Short Story Anthology

8/14/2019 Short Story Anthology

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Short StoryAnthology

Northern Caribbean University Freshmen

11/17/2009

LECTURER/EDITOR: Wandeka Gayle

WWW.YOUNGWRITERS.WEBNODE.COM


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Copyright 2009 College Writers Publishing, c/o Northern Caribbean University,Manchester Road, Mandeville, JAMAICA W.I.

All the content of this anthology has been copyrighted and is not to be used for

commercial use. This document may be downloaded and reviewed but must not be

reproduced, marketed or sold without the expressed permission of the authors and

editors of this book.

If sections of the document are referred to in any context, the writer must give

credit to the author from which he is quoting.

More stories, essays and poems may be found on the website:www.youngwriters.webnode.com

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Disappearance By Rojay Simpson

It was a typical Tuesday morning in November. I was getting ready for school

and when I was about to leave my father stood beside me with his hand on my

shoulder and he said something he had never said to me before: I love you.

I looked at him and saw nothing; his eyes were as empty as space itself. I left

for school with that image of him in my mind.

I returned from school and did my normal routine: watched TV, ate dinner

and went out to play cricket with my friends in the community playfield. Shadows

began to fade and I stopped playing cricket and began to make my way home.When I got home, my mother was on the phone.

I remember looking at her seeing darkened, heavy eyes. At the time I had no

idea that my father was gone for the entire day and told no one where he was

going. She hung up the phone and I asked her what was wrong. She told me my

father had gone out for the day but no one seemed to know where he was. No one

had heard from him.

I said he must be at some friends house. I went to have a bath, annoyed that

he was making my mom worry.

"He always does this," I said to myself

It was now 9:40 p.m. and there was still no sign of him. She called everyone

she could think of but no one had an answer. Time went by, and it felt like that the

house itself was in darkness even though the lights were on.

Sorrow trickled down my mothers cheeks in the form of large tears. I looked

at her for a moment. I froze for a while. Then, I went over to her and held her

assuring her that he would be home soon. She got out of the couch and went to her

room closing the door behind her. Seeing her like that crippled me. A thousand pins

stood in the center of my heart. Tears halted in my eyes unable to move refused to

fall. I went to my room and went to sleep.

The next day, he did not come home either. There was no trace of him.

I got ready for school that day. I had a Math test.

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My mother was outside with my aunt and cousin I couldnt hear what they

were saying. They looked pale as death. I walked out silently. My footsteps seemed

to speak words left me. I went to school and packed the events that had occurred in

the well of my mind and closed it with prison bars; no one knew what washappening.

During the time I was at school, community member formed a search party.

Posters were put up; people walked around with pictures but still they didnt find

him. It was as if he had become a ghost. Night came and the search came to a

pause.

Later that night my aunt received a call - my father was seen by the sea

shore of Alligator Pound. She called family member to search for him by the sea. My

cousin stayed with my mother and me for they did not want us to see the possibilityof a body appearing on the sea shore. The search went through the night and in the

morning an event occurred that will change me forever. They found a shoe by the

shore - a single foot of a Clarke's shoe - my father's.

Mobilized, the search party walked along the shore. Some went out on the

sea in boats. A few moments later, a man was found lying by the shore. When they

went closer, there, lay the lifeless, partially defaced body of my father.

I was at home with my mother when we heard the news. I remember as my

mother broke out in tears. I went to hug her and in that moment, time seemed to

arrive at a standstill. All the events leading to that moment replayed in my mind,

right back to that day when he stood beside me and told me he loved me. What I

had seen in his eyes wasn't emptiness - it was defeat. Deep in his eyes was the

message - "Goodbye".

Lonely Walk Home by Jonylle Smith

The freezing night wind blew as I walked down the lonely street. The high-

pitched whistles of the inconspicuous crickets were aggravating. I whispered a

curse word under my breath as I walked briskly along. I could hear heavy breathing

and I tried to decipher whether it was mine or a strangers.

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I shivered in the cold night as I looked around suspicious of surroundings.

There was a crackle, then, a snap. I turned around to see if I was not alone but as I

did that all returned silent. My anticipation was at a high as I tried to regain my

calm. I began whispering a prayer under my breath as my body began to shakeuncontrollably.

Earlier, I had gone to a School Based Assessment (SBA) seminar at my

school. I had left my home at about 4:30 p.m. I did not have a good feeling but I

dismissed my premonition and still went.

My teacher greeted me with the same familiar smile and wave, as she always

did, but still the sick feeling lingered.

The speaker was Mr. Antible and he was speaking on How to write an SBA:

Fundamentals and Irrelevance.The seminar lasted an extremely long time and soon I nodded off. I was

awakened by the sound of my friends voice and the locking up of the burglar bars.

