2022 School Magazine

WHAT A MESS Lena had been running for nineteen minutes now. She had never in her short lifetime been an athlete: she was feeble; she had all the speed of an eighty year old; and her balance would never be rhapsodised over. The afternoon spread out before her like a broken mirror, every second a jagged shard of torture. She knew that if she swallowed, her throat would itch all over with longing for water, and she would recoil—the thirst made her longing mouth ache like a barbed-wire fence. Lena nearly doubled over as nausea lurched through her—not a quick jolt of pain, but slow and inexorable as poison curling through her blood. It was the kind of dizziness that latched onto her flailing feet and stayed there, pulling her down and down and down like a drug, until she gave in and toppled to the floor. Alone in the barren wilderness—which was really just the straggly school oval—with no-one there to save her. What a mess , Lena thought. Why did she always let herself be persuaded into this? Giving in to Shannon’s will; buckling under the weight of her best friend’s browbeating. The tears. The pleas. The guilt trips. Lena knew if she hadn’t agreed to attempt the cross country with Shannon, she would have lashed out with her bitter, resentful rage. Why can’t you do this, Lena? Scaredy-cat. You’re so weak. On and on and on until the determination she had thought so resolute shrunk into itself like a nautilus. And she gave in. She always gave in. The sun beat down on her bent head. It had always been like this—from when they had been kindergarteners and Lena had idolised Shannon, with her bubbliness and her unending cheer. She was the charmer, the flirt, the open book. She had the heart of a lion and was so magnanimous with her things—everything from books to homework answers to chocolates—that nobody minded if she manipulated them to do her bidding. Who would even assume that of the golden girl of the grade? Lena had been loyal. When she was friends with someone, she was ride-or-die; she loved her inner circle fiercely. They became her family. To her, friendship was a sacred possession. It wasn’t something to throw away so easily for another. It was not to be taken lightly. Yet with a toss of her honeyed curls, Shannon had run off and abandoned her. Never again, she thought. She was not a plaything. She wouldn’t be used for Shannon’s benefit. She thought of hours transformed by the alchemy of the late afternoon, listening to the arpeggio of her best friend’s laughter, filled with yearning for someone who cared; who genuinely sympathised with her struggles and griefs. A kind friend. She knew, even then, that their friendship was broken from the inside out-and it would never last. Something entered Lena’s plod as she ran the last agonising kilometre. She was nobody’s victim. A flash of molten hair and she glimpsed Shannon’s exultant face flutter to the finish line, the long loops and whorls of her locks like a phoenix’s tail. Finally, there was no jealousy—not even the bitter dream to be as lively or outgoing or popular. The sky crackled with lightning and rain began to slant through the darkened trees. But Lena kept on running. The clouds swelled as if to offer encouragement. The thin pipe of the rain, intermittent through the branches’ emerald screen, sounded like applause. And when she sailed over the finish line to no cheers but the song in her blood, spurring her on, she knew she was a different girl. AMBER ZHAO (7H)

118 | BRISBANE GIRLS GRAMMAR SCHOOL 2022