Two students share their creative writing- enjoy!

A night on the street

by Kai Potter

I am blissfully making my way down Collins Street after a great night when my body is suddenly overcome by an awful wave of fear and anxiety. As the hairs on the back of my neck and arms slowly begin to rise they send a chilling sensation down my spine causing me to quiver. I see a dark shadow looming over my back. As I turn around to check who is trailing me, I am suddenly struck right in the face by the hard knuckles of a clenched fist, forcing me to slam into the solid, rough concrete, scraping the side of my face. Dark vibrant blood begins to flow profusely from my damaged face, like a gushing water fountain. I lay there trembling with fear; adrenaline pumping around my body.

I glance up and notice a man who seems to be in his mid-twenties with a scruﬀy brown beard, filthy disheveled sweater and trousers, taking long vigorous strides as he flees the scene; the abominable odour of cigarettes and alcohol still lingering. That man had to have been drunk, there is no other explanation for that disgusting stench. I slowly glance down at my pockets when I realise that the lowlife has stolen my phone, wallet, keys and loose change. I can’t believe he had the audacity to rob an innocent individual.

My heart begins to beat rapidly out of my chest as if it’s a mad drummer. I gradually get up and begin staggering my way down the dark, mysterious alleyway lurching into the rough concrete facades of the shops as if I had been drinking for the past six hours straight. I plea for assistance trying to get attention but the passing people just glance over at me and then instantly look away as if I were some kind of monster or alien. I continue to stagger around the city with the orange sodium-vapour street lights staring directly into my eyes, blinding me. As I tilt my head skywards my body is shortly overcome by extensive stress and confusion. I realise that the beautiful stars have been stolen from the night sky. I then begin to frantically ask myself, ‘who has stolen the stars from the sky? Where have they gone?’ My sight becomes a blur as I begin to forget where I am and why I am here.

As my body begins to convulse my heart rate rises dramatically again. The thoughts of me being lost and stuck in the city flicker through my brain causing me to break down in tears and stress out about how and if I’m even going make it home tonight.

Just as I think my life couldn’t get any worse an intense thunder clap falls from the gloomy sky, shortly trailed by a powerful blinding bolt of lightning, forcing the icy cold droplets to plunge out from the clouds creating a thick blanket of water on the roads and sidewalks. I immediately seek shelter under the nearest bridge curling up into a ball trying to use what’s left of my body heat to keep warm and safe. Suddenly a massive gush of unexpected wind stings my face like an aggressive swarm of hornets. My fingers begin to freeze, my knuckles seize up making it hard and painful to move and my teeth begin to chatter. My eyelids are drooping unenthusiastically half way down my face. I’m struggling to keep them open, the anxiety and fear is slowly taking over my body. The tears begin to cascade down my frosty cheeks causing them to almost instantly turn to ice. I glance over at the Yarra River spotting the splashes and ripples of the heavy drops. My vision starts to get hazy and I float away into darkness.

I drift into conscious thought and my eyes open slow and sticky. It must have been hours since I was robbed and since I last ate anything. My stomach is screaming at me for food. I’ve got no money whatsoever. I’m helpless and fearful of what could happen to me. I anxiously shut my eyes: I want to remain awake but I drift oﬀ to sleep again.

Before I know it, I am awake and so is the Sun. It’s bright and inviting outside the shadows of the bulky bridge. As I sit freezing and shuddering to pieces I slowly get up and then rush to where there is no longer shade, exposing myself to the hot beaming rays from the Sun. I wipe the dangling drool from the side of my mouth.

I stagger up the path, back up to the street and spot a convenience store across the way, putting a small grin on my face. I take slow steady steps towards the shop-front, dragging my feet behind me. I’m filled with relief and joy as the shop keeper greets me with a concerned look. I clench my hand around the cold metal handle of the glass door thrusting it open as I stagger inside.

I ask him politely, “May I please use your phone sir? I’ve been mugged.” As I hear a familiar voice at the other end of the line I ponder and reflect on the long, traumatic night that had me on the verge of death. The thought of having to relive that disturbing night over and over again for the rest of my life sends chills down the back of my spine causing me to shudder.

THE END

Another Day Living in a Real-life Nightmare.

by Nikki Gorsevski

Another cold, dreadful, lonely night thinking about the stupid mistakes of the past. After my parents died in a horrific car accident I really went off the tracks acting like a monkey without its bananas. I gambled away all the money I had as I numbed myself to the pain every day. Before I knew it, I had lost everything.