As I was packing my things I asked if she could give me a ride home but as I turned

around to hear her response, she was nowhere to be found. At that moment I

staunchly regretted telling my parents, who were miles away from Mandeville in

Kingston that I would find my way home.

Now as I walked the lonely trail, it seemed like something followed me in the

night.

The teachers words of instruction wafted through my mind.

Never wait until the last minute my thoughts were cut as I heard the

ruffling of the bushes nearby. A cry escaped my lips as I covered my own mouth.

Dear God, I whispered before hearing the too familiar crackle. The trees

seemed to stand still in the night air as if expecting some dramatic event.

Pop the bushes sounded; this was becoming too suspenseful. My brisk

walk quickened to a run as I turned the corner. I was nearing home. I began to

number my leaps and then I heard other movement. It sounded like rapidly moving

legs and then, it quickly changed into more than a pair of legs.

Now I became panicked. My legs began to move more quickly. Then I could

see my house. I went as fast as my legs could take me; then, I heard a familiar

gallop and I moved even quicker.

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As I reached my gate, I dropped my bags and jumped over the gate. When I

looked around there was my dog, Worey, leaping over the gate and right into my

chest.

I sighed with relief and went inside.

Trip Gone Wrong by Deanna Corrodus

It was like any other car rally hosted by the Montego Bay Motoring Club,

where everyone looked like a child in a candy store. The sun was directly upon us

through clear Trelawny skies and the chilling sea breeze gently caressed our skin.

The days events were completed and it was time for everyone to go down to the

beach. I felt so proud of my father to be leading the event that my smile was

literally from ear to ear.

My stepmother, brother, cousin and I were all travelling together in our

Toyota Run-x as the day was to be a family outing. The final stage of the race was

completed and all spectators were to return to the lunch spot. As we drove back

down, I contemplated on what I would say to my Dad, and everyone in the car was

enjoying himself or herself as my cousin was vacating from Canada and there

seemed plenty to talk about.

Then overwhelming fear and utter shock fused itself with each person in the

car as everyones body was suddenly flung from side to side as the car swayed on

either side of the road.

I had thought, There are no two ways about it. We are definitely going to

crash!

It was impossible to figure out how we managed to lose control of the car and

be dashing to-and-fro down either side of the road as if the car had banana peels for

wheels. My eyes had shut themselves tight and my mind embraced the rush of

panic as we sped left over a precipice and tumbled down the side of the hill.

It was like being inside a dryer as I felt my body thrown about like a rag doll

within the restraints of my seatbelt. The breaking of glass, metal and trees was all

that was heard outside of the numbing fear that consumed my every being. Then

suddenly the car had landed with a forceful thud, knocking what little air left in

my lungs out and all, for the briefest moment, had gone quiet.

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My eyes opened and were greeted by shattered glass, musty air, the floor of

earth and streams of light peering through the now caved in roof. My lungs had

tried to remember how to inhale as my stepmother asked if everyone was safe, and

then we all pursued crawling out a side window.After climbing out of what once was our car, and staggering up through the

trees towards the road, I looked on everyone for an evaluation of their safety, only

to realize that I was the most injured. Glass cut into my arms, legs and feet causing

blood to paint most of my entire body, but luckily there was no extreme damage

done.

It suddenly hit me then that my life along with my familys was spared, that

another chance was given to us, and things had to be different. It was at that

moment my life had changed and no longer did I take anything for granted.

Sibling Rivalry by Deno Murphey

How did it end up like this? That was the main question running through my

mind when I came to my senses, but at that time, I was holding a knife in my hand

and I had no intention of letting it go.

It was the first week in my summer holiday and I was just getting used to the

idea of lying in bed until ten in the mornings, but that morning wasnt going to be

one of them as I was awakened by the strange vibration of my bed. It took a couple

of seconds for me to realize that the entire room was vibrating to a single beat like

it was a band. Being as curious as Sir Einstein, I got out of bed and went to seek out

the source of the strange sounds and vibrations.

It didnt take long since I had a good place to start, my brothers room. There

he was, rocking to the heavy baseline of a song that was probably made during the

time of the dinosaurs.

Would you mind? I asked him, Im trying to get some sleep. Have a

conscience.

Gwaan back a bed, kid, he replied. "It's not all that loud.

I managed to prevent a nuclear reaction right there and then. With clenched

fists, I went back to my room and patiently waited for him to leave the room.

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As soon as he left, I went to his room and around his computer and got to

work. Ive always wanted to crash a computer but Ive never gotten a chance or a

reason to do so until now.

He returned later that day, only to discover that his computer couldnt evenstart up much less copy the DVDs he had brought home. Little did he know that not

only was his machine a total mess but I had also formatted all his external storage

devices.

