The Key To Freedom

• Alys Jones, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2019

Rhys itched at the callouses peppering his hands from the shovel. He was tired of burying his friends. Each month, another child would take their life, another child’s fate sealed. Each month at the vile orphanage, he would have to bury their sorry souls, loading a fresh body into the damp dirt. He bit his lip to stop it from trembling, gripping the shovel tighter.
Grim faces greeted Rhys as he trudged back into the dining hall, cold air biting at his skin. He had been living in the orphanage for as long as he could remember with hundreds of other kids just like him, craving freedom and a full stomach. Heads suddenly snapped up to the deafening sound of sobs and wails bursting through the rotting doors of the dining hall. Charging through was Madame holding a small figure by his hair. It was Gray; the newest addition to the hellhole and Rhys’ responsibility.
“Who let this mongrel in the kitchen?” Madame roared, tightening her grip on Gray’s sandy blond hair. Grazes covered his knees and blood was smeared across his face. Rhys swore he could hear every pounding heart in the room. Taking a ragged breath, Rhys stood up, his metal cup clattering to the floor.
“I-I’m deeply sorry, Madame,” he stammered. “It won’t happen again, I swear on it.”
“Well it better not,” she snapped, eyes boring into his skull. “This filthy maggot has already earnt a beating for his reckless behaviour, so you’d better not make it a second.” On that note, Madame hauled Gray out of the room. Before he knew it, Rhys was storming after them.
Rhys grabbed Madame’s wrist, whirling her around. Pain exploded from his cheek. He staggered, watching the Head Mistress’ eyes fill with fury.
“Let Gray go. He did nothing wrong!”
“Who? Oh, this mutt? This boy-”
“He was just hungry!” Rhys cut her off, breathing heavily. Furiously, Madame grabbed both boys by the neck and dragged them down a cold corridor.
“I expected better of you Rhys,” Madame chided. Suddenly, a finger jabbed at Rhys’ side, startling him. He turned and his eyes met Gray’s. He nodded, understanding immediately. With a crushing blow to her face, Madame collapsed to the ground. Rhys gaped in horror at the blood from her nose spilling onto the cobblestones.
“Rhys-”
“Run!” Rhys yelled, sprinting back the way they had just come. He glanced back to see Gray kneeling beside the fallen body.
“Gray, what are you doing? Hurry!” Gray stumbled after him, heading towards the dining hall.
“We're leaving. Come on!” Rhys urgently beckoned. The children leapt up, eager to escape the orphanage. Rhys turned the handle of the wooden doors leading to pure freedom and-
His stomach dropped.
The handle wouldn’t budge.
Rhys cursed. “I-I don’t have the keys.” How could he be so brainless?
“Um, Rhys?” A quiet voice asked. Rhys spun around and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Of course! That’s why Gray had hung back.
“Let’s get out of here.” Rhys took the key from the boy’s hand. Crisp air greeted them as he slowly pushed the doors open. Rhys breathed in the sweet smell of freedom. The day he had been waiting for his whole life had finally come.
He wouldn’t have to bury another soul. Ever. Again.