2017 School Magazine

FOUND

Hila quickly blew out the candle, preventing anyone from seeing his handsome features. Blonde hair, striking owl-like eyes and a lean figure. He would have easily blended in with the rest. Except he was a Jew. With his face printed on every wall and with a huge reward, every soldier was after him. And now they were here. Hila swiftly dived underneath the old and mouldy floorboards of the abandoned house he had found during his escape. He had heard them. He was sure he did. There was no way he could forget those loud thumping boots, the guns clicking into place and the sharp rods clanging together as they walked. Hila took deep breaths, almost gagging on the smell of the decaying food scraps and the wet ground.

“That Jewish brat better be ‘ere ‘cos I didn’t come ‘ere just to smell sewerage.” a loud voice boomed across the rickety house.

Hila shivered as his heart slammed onto his chest, bile crawling up his throat. He was now sure they were here.

A squeaky voice peeped, “He’s here! He’s here! I know it! Look, there are half burnt candles and a half-bitten apple in the kitchen.”

This was it. Hila slowly closed his eyes and sighed silently. His careless mistake was the reason he would be found. Thoughts played in his head. He remembered his sweet sister, so innocent so frail. Then he thought of his parents, kindly civilians who did no wrong to the world. All of them brutally stoned and hanged. He remembered the day he saw them hanging on the walls of the market. Their faces were bloodied, bruised and disfigured. The soldiers just stood there laughing and jeering, some of them looking proud as if the corpses were their trophies or some twisted glory. Hila opened his grey eyes, feeling tears trickle down his face and hearing the footsteps come closer. He knew what he wanted to do. It didn’t matter if he made it or not. It was simply a sign of rebellion. He hoped that others would hear of what he did, not for himself but for them. For them to have the bravery to stand up for themselves and not cower away every time they saw a soldier. Then he ran. He headed for the trees. He felt the cold wind whip his cheeks and the freedom to run out in the open like he could before. He saw the moon and the stars smile their welcome at him. He held onto those thoughts as he ran. A blast echoed through the night, piercing the silence the world yearned for. The soldiers watched as the small silhouette fell to the ground. They kept their faces blank and uniform as they marched away from the boy who showed them what real bravery was.

REMY HIRAYAMA (7L)

124 | CREATIONS | BRISBANE GIRLS GRAMMAR SCHOOL 2017