His very loud string of expletives was my signal to get out of the house, but I

wasnt fast enough. The next thing I knew I was defending myself from a barrage of

punches that showered down on me faster than I could I could count.

BAM! BAM! BAM!

I took about three of his punches, one to my face and the others to my body.He took a few steps back, giving me just enough time to get some of the blood out

of my mouth. Ive never liked the sight of my own blood, especially when I wasnt

the one that caused it.

Im not sure what happened next but there I was with a fairly long knife and a

very messy room. My bed had what looked like stab wounds in it, my door had a

few new holes and his shirt had a long cut down the front. I could see some level of

fear in his eyes but for some reason he wasnt trying to run.

Deno! Dane! someone shouted from outside. I need the phone with the

international call plan. It was our aunt. We looked at each other.

She came into the house, unaware of what was happening. When she saw us

she quickly grabbed the knife and called our mother. Our mother was as furious as

an angry lioness when she heard what was taking place.

Ever since that day, I have been working very hard to keep my anger in check

because I never know when I might hurt someone close to me.

Fainting Spell By Justine Gooden

As the bus departed, I rested my head on my pillow and I thought about

Easter camp; we had fun, learned more about Christ and visited a prominent

bauxite company.

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The only thing I found rather unpleasant was the fact that my parents did not

call. Despite that, I had received calls from my sisters whom I was excited about

sharing my experience with.

After about two hours of driving, my eyes had become weary, red andwatery; before I knew it, I was awakened by a phone call.

Daddy inna hospital! Him faint a work! she shouted and the call ended.

I hastily checked the caller ID to make sure it was not a prank call and

realized that it was actually one of my sisters. I tried calling back but there was no

signal.

My heart pounded against my ribcage; my palms were sweaty and then, the

tears came. I cried as if I felt pain all over; because of this, the campers who had

been singing lustily, stopped and looked on. Some attempted to investigate theproblem or to extend comfort, but it was no use. I buried my head in my pillow as I

cried nonstop even though I had no facts. The phone began to vibrate.

Yes... Yes, I sobbed, stuttering a little Wha' yuh seh happen to daddy?

He fainted at work and is presently in the hospital, she replied. I dont

know what happened, but grandma called and told me he was unconscious and

was unable to breath.

She continued. However, Ill call you as soon as possible, and Justine, stop

the crying everything will be okay.

Okay, I said, trying to convince her. After the call ended I began to cry again.

I felt pain as I pensively reflected on what my sister had said.

I had never known my father to be sick and so this came as a shock. He was

a strong figure in my life and I felt like I was about to lose him. He was an epitome

of what a father should be. I continued to cry but prayed that everything will be fine

because losing my father, now, at this age would cause my life -to go awry.

At this time, My cousin, Taiena, who covered me with love and support,

hugged me in silence for she knew I did not want to speak, not at this moment.

It had been the longest thirty minutes when the phone rang; it was my sister

again.

Please Taiena, I pleaded. Answer the phone and talk to her.

She agreed and they began to converse.

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She asked a few questions and then she began to smile. Hes okay, Justine,

she said. When the call ended, she explained everything. The reason why he was

in the hospital was because he was dehydrated; however, everything will be fine.

It was the best news Ive heard in a long while. That day made me realize justhow fleeting life can be.

The PE Class That Changed My Life- by Marlon Blake

My days at high school are usually full of excitement, jokes and fights or

some type of drama. But this particular day what happened to me was an injury

that hampered my sports life and also exacerbated my limp.

In the mornings at my house, you could hear birds singing or the breeze

blowing through the leaves of the trees but this morning all I could hear was theconstant blaring out of my name.

Marlon! Marlon, get up and get ready for school or else youre going to be

late! my mother shouted as she woke me that morning.

Like a turtle in a race against time I got out of bed and prepared myself for

school and left. On my way to school, I realized that it was Tuesday and on

Tuesdays was Physical Education class. To be a part of the class, students had to

have a change of clothes which I had forgotten, so quickly I turned back, grabbed a

change of clothes and I made it back just before they closed the gate.

Physical Education (PE) class is immediately after History, so everyone had to

be changed then make their way down to the playfield. Since it was the Track and

Field season, the focus of P.E. class was Long Jump, so everyone had to participate

whether he or she wanted to. I had no intention of taking part, so I found

somewhere to rest my bottom and did just that.

One by one everyone went in and out of the sand pit and then gathered at

the side to look at the next person to jump. After a while my teacher Mr. Daley

realized that I was having no part of the class and instructed me to go and jump.

What was that Springy?" he said, after my half-hearted attempt while

referring to the name students gave me because of my limp. "Go back and do it the

way you were taught.

So, I went back to the start line, looked up at the pit and then took off.

