2015 HNHS School Magazine | Page 45

The Chase Mikaela Wroe The gravel road pounded underneath me, white light illuminating the road ahead. Angels and demons were lurking in the shadows of my mind as the darkness slowly surrounded me, caving in on me, like a lion hunting its prey. My conscience started ticking away in my head, threatening to eat me alive, I was being consumed by guilt. Loud echoing sirens heard in the distance brought me back to the reality of the moment. Flashing lights flooded the area as I fled for my freedom. Tiny beads of sweat gathered at my forehead and all I could hear was my heart beat mixing with the sound of the sirens. The sirens. They were getting louder and my heart was beating faster and faster. It was starting to come back to me, I was running, but who and what from was all a blur. I couldn’t remember, can’t remember. All I knew was that I had to keep moving forward and faster too. The sirens were a constant reminder of that. A rush of adrenaline surged through me as I stepped on the gas pedal, giving the car more life. It sprung forward into action. Pop! All of a sudden the car had stopped and the firearm that once lay on the passenger seat was now in my hands. I took a shot at the blue-uniformed officers and it all came rushing back to me, blinding my vision for just a second. “Arrggggggg,” a piercing scream tore through the air. My head came into contact with the hard rough surface of the road, red stuff blinding my sight. Then I realised that the red stuff was blood. My head was bleeding! It wasn’t till then that I also realised it had been my own scream that tore through the air just seconds ago. I clutched my chest in pain as blood oozed out of the freshly-made bullet wound. As the blood escaped my body like refugees escaping their homeland, so did all the adrenaline. I felt the life being drained out of me. The pain was unbearable as everything slowly went dark, dark, dark. PEACH Saffron Wilson Her plump shaped body, deceiving to the human eye. Outside, as dry and withered like the leaves of an oak tree in Autumn, her fire-coloured cloak clasps her body wrapping her tightly. Battered and bruised on th e outside, yet surrounded by a sweet tropical scent, arising around her, taking flight like a bird. Her scattered blemishes, marks upon a drawing board. She glides slowly through the scattered trees, not knowing she will soon be nothing, nothing like the rest. You live, you fall, you grow, you drop, you’re consumed. All that will remain is your inner seed, your heart, showing you were there once. YELLOW Alice Wake She was tall and lanky and weak at the knees, brightening everyone’s day with her sunshine coating. Her blemished skin was her only imperfection, reflecting her battered insides. But underneath that cheerful disguise lay a delicate core prone to heartbreak and hurt. An interior, emotionally pummelled into a soft gooey cream. She had such a sweet personality, but was weak to the bone. She always helped others, but wasn’t recognised for what she was worth.