We are pleased to bring you the second of our Middle School Writing Competition winning entries.
This story is by Heather Sutherland in Year 6.
The theme of the competition was, ‘The fateful phone call” and stories were based around current Middle School studies centred around the Olympic Games.
The clock ticks solemnly as I sit cross legged on the floor of my hotel room. I am sitting amidst all my photos of my friends and family. I pick up a photo of my best friends holding up a sign that has ‘Good Luck Aussie!’ scrawled across it in black permanent marker. Suddenly, my phone rings, startling me. “Hello?” No answer. “Hello?” I repeat.
Suddenly a rasping voice emits from the speaker. “You are going to be sabotaged tomorrow. Be on your guard.”
The line goes dead. I put the phone down with shaking hands and collapse onto my bed. I have trained for years and years, but nothing has prepared me for this. I wake up in the morning when the sun creeps through the gap in my curtains. I groan when I remember the phone call from last night. I clasp the side of my bed and tell myself to calm down. I still can’t stop myself worrying as I get in my car, ready to drive to the Olympic track. I turn my key in the ignition. The motor turns over, but will not start. I groan and then walk grudgingly to my neighbours to borrow their motorbike. I swing my leg over the seat and drive off. Suddenly, a scary thought hits me. Could my car have been sabotaged? I shake my head and tell myself it must have been a coincidence, but I’m still worried. I walk into the changing rooms, biting my fingernails vigorously. I look up and see my mentor standing in front of me.
“What’s wrong?” She inquires. I glance down at my chewed fingernails and tell her about everything while I get changed. She stands outside the door of the toilet patiently. Suddenly, I realise my shoes are not in my backpack.
“Jaz?” I say, choking back tears.
“My runners are gone, but I swear I packed them this morning.”
“What?! Here, use mine.”
“Thank you!” I exclaim, hugging her.
“Go Heather!” Jaz is jumping up and down on the bleachers, in her socks. I smile nervously.
“On your marks!” Bang! I sprint as fast as I can. The icy wind pierces my face. Suddenly, an apple comes hurtling through the air and lands in front of me. I glance up at the bleachers and see a horrible looking man snarling at me. I step on the apple and trip, landing flat on my face. Blood is pouring down my forehead and into my eyes, but I don’t feel the pain. I must run. I suddenly get a surge of speed. I pass every person one by one and leap through the finish line. The stadium erupts into applause and cheers. I smile as I see the man with the snarl stomp his feet in rage. He is grabbed by security guards. I throw back my head and tears of joy roll down my cheeks as I hold up the Australian flag triumphantly. I have won.