In the minty grass there was a perfect silhouette of where I'd been lying. The clouds were
forming shapes around me. Beautiful. A handful of trees were scattered beside me. For
a moment, I even questioned my living. Not a sound and not a worry poisoned my
thoughts. I sat up on half-cobbled grass path and untied the last remains of people on
Earth. My family's headband; red stitched and handcrafted in the mountains of Russia;
containing the knowledge of all my ancestors in a concentrated band of wisdom.
The only problem - other things wanted it...
by Marcus Naidoo (12)
Marple Hall School - A Specialist Language College, Stockport
Competition - Grim Tales
Copyright remains with the author.