AUTHOR WORKSHOP AT WHSC
In August, during English Week and later on September 1st, selected students from Primary and Secondary participated in an author workshop with author Soli Larson. They created an amazing array of entertaining and atmospheric stories. In coming months these will be published in a collective magazine and sent home to parents. In the meantime, enjoy this short story by Tiana Strachan in Grade5/6C. I'm sure you will agree that her work is remarkable.
Amanda Evans
HOD - English
BREATHE
by Tiana Strachan
A breath, Elara opened her eyes. The sky above her shimmered in unnatural hues, lavender streaked with gold, clouds like drifting glass. She stood in a field of tall, whispering grass that tickled her fingers though she hadn’t moved. It was quiet, but not silent. The type of quiet that hums with meaning. She didn’t remember falling asleep…
“Elara,” a voice murmured behind her, familiar and echoing like it came from underwater. She turned. A little girl stood in the field, a mirror of her younger self, no older than seven. The girl wore Elara’s old sunflower dress, her bare feet dusty with soil. Her eyes held both innocence and warning.
“ You’re not supposed to be here,” the girl said.
“I know,” Elara replied, though she didn’t. “Where is here?”
The girl pointed towards the horizon where a silver thread stretched from the ground to the sky. ”That’s the way out.” Elora took a step forward, but the ground beneath her trembled. Trees erupted from the earth- tall, black-barked things, that grew instantly, casting shadows that crawled like insects.
“You’re running out of time,” the child said, her voice more distinct now, like she was slipping away. “Time for what?” Elara called, but the child didn’t answer.
Suddenly, the grass twisted around Elara’s legs, binding her. The sky pulsed red. A distant ticking sound began… slow, deep, like a massive heartbeat. Elara wrenched herself free, sprinting toward the thread.
As she ran, the world warped. The sky bled downward, dripping into the field. Her footsteps left no prints. The thread- once so close- receded like a mirage. She cried out, “Please! I want to wake up!”
A voice answered, not in words but in feelings; a soft aching tug at her chest. She remembered the car, the rain, the scream. Something had broken. Glass. Bone. Time. She wasn’t just dreaming. The thread snapped taut above her. She reached out with shaking hands. Something pulled.
It was cold and electric and terrifying and Elara clung to it as the world shattered in white noise and light. Then- a gasp, her gasp. Hospital lights. Beeping. She opened her eyes again, for real. And remembered how to …breathe.
The End.