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Book Crusaders Competition entry

SCOTTISH POWER STORY GENERATOR 2012

Entry from Elgin Academy

I wanted to be heroic and I pretended I was.

My father always said courage meant facing your fears head on. Something I have failed to do in previous years. But would this be the last time I would see daylight?

As the weakness in my knees grew, I had to face my demons. If I didn’t, then I was going to die. Painfully. But I knew this was the right thing to do. I grabbed an old wooden plank from the deteriorating shelf behind me as quietly as I could and dropped to my knees to crawl along the cellar floor. I thought he couldn’t hear me or see me and prayed my breathing wasn’t as heavy as it felt to me. I could sense him not far ahead.

On a sudden burst of adrenaline, I shot up and swung the wood wildly, hoping to hit my pursuer. Instead, I heard an explosion of glass as my dad’s case of wine shattered into large fragments all around me. The smell in the cellar was intoxicating as well as sickening. I only hoped he found it equally as revolting. His footsteps crunched on the glass as he came ever closer to me. I scrambled frantically for the door, praying Eve was staying quiet upstairs and keeping calm after hearing the explosion in the cellar. I forced myself to also stay calm and to think rationally. I could see the unmistakable light of the hallway as I yanked the door open, relief flooding through me at the prospect of being reunited with Eve.

Suddenly, an agonising jolt of pain shot up my spine, as my pursuer forcibly pushed me to the ground and stamped hard on my back. With great difficulty, I craned my neck to find myself staring into the eyes of my attacker. They were cold and cruel. There was no telling what this man was capable of. The smell of vile blood hung on his breath as he grinned at me in satisfaction. He clearly thought I was as weak as I once believed I was.

The image of Eve trembling upstairs and the ordeal she had just suffered at the hands of this fiend suffused my body with rage. He wasn’t going to win. He bent down to whisper something in my ear and as he did so, relaxed his grip. In that moment I grabbed my chance.

I frantically scrambled around for a discarded shard of glass, and found luck was finally on my side as my hand clasped around the neck of a broken wine bottle. I chuckled in derision. It had the effect I had hoped for. He turned me roughly round in a fit of anger.

I swung with all my might, the glass making a satisfying crack as it hit his skull, small shards raining on me. As he grunted and fell to the floor in pain, narrowly missing me, I slid from beneath him. I looked down at him in victory, screaming and writhing in agony.

I knew now I was heroic.

 

 

 

 

S3 Book Crusaders, Elgin Academy.