m scared,” Mumbled my daughter.
“They won’t hurt us right?” Exclaimed my worried son in our native tongue.
Crash! As a tepee falls into the fire. Suddenly a group of people emerge from behind where the tepee used to be.
“Kids follow me quick!” I shout at the top of my lungs. But I hear no reply. Tears pour from my eyes I know they are as gone as the animals we have hunted and eaten. I must go on. I must not let their lives go to waste just like their mother…
Stomp, tap, stomp! As I race across the open field, as fast as my legs can carry. I have to get as far as away from here as I can. What did I ever do to those people “Daddy!” cries a familiar voice. I must be hearing things. Then I see my son and daughter, joy shining over them…
Happiness soothes through me.
“You’re alive!” I shout as loud as a lion.
“Yes we are!” They reply.
“Now we can be a family again,” They say…
Do you treat Aboriginal fairly?