By Bev Bell | Posted: Tuesday November 27, 2018
Chloe Morrison-Clarke recently entered and was one of two winners for a Christchurch City Book Council short story competition.
The story was limited to a maximum of 250 words (Chloe had to cut out around 190 words from her original story to fit this requirement!) and had to begin with the story starter; ‘The kite was a big red fish in a blue sea.’
A few days after entering she received an email telling her she had won publication on the
ChCh City Council website Facebook page and would be sent a Joy Cowley book of her
choice.
Chloe is very proud of her achievement and thankful to her amazing School For Young Writers teacher Melanie for all her helpful feedback. She plans to enter many more competitions in the future!
Here is her winning story:
Let Go.
The kite was a big red fish in a blue sea. My stepbrother, Max, yanked the string and the
kite jerked sharply, straining to float on the breeze.
‘Hey! Watch it!’ I glared at him. Predictably, he took no notice whatsoever. I dug my
fingers into the sand. Everything went wrong on the 12th November, the date my mum left
us. I looked again at my brat of a half-brother, who was still playing with my kite, forgoing
care or consideration. That kite was the only thing I had left of my mum’s. The little...
‘Ahhhh!’ His cry was a foghorn, wrenching me awake. "The kite!" He glanced at me, ready
to run. “It’s flown away!” I reacted suddenly, desperately. I tore across the sand not
stopping for breath, only feeling the ocean spray sizzling on my sweaty cheeks, only
hearing the thump of my heart. Towards my kite, Mum’s kite. Tears mingled with the
sweat on my cheeks. I watched as its ribboned tails drifted over the hill.
Max caught up with me, breathless. "I’m… sorry. For losing it," he whimpered. "It was your
mum’s..." I glared, ready to unleash my anger. A tear fell and he wiped it hurriedly away,
scared it would plunge him into deeper trouble.
I took a deep, shaky breath. "It’s okay." I felt a flicker of surprise dart across my face,
because I meant it. After all, mum was the one who left us. She had never looked back,
and neither would I.