Shortlisted
The Wind
Harrow International School Hong Kong, Isabella Clowes, 12
How many roads must a man walk down
Before you call him a man?
How many deaths will it take until he knows
That too many have died?
How many years can some people exist
Before they’re allowed to be free?
The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind
The answer is blowin’ in the wind
My people sang this. During exhausting labour, tedious readings of law, and to their children
before bed. Although no one knew where this song came from.
I’m Assura, I guess I’m fourteen years old. That’s all I know about myself since where I live
information is dangerous. My town is known for horrific enslavement, if known at all. Many have
escaped but their bones were found within a month. Our town is in the middle of the Gobi Desert.
“Back to work! Or that’s fifteen whips on the back!” yelled Judge#56. Judges were horrible
men who enjoyed our suffering more than anything else apart from alcohol. They would drown
themselves in barrels of rum and beer. Then we had to drag their over bloated bodies back to the
Core, the inner part of the town.
“Fine, jerk,” I muttered under my breath, grinning mischievously. After all I wasn’t going to
waste my time much longer.
After Hour #3, that not only drained our energy but our hope, we got ten minutes sharp of
break. I dashed to my “room” which is actually an obscure contaminated cave. In each room there
is one bed for six girls, and when I say bed I mean the wooden frame of a bed and filthy old rags.
I dove under my bed, bashing my head against the frame, full of splinters. If I cried they
would find me running away and I’d never be heard of again.
While the scarlet blood gradually trickled down my nape towards my back, I was packing
my limited possessions with intense purpose and one motivation - to get out of this living hell. I
shoved my final item into my bag then scrambled to the door. It creaked open…
An intoxicated Judge had hesitated in checking I was in this room. I thought he was
intoxicated but I couldn’t risk it. I ripped the rancid unsteady floorboard then whacked him.
Knocking him out cold.
Running out of the room after grabbing my bag. I aimed south, thrusting the old decaying
gate out of my way and instantly a wave of freedom and power crashed upon me. Though how
was I going to survive, was still a question. The wave suddenly transformed into a flood of regret,
drowning and suffocating me.
Trudging away, I reminded myself that I would rather be in this waterless place than there. I
would make it through that glacial and blistering void.
After about four hours of walking, the longing for water had increased dramatically. I could
feel the thirst seize me. I glanced upon the horizon, looking for any signs of an oasis or shade.
Nothing. My eyes began to shut, slowly but surely. This terrified me as I tried to control it but
