Gone With The Wind

• Uche Imoh, Grade 7
• Short Story
• 2022

He had entered. The howling crowd fell silent instinctively before quietly analysing the great man before them—a pale complexion that complimented his luscious lavender hair—and the vivid lights that shone onto his dark coat, mirroring his self-inflated ego. For a brief second, he gawked at the clustered audience, wary not to be caught. Then he shouted the dominating words, "Silence." At that moment, all the minds in the auditorium belonged to him. He stood still like a 1,000-year-old tree, then leaped off the ground, floating amid the closed sky, before gliding and soaring as if he had inhaled Sylph's spirit. The crowd went wild as he flew through the sky, but what was this feeling of uneasiness? Snap! The invisible string that guided him through the sky was broken. The realisation had dawned. He could feel nothing under him. Even the air was nowhere to be found. His hands were flapping at his sides like two noodles he had no control over. He felt his chest tightening and his breath speeding up, but he managed to force his eyes shut, bracing for impact. He was helpless in the face of gravity and fell. He landed flat, wheezing and gagging out his blood, and the ongoing sirens and screams didn’t help but keep him awake. Oh, how he wanted it to end, and as his vision faded, so did his consciousness. He woke up to the pungent smell of hospital disinfectant invading his nostrils. The room was silent, apart from his heavy breathing and the beep-beep sound you often hear in hospitals that indicates you're alive. He slowly opened his eyes, squinting in an attempt to sharpen the blurred images before him. When he finally opened his eyes, he noticed a troubled doctor walking towards him. "Six broken bones, a fractured spine, and a fracture to the left leg," said the doctor. "You will never walk again." Even though he knew the final words would have a strong impact on him, he could feel veins surging on his forearm as he gripped his right leg tightly.

After five months,
As he lay in his hospital bed, he could feel the numbing breeze caressing his face, and as he gazed outside of his window, he remembered his past. It was all just too much. The pain of remembrance struck him hard each day, he had nothing left, nothing at all. Oh, he wanted it to end, all of it, so he threw himself onto his wheelchair and rushed out of the hospital. But on his way out of the hospital, he began to hear faint noises coming from a room, and curiosity struck. He wheeled closer to the room and slowly peered through the clear glass, but that was when he saw a girl crying miserably. "I don't want to die!" she called out as tears gushed from her eyes uncontrollably. He looked at her, stunned. He began to drown in his guilt. How could he forgive himself?