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The place was as quiet as a court room where the verdict was about to be

delivered. I hit the board and flew through the air and bam! Into the pit I went,

crashing. Without breaking stride, with the same speed that I went in with, I ran out

and took a seat.While I was seated, I felt that my knee was hurting. It had slipped out and

had started to swell. However, I didnt make it known that something had happened

as I felt they would make a big deal of it so I sat until class was over; then, as

everyone left the field, I left as well but because of my already awkward style of

walking, no one was aware of the extra limp in my walk.

For the rest of the day, I stayed off my feet as it got more and more painful to

walk on. When I reached home, I told my mother what happened and she got a

letter from my doctor stating that I should not partake in the schools PhysicalEducation classes from there on.

From that day until now my knee slips out of place and causes me pain which

deters me from enjoying a healthy sports life.

Student Loan Stress - by Tamara Chance

Applying for a loan from the Students Loan Bureau can be a migraine but

nothing can prepare anyone for the prolonged application process.

Standing in front of the sky high building, my heart skipped beats. My fingers

turned to water as I pushed the button marked 5 on the elevator. The gentleman

next to me paced back and forth, turning my stomach into glossy slime.

As I stepped out of the elevator into the hallway, nerve wrecking electricity

ate away at my bones. Each step seemed like a flight of stairs as I walked towards

the door and retrieved a ticket. Silently praying, I stepped through the crowd and

inside the wintery office.

Glancing at the ticket in my hand, relief washed my face when I realized that I was

number 24; I sat on the hard surface of the office chair waiting to be called among

the swarms of people. Half hour later one of the SLB officers announced my

number.

Seconds later, I was rummaging in my purse for the TRN card and the envelope with

the money. How could I have left the most important document and the money to

pay the insurance for the loan? I said to myself with my face in my hands.

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After deliberating for about half hour, I decided to travel several miles back to

Manchester for the TRN card and the insurance fee. Arriving back at the house

ninety minutes later, my mother met at the gate. I could have cried when I saw her

with the $14,000 safely wrapped away in an envelope.What were you going to pay them with? she asked.

Im sorry mom, I said with my face turned downwards.

She placed the envelope in my hand and directed me to my room. My only problem

now was to find the TRN card. I ran through every corner of my room. Then I

decided to take another look in my purse. There I found the TRN card safely

wrapped away in bosom of one of the pockets. The corners of my mouth cringed

with laughter and pain from the tears perspiring through my eyes. While checking if

everything I needed was in my purse, I ran out of the house. Arriving back at officewith just ten minutes to spare, I was stopped by the security guard.

The office is closing, he spoke in a firm voice.

I know that, sir, but I was here this morning and I had to leave. So I need to go

inside, I pleaded.

Im sorry but the office is closing. Please move away from the door, he said as he

closed the door.

As he turned away, I made faces at him but paused when one of the loan officers

called to him. My heart exploded when the door opened and I was allowed to go

inside.

Flipping through the pages of my student loan approval document, I reflected on

the struggles of the day and how stressful the simplest of things can sometimes

become.

My Tragic Mistake - by Norda Williams

June 10, 1994 was one of the brightest days Ive seen in a very long time. So,

I decided that I could not allow the day to conclude without going to the netball

court to shoot a few hoops with my friends.

Before leaving, I went into the laundry room, but did not realize that my sister

had followed me and that her curiosity had gotten the best of her. Suddenly I heard

a terrible coughing behind me; I turned to see my baby sister with a cup lifted to

her face, and a strong aroma of kerosene oil was coming from it.

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I screamed for my mother who came running immediately to see what had

gotten me so fearful that I was making so much noise in the house. Realizing what

had happened, she too started screaming.

Give her some sweet, sweet sugar and water!" my mother exclaimed.By now my sister was intoxicated from the chemical, that she was in no mood

to drink anything. I grabbed her and with lightning speed, I dashed with her to the

shower immediately washing her from head to toe so that I would not waste

anymore time, but my greatest concern was getting the chemical off her skin, as

her entire clothes was now soaked with it.

My mother, who was now trembling, helped me to get her dressed, and in

less than two minutes, we were in the car and were on our way to the hospital. My

sister who was now listless, was groaning so hard that I started to cry. I had toshake her, and kept on shaking her for a few minutes for her to wake up; I was

praying and shaking.

My mother was only murmuring, Shes going to be okay; shes going to be

okay.

Calling my sister by name had no effect on her as she was finding it even

more difficult to breathe which caused us to drive even faster. My sister had to be

rushed to the emergency room where she was given a mixture of charcoal to draw

the kerosene oil from her body. She was screaming with all her might because she

did not want the nurses to touch her. So I had to hold on to her tight for her not to

fall from my hands.

