Paper Planes

• Alexandra Gerraty, Grade 6
• Short Story
• 2017

Once I had this teacher called Rosie. Once she taught us how to make paper planes. Every time, mine went the furthest. That was when the skies were blue. Now the skies are grey. That was when my planes flew up. Now they fly down. That was when I knew who I was. Now I am lost. And I have forgotten that happy child I once was.

Every day I climb up to the apartment roof. And I throw a paper plane. I throw it to remember. I try to remember my childhood. The memories are all I have left. I follow those paper planes I throw. But I always lose them. Just like I lost everything else. And then I climb down. And curl up in a newspaper. And cry. And hope. And dream. And remember.

I seek to be happy, I promise, I do. Happiness is what I want most. But I am so caught up in my own despair that all I find are endless corridors of lost hopes, distant memories and shattered dreams.

But one night I wake up. I am sick of it all. I don’t want to be stuck here anymore. I walk. I walk for hours, without knowing, or caring where I'm going. I reach a forest. It is cold and wet. I feel empty and lost. I am always lost. But this is my last shot. I throw a paper plane. The dark grey storm clouds part to let it through. With it I fly up to the heavens. Up to my mum, my dad, my home. I fly up high and I don’t come back. I have finally found it. Happiness.