The dark stormy clouds roll over the sky and consume it in
its dull, gloomy cloak.
The wind is whispering warnings as my hair is lightly lifted
off my shoulder.
The atmospheric changes send shivers down my spine and I make
a turn for home, meeting my brother part of the way down the
He swings his gun over his shoulder and holds up his latest
catch; two helpless rabbits stiffened by the life that has
now left them.
When we arrive home, we notice the lights on and our uncle
sitting in the kitchen, mum and dad's car gone.
We cautiously open the door, curious as to what's going on.
As the crisp air departs and we are met by warm muggy air,
fed by the flames of the fire, our uncle stands.
He begins to talk as I fetch myself a glass of water, the
running tap drowning his voice so it's merely a soft murmur
in the background.
The glass shatters into thousands of small pieces, my knees
giving away, as I plummet into the bed of broken shards.
My head is thrown into a whirlwind of despair and hurt, as my
chest pounds a heart-breaking rhythm.
Hurting so much, yet no tears at all, as I sink further and
further beneath the surface of what was such a perfect world,
into an enraged torrent of relentless emotions, swirled by
the complexity of life and death.
''He's gone, he's gone,'' is all that throbs through my head.
There's one frozen image that remains pencilled in my memory,
although it threatens to fade as more time passes.
He stands there with a real Kiwi bloke stance, one hand
clasping a drink, while the other awkwardly rests in line
with the body.
He's probably just told one of his lame jokes, as his face is
slightly scrunched, with a big smile, head falling back, as
the image quickly plays the sound of his infectious laughter
before pausing again and refusing to go any further.
Although the memory only gives me a few short seconds, I am
sure I can hear one of his famous playlists in the
background, entertaining a crowd of people.
See, for me, it was never a case of me loving him for one
particular thing. I just did. He was family.
He had always been there right from when I was a kid through
to my now teenage years.
He was woven into everything I knew and just like a rug, when
you pull one thread out, the rest begins to unravel.
Handfuls of dark, damp soil are thrown over your wooden roof,
spreading an earthy aroma as the silence is broken by the
pitter-patters of our tears, like listening to the rain at
As you begin to depart, reality hits me and tears flow
freely, seeping into my skin and staining my memories. I will
The final descent of the spade seals your departure and I
take a moment to remember.
I take the moment to try and gather my feelings; hurt, angry,
But as I gaze into the murky sky, breathing in the sea salt
air blown by gusts of wind, I watch the sun break through.
I watch its hot rays fend off the clouds and there is a
strange warmth to the now blue sky.
I will not forget. I know you have safely arrived as the
birds sing a chorus of beautiful harmonies and the waves of
the ocean gently scrabble away at the sand, soothing our
surroundings, entrancing us with their peaceful serenity.
I am hurting but I am happy, because although you left us in
sadness, you will now forever remain in happiness, sent to a
place where the cruelties of the world do not exist.
I will not forget. I will remember.
• By Tahlia Moir, Year 13, Roxburgh Area School