Hopeless

• Gemma Coombes, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2022

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

The sirens wailed in the community for the first time in years. It was all a blur… Hope stood in front of me, pleading, begging for me to help. But why should I? I was a loyal member of society, after all. Suddenly, she froze, her eyes widening. Behinds her I could one of the guards with the needle of assimilation. I saw her eyes become clouded, and she dropped to the floor.

I had lost Hope…

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

My alarm yowled out to me, breaking me out of my nightmare. I could feel cold beads of sweat falling down my face. Unblinking and teary, my eyes grew wide when the sudden realisation hit me.

It was not just a nightmare; it was a memory.

The alarm was persistent, reminding me to get out of bed. But I stayed put. My mind started to wander, and I kept thinking back to what Hope said. This wasn’t normal. Nothing about this was normal. Why must we get up before daybreak to do our duties? Why don’t we take any breaks? Why do we look the same? Why are we-

My mind flashed back to Hope. Hope, with her sweet smile. Hope, who always looked so happy. Hope, who was begging for help. Hope, who I had failed. She seemed so far away, yet so close. I had to get her words out to the community. I can’t fail. I won’t fail.

Not again.

I leapt out of bed and rushed outside. I could hear my parents call out to me, and could hear their shoes tapping against the hard floor, giving chase. I could see glimpses of Hope as I ran. I felt, strange. I had never felt this way. I was trying to find a word to describe it.

Courage.

Courage is what I had. Courage helped me break free. Courage helped Hope break free. I ran to the centre of the community, and started repeating the meaningful words Hope had said to me. I could feel the distain of the crowd swarm me. A young boy in his pyjamas, pouring all of his emotions out to the crowd. That boy was me. I could feel Hope beside me and I had never felt braver.

Bang.

I felt a sharp object dig into my back. My eyes grew wide in horror as I dug the item out of my skin. It was the needle. The needle of assimilation. Where had it come from? I looked towards Hope, who had her hands to her mouth, and quickly disappeared into the air. Was this her fault? It couldn’t have been.. right? I could feel my soul drain from my body, quickly becoming numb. My vision became a blur. I could feel hot tears roll down my face as I grabbed my chest; slowly, painfully, falling unconscious.

I have failed.