In less than fifteen minutes, she had vomited up the kerosene oil and was so

exhausted that she fell asleep on my shoulder. When she woke up, I washed her off;

then, the doctor took her to the examination room, as he wanted to make sure that

she was okay.

A smell of charcoal and kerosene oil was coming from her nostrils whenever

she exhaled but the doctor instructed me to take her home and to pay special

attention to her as she was doing much better than before. He also said that if she

got worse, I should take her back to see her.

When we got home, I took my sister everywhere I went, in case something

happened; I would be there to protect her. The next day, she ate everything she

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saw, including: her dinner, snacks, and fruits. It was as if she had just being

released from prison. I was so happy she was her old self again.

Facing My Fears- by Latasha Allen

I am afraid of heights. I try not climb trees or even look down when Im on a

tall building or distance away from the ground. Just the feeling of falling makes me

dizzy and nauseous, as I sweat like a pig and shiver like a wet chicken. I met my

fear again one day on a family vacation.

Summer was about to end and I did not have any fun. All I had to do was to

make up for lost times, since back to school was just a block away. My family and Idecided to visit one of Jamaicas most attractive tourist resorts, Cool Runnings

Water Park.

As we entered the park, we could hear the high-pitched, squeaky voices of

children and the gushing and splashing of water. The trace of a variety of food

merged in the air, as real Jamaican music calms the fearful spirits.

I soon changed into my green, two piece swim wear. Suddenly, I heard a

voice shouting, Tasha, come up here!

It was my friend Shaq, standing at about thirty feet away from the ground, on

one of the slides.

I said to myself if my friend Shaq, who is younger than me, can stand at the

top of a narrow, thirty feet slide, then I am capable of doing so too. I ran quickly

towards the steps that lead to the slide. As I approached, my heart began to race;

my hands started to sweat and my legs shook uncontrollably. Finally, I reached the

top and I felt worried, nervous and unsettled. There was no turning back and the

only way to go back down was by going down the slide. So by reducing my fear and

increasing excitement, I gripped myself together and went for it.

Within a second, it was all over, I was submerged under the water and my

mind and body shut down. I could not move, as my nostrils and ears absorbed all

the water. Suddenly, I heard a voice shouting my name. It sounded familiar but I

couldnt tell who it was. Then I felt a hand around my waist as my body moved

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upward. I could hear that same sound of excitement I heard when I entered the

park.

The voice commanded me to open my eyes. As I opened my eyes I realized

that I was still alive and it was just a trick of the mind. I then placed myself in arelaxing position as I couldnt wait to try the slide again.

Then after many times down the slide, I decided to try a more challenging

one since everyone was gravitating to it.

It was a red, steep, long slide that was about twice the height of the previous

one and much faster than any other. All fear was gone and so I ran quickly up the

long, narrow steps and join the long line of people waiting to go on the slide. As the

line got shorter, I felt the same trepidation twisting my insides. It was clearly not

excitement but raw fear.Nevertheless, I proceeded down the slide. I could feel a thin string holding my

heart in place as I listened to the loud squeaky sound flowing from my mouth. Upon

reaching in the pool, I heard all my family members and friends shouting my name.

They began to laugh as I tried to recover from that journey I took down the slide.

I then realized that if I had the heart to go on the top of a slide that was about

thirty feet from the ground, I wasnt afraid of heights.

I had just been traumatized by what my mind had perceived. I finally

conquered my fear!

Cane piece Adventure by Kaydian Landell

Our stomach grumbled when we woke up that morning. There was nothing in

the old zinc kitchen for mommy to make breakfast. She scanned the three

breadfruit trees in front of the yard for saving grace, but none was visible. Her only

alternative was to improvise some of the sweet juicy stalks that the sugar company

cultivates on their farm, to calm our rolling stomach.

Mommy asked my two brothers to creep under the closely fenced barb wire,

to get some sugarcane. They murmured and dragged themselves slowly, and

squeezed under the wire fence into the field; parting the thick cane bands,

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sounded like a herd of cows trespassing. Our legs wobbled and we bit our nails, as

we stood back watching keenly, to alert them of any approaching danger.

Mommy yelled, Tek time an mine unuh mek di ranger dem hear an cum

ketch unuh. Just as the last word uttered out of her mouth, a field patrol jeep came

blazing through the contours of the field. It was so sudden, we couldnt alert my

brothers. The rangers jumped out, pointing their long shiny weapons that they use

to slaughter trespassing animals. I looked at mommy, gasping for breath and

holding her tummy.

Mommy bawled out to the rangers, A mi bwoy dem in deh! A nuh stray

animals! Do, nuh fyah no shot!

One of the rangers yelled, Yuh tek wi fi fool? A unuh animal dem indeh?.

