Famine

• Kayla Catania, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2021

The clouds clump together in the sky allowing streaks of blue through; but alas it still cascades with rain. It creates small death-pools on the ground for the odd innocent wandering bug.
The aggressive pummelling on the roof seems to only grow more and more substantial, the old plastering on the roof starts to give way and stains. Languid drips seep through.
A single sheet of tempered glass separates me from the cold desolate world we live on. Raindrops race to the bottom of the frosted window; when I was little, I would pretend that the drops were racing. Whichever one came first I would jump in the air and sing hoorah for Mr Dribble because for some reason I always named them that.
The clouds twist and turn outside my window, lightning strikes the ground fearlessly, in a few seconds delay the thunder follows with a ground-breaking clap; rattling the tan floorboards.
My friends ring taps against the table, while cutting the last vegetable in the fridge; it seems to be the only extreme colour around here, it's a gold band with a vibrant blue rock in the middle.
The sound of rain seems to lighten but the claps of thunder still remain. Now only slight taps penetrate the room; it's almost musical. The roof still drips, forming a slight increase of water in the bucket.
The window in front of me is now completely frosted over. Shivers run down my spine as I place my blistering hand on it. My hand melts the frost leaving a small handprint on the glass.
I peel my eyes off the handprint to face my friend. She's shaking, as if in fear. She plays with the ring on her finger while contemplating something important. She's scared, but of what?
Her face seems to drop as she heads to the pantry searching for something, she closes it with nothing in her hands. Her eyebrows seem to be pushed down her face.
“Why did you do that? You didn't get anything out.” I ask with confusion lingering on my tongue.
“That's the problem… There's nothing left!”
She stumbles on her words as if she's frightened of hearing what she just stated.
“I thought we had enough for the winter!”
My mind is inert, what do I do?
Thunder shatters the arquid silence, Cici jumps with an uncomfortable squeal. The room seems to darken, it's cold, white and empty outside. What does she expect me to do, just go out and steal more? Food is limited these days.
You can't grow it and no one can buy it. Cici pulls at the gold band wrapped around her finger, fiddling with it as if uncomfortable with this situation, I don't blame her so am I.
We stand there mute to the world, thinking of solutions to our mess.
“So we can steal or…” “What?”
Cici seems hesitant to finish her sentence.
“Or we see what happens to us, wait it out I guess.”