The Wasteland

• Caroline Kuhne, Grade 10, Bishop Tyrrell Anglican College
• Short Story
• 2008

Finalist in the 'Empowered 2008' competition

I stood still, frozen, goose bumps like imperfections on my smooth skin, my hair thrashing about wildly like thousands of whips slashing against my skin as punishment for all the sins I had committed and the temptations I could not resist.
But I could not move. I was numb. Not from the prickling water that flowed from the arctic seas, eating away at my feat, not from the cold breeze that caressed my skin, it’s fingers crawling all over me, violating my body.
I was frozen by the presence that held me here, that kept bringing me back here. It was unknown deadly, foreign, dangerous and… real. It was there, there was no denying it. I knew it was there, subtle, following me, I could feel it.
As much as I wanted to find out what it was… or who it was I was scared to look for it. Terrified that finding this terror would do me more bad than good. And I was frightened of finding it and knowing that it was there. Feeling it was something, but seeing it… without sight I could still be ignorant. You’re safe as long as you’re ignorant.
I stayed still and let my eyes watch the pale face of the dead white moon that floated in the grey clouds of darkness, appearing, then slowly disappearing from my sight. It was glowing, bright, a reminder that somehow good could prevail through the thick mists of darkness and danger that surrounded it, yet somehow that hope didn’t extend to me, because the moon was just out of my reach. No matter how much I stretched for it I would never touch it.
The sound of a snapping twig caused me to take a sharp inhale of breath. I forced my eyelids together tightly, letting darkness overthrow my world. Sometimes it was easier to be blind and oblivious to the dangers around you rather than to face or confront them. Perhaps I was a just a coward. As scarred as a child is of the monsters under their bed.
It was scary that not long ago I had found this place so beautiful and mystifying, but now it was just a wasteland, still mysterious but now also ugly. Not to be admired but to be feared. I now felt suffocated under the moons glare, and lost in the dark sky. I no longer saw the stars or endless desert of water as something that could be watched for a lifetime. This place held no beauty because it seemed that every time I came, whether conscious or not, it drained me. I was no more than a swaying tree or a strand of grass. Just an empty shell with no soul.
A single tear slid down my face
There was no escape. I was trapped, in this unknown place with an unknown presence. And no one could save me.