Last Of Her Species

• Emily-Kate Rattray, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2019

I was so nervous. I couldn’t help thinking about how many people would be watching me. I was wishing it was only the judges. My parents said they would be proud of me however I went.
I ran my fingers through the tips of my red hair nervously. Well I tried to, but ended up nearly pulling it out of its pony tail. The room flinched and fell silent when I moved. I almost screamed with fury: “Just because Firecaster’s are supposed to be extinct, doesn’t mean you can treat me like a living breathing artefact!” It gets really tiring having little kids come up to you begging to see you create a fire ball in the palm of your hand, resulting in the mother dragging them away disapprovingly.
While I love my red hair it doesn’t help my situation. I walk into a room and the first thing they notice is that I’m a Firecaster. People ask my parents about me all the time. Most of the questions are “how did you get a Firecaster in the family? They died out a hundred years ago,” and “What’s her nature like? She doesn’t set everything on fire?” These questions are usually asked while I’m still within earshot.
I spent the next two hours standing in a corner with about a meter of space in front of me, kids trickling out slowly to perform. As soon as the last person had left, I started pacing the room end to end. Finally, my name came over the loud speaker. I turned the handle on the door to the stage, took a deep breath, opened it and walked through.
The lights were so bright that it took me a couple of seconds for my eye to adjust. Even though I couldn’t see, I caught snippets of what people said about me as their words swirled around the room.
‘She’s a Firecaster,’ was most common.
I scanned the crowd for my parents but gave up when one of the judges started talking.
“Contestant number?” he asked.
“2257,” I answered.
Seconds passed.
“Name and act,” The same judge questioned.
He sounded very bored to me, but I answered politely.
“My name is Ashlyn Fox. My act is singing.”
Again, seconds passed. Then the judge answered.
“You may begin.”
I took a deep breath and as soon as the music reached my ears, I was in my own little world, a world where I wasn’t I Firecaster, I was a normal girl. There was nothing except me and the music.
The song finished and was met with silence. I thought the silence would drown me. I didn’t realise it was stunned silence. The room burst into applause after what felt like eternity. The whole room simultaneously rose to their feet. I was so overwhelmed I could feel the tears stinging the corners of my eyes. Hope flickered in me; maybe they can see that there is more to this Firecaster that meets the eye.