That Was The End Of Both Of Them

• Sarah Jenkins, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2008

THAT WAS THE END OF BOTH OF THEM.

The Leaf floated down the calm, peaceful stream, sure of its destination. I was sure where this was going. The leaf was a pale green, like my brothers jumper the way it had been when he died, wet and pale. This leaf bought the memory of my brother back like the smell of a summer morning. Our family lived about a block away from a beach. It was summer when my brother and I went down to the beach that lazy afternoon. He wore his green surfing jumper like he always did. We were just normal people going for a normal surf. We got to the beach. A storm was brewing. I felt scared. I had never been surfing with a storm, but I trusted the sea like my own faith. The wind blew hard on a watery faces as we hit the waves. Now was the perfect time to go, since there were no people around and the waves were big, maybe a little too big. We had no idea what we were in for. My brother and I surfed because it was a great reason to escape the confusion of life. We were out there, in the rough, splashing, cool waves. I loved it when we went surfing. My Brother was my best friend. We were very close to each other. I soaked up the roughness of the ocean like a sponge soaked up water. The waves were getting too big. They were getting bigger by the minute, and we were way too far out for our own safety. All of a sudden a huge set of 5 waves, bigger than I ever saw that night came tumbling toward us. The rain started pattering down. My brother was always a bit wild and daringly he told me he would give it a go. I tried to tell him not to, I insisted that we leave now before it was too late and we were stuck out in the current and couldn’t get back, but he said he had done it heaps of times and was a professional by now. He had been a surfer for years. I was sensible enough to swim to shore quickly before I was forced to join him, and wait for him there because I wanted to leave for home because the current was too strong to swim at all. I sat and watched, my brother swimming toward it. He went up, but the first wave was way to steep, he came crashing down into the tunnelling, swirling vortexes like someone falling off a bridge. The wave broke, and then next and the next one and the next one, until they were done. I swam in after him after he didn’t come up. But the force of the wave was extremely strong. I swam and looked and shouted for him, but he didn’t answer, the huge waves pushing me away. I had no choice but to go back to shore and wait, scream and pray for my brother’s safety. I waited and waited. I waited for about 40 minuets, tears pouring out of my eyes. I was wishing, hoping, and praying that somehow God would perform a miracle and bring him to shore. But there was no luck. He didn’t come up. I ran along the beaches up and down, up and down, looking and searching for my best friend, my brother, my hero. I had never run home so fast in my entire life. He died doing the thing he loved best. I cried for months. I couldn’t stop thinking and blaming myself for the tragic accident. My parents were distraught. Never have I seen the look on their faces like I saw that night. The Leaf floated down the calm, peaceful stream, sure of its destination. I knew it. I was right all along. I followed it right down to the end of the stream. The leaf soon floated to a nasty end. An end called a waterfall. The leaf went down, but never came up. Like my brother once did. That was the end of both of them.

This story was not written from experience.
By Sarah Jenkins