The Journey

• Ashleigh Grayson, Grade 12, Bremer State High School
• Short Story
• 2018

Excellence Award in the 'Horizon of Dreams 2018' competition

Beautiful, bright colours flooded the path of evergreen grass cut between pre-lapsarian forests. Birds chirped in the distance and squirrels could be found running amok on branches of sturdy and intricate design. Flowers bloomed in softly spoken pastels of blue, purple and pink hues, contrasted by screaming flamboyant red, orange and yellow shades.
The tortoise blinked, slowly making its way down the path. It watched as rabbits danced in the tall grasses, playing idly. Other various creatures scuttled along, speaking with one another in the contrast volumes of loud and quiet.
It didn't know where it was but it knew where it was going.
The tortoise knew it was also dull compared to the vivid colours of this odd place. Where it was a kaleidoscope of colours that would surely boggle the eye, the tortoise was a mash of dull grey and muddy brown. The creature didn't belong in this place and it stuck out like an eyesore.
It moved slowly, gazing around in wonder. What was this place and why was it here? The last it remembered, it was lying down to sleep and had awoken in this strange place.
It noticed the caterpillars, chewing upon the greenest leaves it had ever seen. There was cocoons. Colourful butterflies danced in the air, searching for a source of sustenance. The tortoise managed a glimpse at the sky through the thick foliage above. It was a bright blue. The sun hung high above it, a blinding yellow ball of burning gas, exuding warmth and light.
Its travel passed by strangely faced and it noticed that things seemed to be getting duller as it went. It continued and, slowly, things began to die. The thick abundance of vegetation slowly declined and the dullness grew, become darker with each passing minute.
The death slowly grew and the sky darkened until it was completely black. The land was covered in dark, dark dirt and bleached bones were scattered with the rotting carcasses of animals. It noticed a sickly moss green lake. The grass had become short, dead brown blades that appeared as though they could pierce through almost impenetrable skin and scale. Thorns ran across the remains of dead trees, winding around them in thick, sharp, lifeless burnt umber strands.
It looked desolate.
The tortoise looked around and continued on his slow journey, feet not yet tired despite its arduous journey. It looked ahead, noticing the robed figure. It was foreboding, a tall stance that seemed to crouch over. A supernatural, melancholy aura hung around it. The skeletal hand tightened around the staff clutched in them.
The figure seemed to grin, leering and disconcerting.
It leant down further. "Thank you, Life."
The tortoise reached the figure and found itself being lifted up by something bony. The grin seemed to widen, causing the aura around the peculiar being to darken.
"Welcome to the end of your time," Death whispered, his voice rough gravel. Life sends gifts to Death and Death keeps them forever.