New Year, New Hope

• Annelise Chester, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2022

I hold my breath as the the bright colourful sparks fly up into the sky before bursting into streaks. I'm not a fan of fireworks, except when it's new years eve, like tonight. I sit back, my muscles relaxed as I look at the shimmering lights of the city. I hear another bang and look up as the sky filled with giant numbers. I try to read what they say. "2032" my mother whispers quietly. I look over to this fragile woman, Her eyes filled with sadness. I had to get her out of bed, she had to see her last firework display. She leans against my shoulder and I lightly kiss her bald wrinkly head. I wish silently that this moment would last forever, just the two of us. I hear another bang, but don't see any streaks of colour, I hear a couple more. I get up suddenly, causing my mother to jolt. I pear through the window. More bangs, I don't see any colourful blasts going off but I do see red. People are screaming. Solders are marching across the roads. I firmly grip my mother, squeezing her arm so tight it starts to turn purple. But she doesn't care, she can see too. I close the curtains and I hurry my mother down, into the basement. She's seen enough horror in her life. Just in time. Bombs start falling from the skies, I know this because I've memorised the sound. We huddle together. "Happy new year" she says quietly, her lips turning blue.