I Have Hope

• Isabella Rowe, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2020

“One more trip than you can leave.” Her majesty looked defeated as she announced her final offer. King Harold and Leila stared at her. Queen Anne broke the silence, “So it’s a deal or not?” Pointing a look at Leila. “Fine. One more and I’m gone.” She spat back at her mother. They all just shuffled off to their quarters. It’s done; I’m nearly out of here. Her phone dinged and she looked at the message. ‘Pack for hot weather. We’re going to Iraq.’ The message was followed by every possible emoji available marking the sender as sweet little Hope. I hate to leave her, but the monarchy sucks.
The plane ride was mix of complete silence and Hope’s high-pitched voice blurting out random topics when she though it was too silent. She was still jumping around when everyone wearily stepped off the plane into the blasting hear. Hope has unlimited energy. She will make a great queen. As I adjusted to the bright light, the scene before me cleared and a mask of horror covered my sleepy face. It was chaos. Gunshots could be heard in the distance. Men were running around with stretchers carrying multiple people. “So this is what pain really feels like”, whispered a transfixed and suddenly very sombre hope. This is what real pain feels like. Death, chaos, destruction, war, pain. Hope suddenly vanished into the crowed as she spotted something apparently needing attention. The captain talking to yelled after her to stop but it was too late. 30 seconds after she disappeared, we heard a scream. Not just any scream. Her scream. My mind raced. My heart beat faster than ever before. There was a mole in the troops, and he knew we were here. He hurt my sister. My sister. A sweet innocent little girl. For some reason, no tears were forming. Just blank hatred and a crippling desire to stop this war. My parents – royal chickens – were back in the plane, trying to pull me on with them. I don’t move. If I found the enemy and gave myself up, would it stop? Would the warring, the pain, the death, the sacrifices stop? My parents were screaming hysterically as the plane took off, leaving me behind. They only care about the monarchy. Not Hope or I. As I continue to walk towards the spot where I heard my sister scream, I see a dark figure holding a limp child. He is staring directly towards me. I walk closer towards him. When I get there, he drops her and ties a rope around me, yanking hard. As I reach out to grab Hope’s hand off the ground, I register a stinging pain on my back and feel blood dripping down my spine. I must have screamed because I receive another one. When I shut up, he drags me off towards the enemy line. A horn sounds as he is recognized. The soldiers retreat. I did it. I stopped the war. It’s not my ideal life but I can live it. I have hope.