Your Body, Not Your Soul

• Ashlee Mierendorff, Grade 6 , St Mary's School -
• Short Story
• 2018

Excellence Award in the 'Horizon of Dreams 2018' competition

Your body, not your soul.

“Stop, go home”, called the voice inside him. As he trudged through the scorching hot sand of the Sahara desert, his cut feet yelled in agony. He knew that glory and fame will come if he crosses, but death may take him first. His brown hair, knotty and ragged, bits of dirt and sand in it. He fell onto the ground, the tiny buds of fiery hot sand hurt like a thousand bees stinging into his body. His body may not cross the desert, but his soul will.

As he laid on the ground he reflected on how his life was, his wife back at home taking care of their three beautiful children, probably snuggled up watching their favourite show. He longed to be there, his heart ached in pain wanting it back. He now knew this task wasn't a walk in the park, and he wanted to be home and grow old with wife and watch his children grow up. He wanted the glory but his family more, he wanted to turn back time and be with his family one last time. He now knew this sand was going to be his deathbed.

His heart pounding slowly like a worn-out drum, every beat ready to be his last. Gasping for breath, even though the the burning hot oxygen hurt his lungs. His body was sickly, nearly a skeleton, open cuts and bruises all over him. The desire to cross the sweltering hot desert was weighing on him like a heavyweight upon his shoulders. He looked to the clouds, “I’m ready!” He shouted. He wondered to himself where he might be now if his life had taken a different path? Using all of his energy his skeleton-like body could provide, he stumbled across the sand, his feet more fragile than glass. His body was at God’s gate but his soul at the desert.

His slow deep breathes hard at his chest, making it work ten times as hard. His steps were slow, more like a shuffle, across the the lifeless desert. He roared to the bright blue skies, “Take me!” He fell to the ground again. For the last time. His heart yelled in pain. His legs hurt, his arms ached, his body at its end.

Then he was lifted off the sand, gently being held in an angel's arms, becoming healthy again. He felt what was like a knife being tugged at his chest, pulling out, his life, his friends, his family, his soul. Then the angel said with a voice and sweet as honey, “Your body will not cross the desert , but your soul will”