Every day now I’m scavenging for food like an animal and every night I’m protecting myself from the vicious, unforgiving weather. I’ve just been awoken by the harsh wind that is whipping at my face. The beanie on top of my head is barely staying put. I look up and estimate that the time is about two in the morning from the placement of the moon in the dark, overcast sky.

I shamble and stumble from the park bench, where I slept, to head to McDonald’s. That busy, fattening, delicious restaurant is where I eat the majority of my meals. I snort out loud and quietly repeat “fattening” to myself, like I’m in the right place to be worrying about my figure. When I scurry to the door, I quickly examine the room for any food that has been left behind to be cleaned by the young, inexperienced teenagers.

A small family of three rise from their seats and head to the exit. This is my chance. I make a move to the recently abandoned table and slide into the bright, flaming red booth. I grub around the bags and tray, scavenging for any sign of something to fill my desperate stomach. At the bottom of the brown, greasy bag I spot a happy meal box. I greedily take it out of the bag and stuff my face with the tepid nuggets and fries. After demolishing the distasteful mess, my eyes delve deeper into the bag and recognize the yellow packaging displaying ‘cheese burger’ all over it. I unwrap the covering to find a half-eaten burger. I bring the wrapper briskly to my face and lick most of the unappealing, old cheese into my ravenous mouth. “HEY!” I hear a deep voice boom. I snap my head in the direction of the voice to see the manager of the restaurant stride towards me. I frantically stash my tattered pockets with the disgustingly delectable burger and hesitate when I’m authorized to leave and never come back.

Once I’m out I notice the depressing, chilling rain that has decided to haunt me. As I’m prowling to the park bench where I slept earlier, I hear the distant echo of thunder that shakes the ground under my feet. I decide that I need to secure some shelter to cover me from the rainy night. My rude, obnoxious stomach rumbles and I reach for the now cold, damp burger in my filthy pockets. I used to wince at such unappetising fare, but now I chew on the disgusting mush with resignation. I am accustomed to it now.

I tramp through the city, down the dark, forbidding alleyways trying to discover somewhere for me to hide from the outraged sky. I come across a small, grimy, little nook that I could hide out in. It will do until the rain stops. As I promptly drop to the grey, unyielding ground in exhaustion, breathing out a tremendous breath of relief for finally finding cover, I close my eyes and focus on the soothing sounds of the rain splashing on the floor beside me.

After a few minutes I hear the clamorous sound of heavy footsteps battering in the rain puddles. I instantly focus my vision in the direction of the overwhelming noise to see an old, rough looking man. He is stalking towards the claustrophobic nook that is my temporary residence. I freeze, having no clue on what to do. So many thoughts are crowding my mind at all the possibilities of this guy’s intentions.

Once he looks up from the slippery, moody concrete and spots me, I spring to my feet and take a cautious step out of the nook and once again, into the furious rain. His eyes harden when he bellows “WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY DOMAIN?” I feel so intimidated that I turn into a stuttering mess. “I-I I’m sorry! I didn’t know this was yours,” I gesture with my hands toward the nook. “I was just t-trying to get shelter for the night!” I frantically shake my hands in a nervous, conciliatory gesture.

The nightmarish, I’m guessing homeless man wobbles up to me and snatches my beanie off the top of my head before I can even blink. He effortlessly tugs it onto his own before hollering “GET OUT OF HERE, KID!” I nod rapidly and make a run for it like a deer being chased by its predator.

I run out of the alleyway and onto the main road, breathing heavily whilst trying to ignore the hole I feel in my heart. That beanie was the last thing I had of my parents. I feel the tears streaming down my cheeks as the memories of my dad wearing his favourite beanie flood my mind.

I find myself back at the park bench, shivering furiously as I lay down onto the saturated, wooden seat, staring up into the sky. I don’t stop the continuous tears that flood from my tired, lifeless eyes. The rain is still heavy, but I accept the uncomfortable feeling and let it pour all over my fragile body. My last thought of the night is how my life is now so unpredictable and hazardous before I feel myself getting pulled into a deep sleep, dreaming about my real-life nightmares.

THE END

Year 4

Year 4 History and Writing

Story 1