Fiction: Group 3
Morning at the Pearl River
South Island School, Moore, Milly - 12, Fiction: Group 3
The faint daylight beamed through the cracks in my eyes as I rolled over on my side to look out the
window. The sun was just rising over the buildings in the distance, and the clouds were painted with
brilliant shades of orange and pink. The grey and blue mirror-glass skyscrapers reflected glittering rays of
sunlight, and the vast river glittered with golden stars. The room was silent. I sat up straight and once again
glanced out the window. I considered the nagging thought at the back of my head.
Should I? Should I not? I could get caught…
A loud snore erupted from Mum’s room. I grinned and slid my hoodie over my pajamas, and crept out the
door as silently as possible.
The gusty wind fiercely whipped my skin. I wished I had worn more clothing. I sat down cross-legged on
the edge of the harbor, the beautiful golden orange glints in the river hypnotizing me. Something moved.
Just a slightly unsettling movement in the corner of my eye. I stared at the streak of water where it happened
until my eyes ached. And then it happened again, though closer this time. I shivered. A fin streamlined
through the water about 20 meters away from where I was sitting.
Oh my god! A shark!
But as the fin protruded more out of the water, it appeared to be a pale, Shell pink shade with soft grey
speckles. It looked like it belonged to…
A dolphin emerged from the water. I gasped at its elegance. Smooth, pale skin covered its back and its pearly
brown eyes shone with intelligence. I reached out a shaking hand to stroke its silky complexion, kneeling
forwards on the splintery wooden pier. The creature’s everlasting smile stretched as I came in contact with
its muscular body. That was when it whispered. Just a faint sound, but still audible in the faint morning
breeze
“Can you listen?” It said
“Huh?” I questioned rudely
“Can you listen? I have a story to tell.”
“Umm... okay, I guess”
“It all started when the waste was dumped here. In our home. All the scum and grime you don’t need, it
goes here. The creatures here are like your slaves. This river used to be clean and fresh, clear and blue. But
now all I see when I swim is filthy sewage, clogging up our water. Would you believe the things I’ve seen?
Would you…
The dolphin told me a tale of sorrow and loss, of all the mistreatment of the beautiful beasts inhabiting the
river. A turtle floated through the ocean, a bulging throat of plastic. Its intricate patterns and scaly body were
limp, its large eyes glassy. It was dead. A baby dolphin was blinded by the muck and dirt in the water, losing
its way from its mother. Swimming in circles time after time again, it grew hungry and impatient, flailing in
the water. The pure madness and disability killed it, as it drifted down to the crowded seabed.
I gaped with awe as I listened, delicate tears rolling down my cheeks. When the dolphin was finished talking
it added one more thing.
“Tell someone. People need to know about this. If someone doesn’t do something, it will be too late. You
will, won’t you?”
I nodded silently.
“Good” it said as it disappeared below the waves.
The next day I woke up just as early, once again tiptoeing silently out the house. I waited at the harbor once
again, in hope that I would catch sight of my dolphin once again. It would turn up, wouldn’t it? I waited 10
minutes. 20 minutes. Still, the dolphin did not appear. The river seemed to have lost its glint; only then I
realized how polluted it was. Past the hours of the golden sunrise, the river was a scum-like grey, some
areas darker than others. I could see what the dolphin meant by polluted. Once again, I scanned the water
for the creature, before deciding it must have swam away for good. I trod slowly past the harbor, before
