By Sophia Lashmar, Y10
Sandy fingers clutched my legs and I could feel myself being pulled further and further down through the layers of sand. I could hear my Grandpa’s muffled cries as I struggled to get above the water, but I couldn’t free myself from the current’s grip. The world turned grey, then white.
I was upset and frustrated as I ran away from my Grandpa. My emotions clouded my judgement. I’d been warned about the dangers of the sea at this time of year. I knew I wasn’t meant to get too close to the water, I knew the currents were too strong, but I was furious and I wanted to get away. I dived into the cool, clear waves to calm myself, but before I knew what was happening, the sand around me curled into a whirling tornado.
It had been a long and lazy summer spent at Grandpa’s cabin listening to his stories. Grandpa wasn’t one for small talk, nor was he much of a playmate, but, once he started telling a story, I forgot everything else. He seemed to have an endless bank of tales about my parents. He talked ceaselessly of what they were like, where they spent time together, how they met and eventually fell in love. The best stories of all were the ones that brought them back to life.
One day I stretched out lazily on a deck chair, under the soft glowing rays of the hazy sun, and settled in for a quiet afternoon. I was listening to the sounds of the waves rolling in and out, half listening to my grandpa, when I heard my parents’ names. I sat up like a shot, and my book fell to the floor with a thud. I turned to face my grandfather, who was recounting a story about a summer’s day, much like this one, when my parents went into the sea for a swim. In the midst of his sentence, his eyes clouded over, and his voice trailed off. This always happened. This story started with happy memories, but would always stop, never to be finished. I knew better than to ask how it ended. No one had ever told me what had happened to my parents, but I knew that it started with this story. I had asked, but I had only ever heard the start of the story, never the end. It was eating away at me, it always had been and I thought if I knew what had happened, maybe I could learn to live with it.
When I came to, I was lying on a white, cloud-like surface, in a strange sort of room that didn’t look quite right. At first, I saw nothing but white angular walls, slightly darkened in the corners, as if someone had taken a pencil and shaded them in, to add some perspective to an otherwise empty, colourless room. I began to wonder if I was dreaming or unconscious. I had the vague impression that the walls were widening, and beginning to slope off towards the sides, then I watched as the walls around me fell down. A kaleidoscope of light flowed in, rather like a rainbow, and from behind the light out strutted a proud, bird-like creature. Stunned, I recognised the boldly striped body of a zebra, and the feathered head of a magpie. Confused as to what stood before me, I blinked slowly, and was then shocked to hear words come from a moving beak. The creature said, “Welcome young sir, welcome to the ‘World of What Comes Next’! As you are a guest in our land, do not fret, my dear sir, you have not passed, you are merely a visitor. As you have found a portal, and have come here looking for answers, we have granted you a three unit guest pass to allow you to ask your questions of those who have passed. In three units time, if you’re satisfied, you shall travel back to the mortal world. If you aren’t satisfied, you shall remain here for eternity. One last thing, young sir, is that should you need to access your memories, travel to specific locations or ask any questions, I am at your peck and call!”
The beast cackled at its rather weak joke, puffed up its chest and smiled dazzlingly, as if posing for invisible paparazzi. I stood stunned and the bird-like creature disappeared, leaving behind a puff of pink smoke. A large, cube-shaped clock hung suspended in the air, with the seconds ticking by, abnormally fast. I realised I had no time to lose, but I wasn’t quite sure what I should do. Lost in thought, I imagined myself in my happy place, to calm myself down. I was at the Grammys, singing on stage. As I fantasized, my surroundings began to change. The scene before me flooded with colour, and sound kicked in, as if someone had turned on the volume.
As I stood on stage, I was surprised to see a large number of furry, scaly and feathery creatures out in the crowd, amidst many long-gone singers and musicians. I turned to my left and stood next to me on stage was the guitar legend, Jimi Hendrix. I looked out into the audience and caught a glimpse of Frank Sinatra, seated next to a tiny, pointy-eared elf. Managing to tear my eyes away from that rather unusual sight, another oddity grabbed my attention; Michael Jackson was sat chatting to an enormous green and orange dragon, who had to stand, for the seat wasn’t sufficient accommodation for her large behind. The beast stood ten feet tall, bearing waxy green scales, a pair of meticulously folded wings and was balancing on her sturdy, stocky hindquarters. Triangular orange bumps proceeded in an orderly-like fashion down her back, that shook every time she laughed at her neighbour’s jokes. Bewildered, I remembered that I was in the ‘World of What Comes Next’, and slowly, the pieces of the puzzle began to slide into place. If this world was home to those who had passed from Earth, but were now once more alive, maybe my parents were here too?
