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Intermediate. Years 7/8/9

Will's Journey

By Aidan Concannon, year 8, Grammar School

A piercing scream of the plane racing above my thoughts cuts clean down my spine; panic flourishes around me. Suddenly, my legs feel like lifeless, blunt knives, mum darts to my side as we both hit the ground. Her racing heartbeat strikes a sense of adrenalin.

Mum thrusts a humble suitcase to my feet. I feel my mouth fade into granite. Dry crumbling granite. The reality slowly enters my head as an array of mothers drench themselves in a thick layer of sorrow. I try to at least function a wave but my arm tenses, disabling me to even walk! My lungs concentrate in a fog of gas as an abrupt steam train washes a black and white filter on life.

As the carriage shackles and shakes, I drown in tags, cases, and masks. Isolation hits me as I perch up into a murky window, I spot teachers forcing an elastic smile to reassure, but it only washed over a sense of the unknown. At the corner of my blotchy eye, sandwiches surf through the air as the train halts. The other children's drew to towards the windows, exposing a beam of light into a carriage of dust and tears.

As we were herded out, mint pastures soothed my eyes as the crisp air purified my lungs. I gazed into the hillside in disbelief, but a hint of soil sifted into my nose, i turned to expose this pong as one burly beast of a human pounded towards me, each step irritating my eardrums. "You must be Will!"

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