I cried out, Truly, a mi bredda dem in deh.

They proceeded without firing any shots and parted the cane bands angrily

still in search of stray animals. Surprisingly, they bounded upon my brothers

shivering in each others arms, begging for Gods help. The rangers shoved them

out of the field into the jeep.

The rangers yelled to us, Dem come jus like some tiefing goat; Come fi dem

a di factory poun.

My brothers cried out to mommy for help! Mommy begged them for a

chance, but they sped away.

Fear and confusion quickly dissolved our hunger, as we trotted down the

jeep, which quickly disappeared from our sight. The 27th Psalm became mommys

only utterance, as she waddled down the bushy tack. Tears bathed our faces, as we

prayed for God to work a miracle, since mommy had no money to pay for their

release.

In the wink of an eye, our prayers were answered, the jeep blazed down the

track and stopped at our feet. It was too impossible to be true; my brothers were

back! The knitted brows and puffy faces of the rangers were erased by a dim,

droopy one.

We didnt know your family was so poor, The rangers said. They

apologized for the additional sorrow they caused that morning and granted us free

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passage to get some of the sugarcane. They drove us home slowly in their jeep,

while mommy explained how difficult it is to be a father and a mother to her

children; all she do for survival is a domestic helper. However, we were warned to

avoid trespassing in spite of our situation. This experience taught us to be obedient and adhere to rules and

regulations of any organization, in spite of the situation we are faced with.

My G-SAT Results by Coneisha Linton

I woke up very early that morning. I skipped breakfast; I couldnt eat. My

stomach had butterflies fluttering all around. This was the biggest day of my life

when G-SAT result came out in May, 2003. My heart pumped. My palms were slickwith sweat.

While approaching the schools gate, the smile drained from my face. I stood

on the corridor about five minutes before I went inside the classroom taking deep

breaths. The teacher, Mrs. Gayle, was winding her old limbs up the stairs with a

smile on her face with her register, textbook and a paper folder in her right hand.

She opened the classroom door and allowed us to enter the room. She placed the

paper folder, register and textbook that was in her hand on the table.

She then went to the front of the class greeted us by saying Good afternoon

class. How are you today?"

Mrs. Gayle then kept devotion which was not as vibrant as it used to be as

everyone was tense that day. We then sat eagerly anticipating our G-SAT results.

The class was very quiet; if a leaf fell it could be heard. Every move the

teacher made my eyes followed her; I could not stay still in my seat, all I wanted to

know was if I had been placed in the school of my first choice. Mrs. Gayle took her

register and the paper folder from her desk and began to mark the register. A few

seconds after, she opened the paper folder and started calling the names of the

students in a descending order along with the results. Mrs. Gayle made each

student in the cower in fear because she was calling the result out loud, in front of

the entire class. Therefore, everyone would hear the results of their friends or even

their enemies.

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On hearing the name Shernette Malcolm, my heart began racing rapidly

because I knew the next name would be mine. I crossed my legs twisted my fingers

and bowed my head forward hoping to hear the school of my choice.

Mrs. Gayle then called my name, paused, looked at me and frowned. Withthat look, tears ran from my eyes and curved under my neck.

Mrs. Gayle then continued by saying Coneisha Linton, Mannings School.

This was the school every student wanted to attend and of course, it was my first

choice. On hearing my result, instantly, I sprang from my seat and hit my head in an

overhead fan; however that hit didnt have much impact because I was so

overwhelmed with joy.

Ten minutes afterwards, the teacher gave the last result and allowed us to

leave the classroom. Feeling very proud of myself I went and hugged my teacher;she then told me that I got a scholarship from the Westmoreland Cooperative Credit

Union Bank. I smiled, screamed and jumped all over the place. I was so happy. With

no further hesitation, I ran to the call room and telephoned my mother about my

accomplishments.

In the end, I felt very proud of myself and that day gave me the drive to

continue working hard in achieving my goals and making my parents proud.

My Move To Trinidad by Charis-Ann Ricketts

Youre going to Trinidad, my father said in words of ice.

They were as cold as the solid white walls of the room in which we sat and

sounded as firm as the stern crevices below his cheeks. The black plastic chair did

not embrace me. I looked to mommy but found no comfort in her eyes. No solace

was in the cloud of disappointment that hovered behind them. Gray did not suit her.

Still in my Belair uniform, I thought about what this meant.

School in Trinidad?, my mind tried to process it.

I would trade my khaki skirt and green tie for the uniform of my older sister: a

purple skirt brighter than a ripe plum and a shirt baggy enough to make an obese

person seem slim.

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Although I was surprised that my parents wanted me to leave, I knew it

wasnt a sudden decision. It had been lurking, feeding and growing in the parents

mind for some time. I knew they wanted me to leave some of the negative

influences in JamaicaBut, a different country? Seriously? I thought.

