Finding Freedom Within

• Nicole O'Rafferty, Grade 7, Inaburra School
• Short Story
• 2018

Excellence Award in the 'Write Along 2018' competition

“Alma Madhya, one toffee nut latte!” I approached the collection counter. The sweet, salty and sour smell of the coffee wafted in my nose tantalising my taste buds. I sat in a corner of the Starbucks coffee house, a place I visit regularly when I am trying to escape the hustle and bustle of New York City. Although it is an eclectic and magnetic city it’s also a city full of life. The jungle of buildings pierce the skyline, the sidewalks are congested with people on their mobile phones and clutching their Starbucks. The streets are mobbed with yellow taxi cabs and cars going in numerous directions. The continual scent of exhaust fumes surf through the air forcing me to take reprieve in the local Starbucks. This is why I am a regular here now. As I sit, I suddenly hear the shrill honking of a horn and there’s a knot in my stomach and a lump in my throat. My heart punches against my chest, it feels like I’m being strangled. Fear has frozen me as I gasp for every breath. The walls begin closing in and the darkness overwhelms me. My body is a motionless corpse. Raspy voices swirl around my ears as my eyes dart around the room. I realise I am being tortured by those memories again.
I was only 10 when my family and I were fleeing our village in a small white minivan when I heard a deafening BANG!! This was soon followed by the hissing of bullets and cracking of rifles. Mum and I scattered to the shadow of a decrepit building. Shrapnel had cut into her chest with blood rupturing from her stomach and her right arm was almost severed. Through shock, gasping breaths escape my mouth, followed by tortured screams, filling the air with agony. As I lay there, blood forming patterns as it splays across the sparse ground, I surveyed the dead that inhumanly surrounded me – my uncle, my grandmother, barely recognisable. Smoke rose, curled and danced through the thick hazy air, I saw silhouettes of buildings through dust and smoke from the explosions. As the smoke settles and the sun peeks through the clouds the rain starts to pour.
The deafening but rhythmic rain crashed onto the corrugated metal awning of the Starbucks coffee house snapping me back to reality. With a start I open my eyes and scan the coffee house. All safe. I recompose myself, breathing deeply allowing my chest to naturally rise and fall. Hugging the cup, I silently sip my latte. Rising from the booth with my hands clenched, I walk out into the chaos that is New York City. The rain cascades over me, the puddles danced like fountains and the wind whispers in my ears. Despite the hustle and bustle of the city, I feel cleansed, free and at peace. As I walk towards home, the clouds begin to part, the sun sinks behind the building and the city sleeps.