We All Get What's Coming!

• Eliza Seres, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2009

You can imagine pain, and suffering. You can imagine tears of lies. You can experience the darkest night and not know that the one the caused you such pain is the very person you opened your heart to and lead you to believe that right had been done. But to see and feel this in the blink of an eye is unthinkable, unimaginable impossible but true. In agony sits a young girl, on a swing-set older the civilisation itself. As she swings she cries. The swing creeks and she drops. Her face buried in the fine sand as a tall man stands next to her, the man laughs and scratches his head as he brushes a few flies from his hot read cheek. Then walks away to a near by car, and I follow. With our face down we sit in the car and drive away, almost like we were never there. I slip a black shot gun into my pocket and a sharp knife in the other. A faint scream in the background. A siren behind us. I feel myself falling back into the seat, holding on for life we speed down the high way, turning sharp corners and dodging innocent people crossing the roads. Dodging poles and trees. No one said anything about houses. They don’t move, looking behind us, three, could be four, Police vehicles. We should stop but our speed increases we keep going, we keep turning straight into an old brick house. Our speed drops instantly. Bricks cave in on us. People are screaming and yelling, people are crying. People are dead; I am soon to be one. Stepping out of the crushed car I collapse, the driver, my boss, he nearly drove me to death but instead drove himself to it. I look up and see men in uniform looking down on me; I see there mouths moving but I can’t make out the words. I’m alive but only just. I lay here for just a moment before I get up. There it was. My life just flashed in front of me. The young girls face appeared within me. A laugh, a smile, a frown and then tears. She dropped from the swing and I saw this over and over again. I stood up and demanded I be taken away. Far away to place I knew could never exist, somewhere know will know my name and know one will know what I did. “Take me away, take me away,” I demand. As my arms are chained up and I’ve been pushed into the police vehicle I start to tear, I thought of my mother, I thought of my father and I asked myself what on earth I was doing hear and how I ended up like I did. The man in the uniform who stares still at me says with a casual tone, “The good ended happily, and the bad unhappily. That is what Fiction means.” And that’s the last thing I will ever hear!