Chelsea Hishikawa, Grade 8
“Can you really not make it to the track meeting next week?” Aubrey whined. “I have to help my Dad with the car again…” Harold said with a weak smile. Aubrey pouted. “This is the third week in a row! You better come next week.” Aubrey said firmly, hitting Harold over the head. Harold nodded before making his way toward the school gates.
Curse Aubrey! She made Harold stay late again, lecturing him about being committed to the track team. Harold couldn’t help it, he was too busy with other things. To be honest, Harold had lied about helping his Dad with the car. I mean, what did you really expect from a fourteen year old boy?
Harold hurried home making his way up to his room, throwing his bag onto the floor and falling down onto his bed. On cue, a certain someone began hitting rocks against Harold’s window. “Hey Toby, hey Wil—“ Harold opened the window, greeted by a rock straight to the bridge of his nose. “Sorry, Harold!” Toby the one who threw the rocks apologised. “It’s fine…” Harold stuttered in pain as he made his way down to them. “So, shall we go to the river?” Toby asked, the other two boys nodding.
Once they all made it to the river, the boys walked up a dirt pathway up to an old shed.
This may seem odd so far. Why would these boys be walking up to an old, creepy shed? Well, this is because the true prize was within.
“Cool! New bolts!” Toby yelled happily. “Shh! Keep it down.” William whispered over to Toby. “Jeez, sorry…” Toby whined. After looking through the drawers for a bit longer, Harold’s eyes glimmered. “I found a new wrench.” Harold whispered. “Jackpot.” A stupid smile made its way onto William’s face.
The boys hadn’t noticed how much time had passed until Toby looked out the window. “Guys… it’s dark out.” Toby said nervously. “I’m sure we’ll be fine.” Harold reassured Toby, continuing to dig through drawers. “Uh, Harold? We have company.” William whispered, hiding behind a cupboard as he peeked outside. A man presumably in his late 50’s held a shovel in one hand, a bucket in the other. He had a serious expression, stomping toward the shed slowly. “Shoot! We need to get out of here.” Harold grabbed Toby by the collar, pulling him to where William and himself were. “We need to flee, fast.” Harold looked around the shed, noticing a small hole, big enough for all them to squeeze through. “Let’s go.” Harold ran toward the hole, helping the other two boys to escape. Harold then came out last, them all fleeing to Harold’s house.
“That was a close one.” William said, panting. “We’re never going to that shed again!” Toby cried. “Maybe let’s not steal bolts, screws, nails or tools anymore.” Harold said with a depressing sigh. “Agreed.” William and Toby said in unison.