To confirm my theory, I stretched out my hand to poke the nearest person. Jimi Hendrix turned around, stared, and then went back to his deafening guitar solo. I glanced up to look at the clock, and saw that I had two more units of time left. I threw the microphone into the crowd, and a group of yetis began to fight over it, scuffling with their oversized purple paws. I dashed outside with no time to lose.
I began to understand this world of ‘Next’. I realised that to accept my parents’ death, I had to know what had happened to them. I needed closure and so had to find my parents. To do this, I needed some help. I called for the magpie-zebra, my well-meaning, but vain and absent-minded guide to this new world, to help me search through my parents’ memories. The bird transported me in another puff of coloured smoke to a large, bottle-shaped building. Around the bottom of the tower were clear and glowing tree-like structures, made from lightly tinted glass. The leaves were sheaths of paper, hanging off the ends of the glass branches and swaying in the non-existent wind. The glassy effect was repeated, but this time to form the main building. It started out in a large circle, rose up and curved into the middle, then thinned out at the top. A red landing pad atop the building was being used by arriving dragons, magpie-zebras, winged trolls and leprechauns, and humans atop perfectly groomed and manicured winged horses. A red banner stretched around the building, bearing a sign that read “Memories” in white cursive writing.
I knew that I had limited time, and so searched as quickly as I could through my parents’ memories. To find the right memory was to find them. The clock was ticking and the pink troll librarian was tapping her foot impatiently, tip tap tip tap tip tip tip tap! I had one and a half units of time left when I came across my parents’ favourite ice-cream shop, where I knew they’d be.
Summoning my magpie-zebra guardian, we made haste, and travelled through space. The sights around me were changing constantly, a reflection of my every thought. If I thought of food, the buildings and landscape all became a gastronomic feast. The skyscrapers were towers of piled up chips, the restaurants morphed into hamburgers, the movie theaters popcorn boxes. The trees were broccoli, the floor was cheese, and the sky a blueberry pattern, dotted with marshmallows. It was heavenly, if a little strange!
Stood at last in front of the ice cream parlour, I drew in a deep, shaky breath. I was about to meet my parents. I had only one unit of time left, and needed to understand what had happened to them. I turned to thank the creature, but it had vanished.
I pushed open the door, and my heart began to beat even faster. I saw a couple sitting at a table, chatting and laughing, who looked up as I came in. They knew it was me. Without a word, they stood, and I ran to them, my throat closing up, my chest tight with emotion. After so long, it was the moment I had dreamt of. I compared their likenesses to those of their grainy photographs etched into my memory. My father had the same wild head of bouncy licorice curls as mine and he stared at me in wonder from his soft, perfectly rounded eyes. His thin lips formed one of the proudest and happiest smiles I had ever seen, but were slightly open, as if he were lost for words. My mother looked at me, finding her features in my face, and I did the same. We both had the same soft, sea-green eyes that complemented our tanned, sandy-coloured skin. I was shorter than my parents, but was without a doubt their son. My parents smiled and my mother began to speak,
“Darling, we’ve missed you, and we love you, but we know that you haven’t got much time, so ask us anything you have to, we understand. ”
“I want to know what happened to you.” I stuttered, nervously awaiting the answer I had been waiting for, for so long.
My parents glanced at each other and my father said, his voice quiet and thoughtful, “It was your birthday, and we were having a picnic on the beach with the whole family. We left you on the beach with your Grandpa to go for a swim. The current was too strong and…” At this, my father broke off and my mother interjected,
“We couldn’t get back up, the current dragged us underwater and we found ourselves here. We’ve watched you grow up, and we’re so proud of you…”
Slowly, my parents began to fade, the detailed patterned walls of the shop blurred slightly and the creatures drinking milkshakes at the counter dissolved. The question that had been eating away at me for so long had finally been answered. I knew I had run out of time and I hated the thought of losing them all over again. But it was too late, and before I knew what was happening, the world went white once more. I opened my eyes to find myself washed up on the beach, my ears clogged with sand and my hands gripping the soggy remains of an ice cream cone.
