Secondary Writer’s Anthology
SECONDARY ENGLISH
The Path Back Home By Jaidah B, Year 9
me from the harsh winter air. My makeshift bed, a prickly park bench, pinched my skin as I lay down. I huddled up in my scruffy, raggedy jacket trying to preserve what little warmth I had left. The distant sound of people chatting and passing by served as a reminder of the world continuing without me. This angry, vicious howl kept getting louder as a gust of wind spiralled around me. I shut my eyes and felt this tickle on my cheek. I instantly opened my eyes in shock and momentary panic at what it might be. Right in front of me was a shabby, feral - looking dog that had drool spilling out of its mouth. It was shivering so I slowly moved my hand toward its face, but before I could pat the dog it put my sleeve in its mouth. Gently, it started pulling me into the dark distance, where the walls were like looming, ominous towers. A man’s deep voice came from a small, makeshift tent squished up in the corner of a dingy alleyway. The dog glared at me as it stood by my side still quivering and shaking. The man’s trembling hand reached out. When I grabbed for his hand he held on tight, squeezing it. This felt like a glimpse of hope. My heart stopped pounding and thumping for a moment as I realised he just wanted company.
We sat for a while and talked, got to know each other, and did not feel so alone. He offered me a fifty - dollar note and muttered “I know how it is out here”. I felt guilty for accepting it because it seemed like he needed it more, but he insisted. I finally made a friend, someone who felt the same way as me. This dog led me to meet someone new. The foggy smoke filled the air surrounding me. The dull sky had a small shimmer of light. Some hope I thought. This might not be the worst night after all. The homeless fellow and I enjoyed our last chat together as I waited on the next train; my escape from this dreadful place. The sun was quickly rising over the buildings before I even realised it was morning. The blaring sound of the trains started to get quieter, the fresh night wind started to get warmer, and the city lights stopped flickering like someone’s nervous tick. The train idled down the railway, groaning on the tracks. The doors gradually opened, and I stepped in with a smile. I had a path back home again.
The bitter cold of the night wrapped around me like a dark shadow, its icy fingers creeping through every layer of clothing I was wearing. After I missed my last train, I felt my chest thumping. The streetlights above me struggled to pierce through the mist and gloom. The streets, usually bustling with life, now felt eerily quiet and deserted as I navigated through the darkness. The dim glow of the window lights cast a long shadow that seemed to hustle in the cold wind, catching my eye from a distance. Small sprinkles of rain started gently falling from the sky as my ears caught the sound of a howl from afar. As the night dragged on, each passing hour felt like an eternity. The hunger gnawed in my stomach, and I started to feel nauseous. The noisy traffic and the cars’ rumbling engines kept me awake. My eyes slowly began to shut after a while as I shivered and let out a dejected sob. The cold seeped into my bones, numbing my limbs and clouding my thoughts. In the solitude of the night, I found myself longing for the warmth of a home, for a bed to sink into, and a roof to shield
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