I only had one term of second form left. I could only think of how much I

would miss my best friend and how lonely I would be. In Trinidad, my father and I

scrambled to get school books and other supplies and to settle me in a family home

that now housed eight people.

Waking up one mornings on my own and meeting an often crowded

bathroom did nothing to make me feel at home. I met each breakfast apathetically

as I very soon was able to predict the main component. BREAD . I missed thevariety of my Jamaican breakfast like ackee and saltfish and boiled bananas and the

care in which it was prepared. Living with strangers, seeing originally unfathomable

hours of the morning, having a small breakfast while on the way to school and

traveling in taxis were all new to me, yet I did that each morning on the way to my

new school. Each day, as I walked up the high concrete steps that led to my class, I

held on to the green metal railing which lined them as well as to the realization that

I was in Trinidad.

Why cant I just go home? I asked myself daily.

I want to. I kept saying.

My perplexed eyebrows often gave me away as the unfamiliar high-pitched

words and strange lingo surrounded me and left feelings of doubt to shroud me. I

wondered if I would ever understand anything or if I would ever fit in. I began to

worry about getting all the notes in class that I needed.

Homesickness hit me worse than a hunger pang as memories of home left

me with misery. At lunch times I often felt out of it, but without schoolwork to

occupy me all the time, I had no choice but to socialize.

Then one day, I found myself laughing and I realized that this felt like home

too. Along with my parents visiting often and my joining of clubs, the feeling of

home grew. The doubts I harvested vanished over time , and I eventually became

comfortable with being away from home and my new level of independence. The

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family I lived with also turned out to be a great one; however, I never got used to

the roti and the "channa" which a really spice bean dish.

Looking back, I realized that my parents knew what they were doing. They

were investing in my character development and for whom God wanted me to be.

My Greatest Lesson by Alecia Fray

I stared out the window as the rain beat against my window pane. The weather

was an exact replica of what I was feeling inside. Every flash of lightning raised my

anticipation of what was to come.

Earlier that day, I had run to the garage to get my bike to join my friends on the

street when I heard a voice behind me, "Alecia, can I come with you today?

I turned around only to find my little five-year-old sister Abigail. She wasstanding beside her bike with her helmet on. I had promised to bring her with me

on several occasions, but I hated having to stop what I was doing just to make sure

she was alright. I couldnt deal with that today. I finally got permission to ride up to

the river and I was not going to let her spoil it, so I said no and hopped on my bike

and rode off.

On my way to my friends I realized I wasnt wearing my helmet. I turned my bike

around and rode home as fast as I could. I jumped off my bike and raced towards

the door when I noticed my little sister sitting on the steps crying. I hated to see

my baby sister cry and knowing that I was the cause for it made it even worse.

Walking over to her I said, Why are you crying? Arent you supposed to be glad

that Im bringing you with me?

She hopped to her feet, stared at me with her big, shiny eyes and then jumped

on her bike and said, Ready when you are.

I went in the house got my helmet, and we rode side by side to catch up with my

friends. By the time I got there, all my friends were already in the river. I didnt

want to stay on the riverside with my sister, but I also didnt want to leave her

alone. I decided not to let her ruin my fun. I told her to stay on the side and make

sure no one stole our bikes. She said okay in a faint voice, held down her head and

sat on a rock. As soon as she sat down, I sprang off and joined my friends in the

water.

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We were in the water having fun; this lasted for hours, when out of nowhere we

heard a scream. My heart sank as I came to the realization that Abigail was no

longer on the riverbank. I ran out of the water as soon as I could. Looked

everywhere, but she was not in sight. I tried to get my thoughts together as Istared blankly in the water, when I heard another scream. This time the scream

came from nearby bushes. I ran over as fast as I could, only to find my sister lying

there bleeding, with my bike tightly griped in both hands. I loosened her grip on the

bike, picked her up and ran home with her as fast as I could.

The ambulance came and we helped to get in the back, but as we approached

the vehicle she said to me I did what you said. He never got your bike

My face became extremely hot and tears streamed down my cheek. As the

ambulance sped down the road lightning started to flash and thunder started toroll.

My parents went to the hospital with my sister so I was home alone staring at

the window hoping that she would be alright. I marveled at how my sister fended off

those rough boys from the community just to save my bike.

Later in the evening when she came home, I rushed out front to meet her. She

wore a bandage but a small smile. I knew from then on I would not take her for

granted again.

Video Shoot by Kevon Clayton

My friend and my girlfriend had come to stay over at my house in New Hall

from the day before for me to help them shoot a music video for my friend,

Satnarenes project. We recorded the sound track for the video the night before and

decided that we would shoot the various scenes for the video the following day.

