Faith

• Mia Kluss, Grade 6, Lansdowne Crescent Primary School
• Short Story
• 2019

Finalist in the 'Inspired 2019' competition

The grotesque scent of decaying animals fills my nostrils as I return to consciousness. Dry soil erodes under my fingertips as they run along the ground of what I now call home. Hot, so hot. I live in the year 2059, twelve years after the iceberg incident when tsunamis broke out all over the world due to global warming, resulting in miniature continents and barely any food or water. I use tunnels to escape the penetrating sun in Croatia, to escape those who would see me as prey. Memories flash behind my eyes, memories of my mother and father carrying me to safety. Screams echo in my ears, reminders of when the world was thrown into chaos.
My frail hands reach for an exit to the tunnel, to water and food. Exposed to the fire of the sun, wasting time isn’t an option. Running through barren lands, dead vegetation, searching. I pause to observe the whimpering boy sitting under a pile of sticks, it’s nothing new. I feel an urge to help but people are burdens, we’ll all die anyway. I keep moving, feel the sorrowful tears evaporate off my cheeks.
Minutes later I discover a canyon, the refreshing air leaking out of it means a chance of food. With hazy vision, I leap across to the other side, but miss. Thoughts berate my mind.
‘Finally I will disappear into the afterlife.’
‘Who’s going to care if I die anyway?’
‘I wonder what would’ve happened if I had helped the child?’
Blackness.
I feel the sensation of being submerged in a vast expanse of nothingness. Am I trapped within my own mind? Suddenly… air. My dreary eyelids separate. The boy is staring down at me with kind eyes.
“Wha-" I stutter. I find a pool of blood, closing in around me.
“I followed you.” His voice was gentle yet raspy
The boy abruptly falls. The heat rushes back and I shoot a glance at the motionless corps beside me. He had taken the force of my fall and died. My fault. Imagery ignites in my mind, scenes of my parents travelling deserts. Every ounce of food and water entered my mouth while they suffered. The scenery changed to my shrivelled parents dying. My fault. It’s because of people like me, bad things happen to the ones that are kind.
I emerge to the outside world. Hot, so hot. Running through the bushes, I’m searching for someone in need. I try to look friendly as I approach the group.
“Do you need help?” I ask, only to receive a response that chills me to the bone.
“My brother went to find help, but he hasn’t returned.”
It was the sister of the boy who saved my pitiful life. I want to run away, tell her that he’s not coming back but I resisted the urge. She lets me sit with her eventually.
“My name’s Zera.” I croak, realising how dry my throat is
“Mine’s Faith.” Faith. Faith for our survival.