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8CS Short Stories |
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The following short stories of one hundred words or les by members of class 8CS were inspired following a talk by the Adventurer and Explorer Mr Tom Avery. The Laughing White Mountain He woke. Suddenly Alert. Joe lay damp and bruised. He tried to stand. His leg sunk into soft white snow. He remembered Kirk. The slow agonising traverse. Then the mountain face claiming another life. Now he lay shuddering, unable to feel. He let out an exasperated scream. He looked up to see the white mountain, laughing at him so mercilessly. Trails of footprints and the memory of climbing. Then falling. His eyes closing. A torturing blizzard whipped up around him. It cut his skin like razors. He lay helpless, his body rigid. Heart failing. His breathing harsh. Alone to die. By Alex Lost Lost. The image of his friends being buried alive still haunted him. His food, his pack, his friends, all gone. The avalanche had hit hard, a white brick wall, storming down the mountainside. He was cold, cold to the bone; his skin was blistering in the wind. He wandered aimlessly on the fresh snow, the sun dazzling his eyes. He was lost in this vast expanse of nothingness; the mountain had swallowed his friends. He knew that if the cold didn’t kill him then the memory would; he took a few more steps, and then broke down on the snow. By Christopher The Final Metres We were nearly there. The summit was in sight. The howling winds battered us. The cold got to me, my fingers and toes were numb. We had no food left, only one Mars Bar. Just a few metres to go. Then, a slight pause, we had made it to the top. The view was mesmerising. The mountains looked like crocodile teeth. The sun sparkled off the snow in a spectrum of light. We all turned to Simon. “Where is the Mars Bar?” I asked. He grinned “I’m afraid I ate it.” I was tempted to push him off the mountain. By William Inferno of Nothingness The hail fell like marbles on their heads. The snow stretched for miles, so far that it was disorientating. White upon white, it burned in the back of their eyes like an inferno of nothingness. The station had been there but the wind had whipped it from their sight. They weren’t sure where they were going, their food had been used up and their tent had ripped last night. They were hungry, tired and exhausted. Their movement invaded their thoughts: shuffle, shuffle, heave. Soon they saw it, the research station. Then the ice broke, death rounded them up like sheep. By William M Tiger He woke up, drenched in sweat. Something was out there. He glanced to the right. He felt for his machete. Another noise, this time steps towards his tent. He scrambled out of his sleeping bag. He took an uncertain movement forward. The stench of decaying meat hung in the air. He grabbed his rucksack. He strode out of the tent. The tiger was poised for the attack. He attempted to flee but it launched itself at him. He stabbed at the tiger. The savage beast recoiled. He attempted to retreat but the tiger was too quick. By Rowan A Forest Race Danny gasped, wiped out by the torrent of wind and rain that restricted his vision. His hair plastered to his scalp. “The bet, Remember the bet!” Hurrying on he nearly fell over a cliff as an overhanging ledge collapsed under him, only his reactions saved him. “Where’s the abseiling equipment?” he thought. Harnessing up he prepared to go, and, almost flying down he hit the ground hard, unharnessing he jogged on all night. Behind him he heard the other group crashing through the forest behind him, then, he heard a yell as someone saw his tracks, but it was too late, Danny had already won. By John C Accident I didn’t mean to. She was there and fell when I bumped into her. She tumbled and turned down the stairs whilst I chased. She laid awkwardly, blue, lifeless, her neck in a crooked position at the bottom. Too much guilt. I ran. Dad chased me, screaming! I was tired, brain spinning. Each step precious, each stumble useless, I sprinted, panting like a lost dog. Dad was closing in on me. I made ten more steps and then gave in. “Dad I’m so sorry. It was an accident.” Then hands grabbed my neck. Choking, I felt myself fade away. By Hector Arctic Adventure I sat up; I heard something, too loud to be a dog too quiet to be the wind. This snuffling grew louder and louder. POLAR BEAR! Fear rippled through me as I scrambled around searching in the shadows. Damn it! It’s in the sled. The distance was to far too get it. I had a decision to make death or run. I sprinted out of the tent arms and legs flailing, a spoon in my left hand and a fork in my right! By Angus Less Haste More Speed Scrambling through the dank cave - hoping to beat the record for the fastest traverse of Alacanta Cavern. His eyes became accustomed to the darkness. He saw a world of glistening columns. He didn’t hesitate to look at this marvel. He leaped from a ledge. Ben relaxed ready to make the roll to avoid injury; perfect. He grinned at the sight of the tunnel’s mouth. In the dazzling light Ben felt no ground beneath him. In shocked desperation, he flung his pick into the mountain it slid mercilessly, regret engulfed him. He remembered his mother’s words, “Less haste more speed.” By John B
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© Old Buckenham Hall 2005 - 2007 |
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