We woke up to see a bright Wednesday morning. The wind gently caressed

our bodies as it eased by and the tree limbs bowed gracefully in acknowledgement

to the winds presence. A perfect day for shooting a video, we thought.

The video was going to be about a little boy who had a rough life. We also

had some other friends come over to play different roles in the video; some would

sing while others would be extras in the scenes.

Like a film director, I set the camera to roll and began shooting the different

scenes. The first scene I shot was where Sean tied out goats; the second was where

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Sean chopped cane to sell; the third was Sean watching his neighbors play with

their daughter.

After shooting those scenes, we decided to go down the road to shoot some

scenes of Sean hanging out at a local shop. I decided to ride my bicycle whileSatnarene, Jozan and Sean would walk.

On the way, while riding in front of them, I being a stunt rider, decided to

show them a stunt or two. Like a silly mongoose, I decided to show them one of my

most challenging stunts which I had been practicing. This stunt required me to get

up, spin around and continue riding with my back turned in the direction I was

going. The most dangerous part of this stunt was that I would be doing all this down

a fairly steep hill. When I came to the brow of the hill I got up, struggled to keep my

balance while I spun around as quickly as possible, regained my grasp on thehandle bar and regained full control. By this time I was speeding down the hill with

my back toward the direction I was going and glancing over my shoulder so I

wouldnt run off the road. Just in the nick of time, I remembered a pothole which I

thought which at the moment I thought would have definitely sealed my fate. I

managed to maneuver around the pothole.

Ahh, a sigh of relief, I was safe, or so I thought. In an effort to slow down I

began squeezing both the back and front brake, and this is when disaster struck.

Before I knew what was happening, my eyes opened as wide as they could

and my heart raced as I found myself skating and rolling uncontrollably from my

shoulder, to back, to stomach, to hands and knees. I had squeezed the front brake

too hard and thus the front wheel locked up. As quickly as Usain Bolt, Satnarene,

Jozan and Sean rushed to help me up. They gently helped me up and took me home

where Jozan began to dress my wounds.

Jah know star! is all Sean could say when he saw the cuts and bruises I had

received. My body shivered due to the immense pain I was feeling, and the

antiseptic wasnt making it less painful as my girlfriend cleaned the cuts and bruises

on my arms, legs, hip, and shoulders caused by the prolonged friction between my

body and the asphalt. Neither I nor my friends had thought such a beautiful day

would have turned out so disastrous.

After this experience, I learnt that it is never a good idea to do a stunt like

this while going down a hill.

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When Hell Breaks Loose by Kimone DaleyI used to think crime and violence would in no way affect me although I lived

in an area sandwiched between two war riddled communities that had rampant

outburst of violence at any given time. However, I soon came to realize how close I

was to death!

It was a gloomy and pitch black night that events in my community

drastically changed. I had spent another boring day at home doing nothing and the

atmosphere in my community was calm and somber as there was no one in sight on

the road; it seemed as if people felt the mood in the atmosphere and decided tostay indoors.

My mother and sister were at home with me and we had gathered in the

crammed living room that looked like a mini-storm had blown through it. My mother

was frying dumplings and saltfish in the kitchen for dinner as she had decided not

cook until late in the evening and so my sister and I decided to watch a movie in my

room until my mother had finished dinner. We chose the popular movie Scarface.

We sat down turned on the television, put the movie in the DVD and started to

watch it.

My mother signaled to us that she had finished preparing dinner so I asked

her if she could bring our dinner to us in my room; my mother did not normally

allow us to eat in bed but on this particular night she did not mind. She brought us

our dinner and sat on my bed and started to watch the movie with us.

The movie had just come to the climax of the story when all of a sudden we

heard a loud explosion as if a bomb was dropped in the middle of the community;

my sister and I jumped off the bed like Asafa Powell at the beginning of a race. We

ended up in a bundle on the floor as my mother had dove on the floor at the same

time trying to squeeze her voluptuous body under my small bed. My heart almost

jumped out of my body and started to beat like drums in a parade; my sisters

looked like as if she had a heart failure, her eyes bulging out of her head. We forced

ourselves under my bed.

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As we began to realize what was happening, more shots were fired, the

sound making my body break out in convulsions and I could not control myself. I felt

as if I was in World War II while shots continued nonstop throughout the night and

my world became a maze of flying bullets; I could not think and tears began to flow.I had become part of a horror movie, and there was no way out of as gunshots flew

past my window.

I do not know what happened to me next as I awoke to noise and confusion in

my house and on the road; I later found out that rival gangs were once again having

a confrontation and it had spread into my community.

I felt very lucky to be alive as stray bullets could have easily killed me, my

mother and my sister like they did many others in my community.

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Documents

Short Story Anthology